I want to live in a cabin with a little tree house to escape to and an old vintage caravan as a writing room.
I want a little garden – permanently set up for a tea party.
I want a baby lamb that stays as a baby lamb to skip about to its hearts content.
I want to spend the day taking photos of the ocean and writing.
Free time would be spent making things and taking walks in the wood and at night I would walk along the beach.
I’d drink sparkling rose wine from teacups.
I’d probably have a little wind chime of shells in my hair.
I’d wake up every day thankful and feeling alive.
My walls wouldn’t have wallpaper on them – they would be covered in books.
The furniture would be rustic and the chairs would all be slightly over sized so you feel like a child again when your feet didn’t touch the floor.
I’d tie balloons filled with water and baking soda (a renewable source version of helium) and tie them to the top of the treehouse so I can pretend I am in the movie UP!
I’d walk barefoot as much as possible.
I’d have a tepee in the garden, filled with cushions, a camp fire base outside with marshmallows and sticks at the ready. A blanket would be pinned down on the floor so you could star gaze to your hearts content.
My loved ones would live very near and visit often.
The rest of the world could stay on the doorstep.