I great big sigh of relief:
Our condo sold tonight. Sold. Done. »phew.« Thank you, Lord!
Not-so-Real Estate Dreaming. (A Home for My Eccentric/Very Rich British Self)
Sometimes when I step back and think about us building our house out on the farm I feel a bit like we’re living a dream. (Of course, we’re not living that dream quite yet… oh man do I have a doozy of a realty story for you when we someday hopefully finally actually sell this condo…) It is not lost on me how blessed I am.
But let’s live a different dream for a moment, shall we? I’m a bit of a daydreamer, I admit. And I’ve said before that if I wasn’t doing this whole prairie farmhouse thing I think it would be really cool to have an industrial warehouse loft in a city like Chicago. I’d be a children’s book illustrator, or graphic designer or something. And I’d be very cool. (Have I mentioned this is a dream?)
Well, I’ve discovered another (completely fictitious/nevergonnahappen/but fun to think about) dream. I’d live in London. I’d have to be filthy rich, most likely. And probably a tad bit eccentric, or at least quite quirky (it just goes with the rich in London thing). Not sure what I would do. But that’s part of it. Nobody would know what I would do, or how I got my money, or why I’m so eccentric. And I would live here:
(Photo from jj Locations, via Not My Beautiful Home)
Wow. Wow. Wow. Did your breath catch like mine did? I will no doubt decorate and redecorate this London townhouse a half dozen times while I fall asleep tonight. Everything - those windows (oh, those windows!), the worn wooden floors, the mouldings, the fireplaces…
Even the mint green is working for me (though my very rich eccentric self would probably repaint those walls with the change of every season…)
I’d no doubt spend many rainy English days looking wistfully out of those windows.
And spend many days writing and drawing on a bench on this pretty street:
It’s actually a townhouse featured by a company called jj Locations, which finds venues for filming and photo shoots. And I almost find that sad - it should be a home.
The other rooms are a bit more furnished, and are quite lovely - which is fine, but leaves a little less for the imagination.
Isn’t it just so lovely? *Sigh* If you’ll excuse me, now, I’m off to drink tea and mentally decorate my pretend British home. (sorry, what was that about being eccentric?)
