Today, my good friend said that my next step in life should be to plant a garden. "And you could have a chicken," she added. "In fact, you could have a farm."
And a longstanding dream came flooding back over me: the small house with the big garden and the goat or the cow and the donkey and the farm dog and the barn cats and the berry patch and the pond with weeping willows around it and the Easter lily bank and Christmas tree grove. As we talked I added a lighthouse or silo which would be my office where I would write. "And you need an apple tree or apricot tree," said my friend.
It's been a while since I've let myself really dream. I miss it.