Silly Kid Stuff

I am an only daughter. I have four brothers, but I am the only girl in my family. Being an only daughter/sister isn't quite how they make it out to be on T.V. Brothers don't necessarily care who the heck you're going out with. Who picks on you is your problem, not theirs. Actually, more often than not, it's one (or more) of them doing the picking. I spent a lot of winter days, a lot of rainy days, and... well... just a lot of days figuring out ways to entertain myself. Thinking about that now, I'm sure it has something to do with why I don't need to be entertained or constantly on the move.

One of the ways I used to entertain myself was to take mom's old Better Homes & Gardens (and other) magazines and pour through them, looking at the pictures from the articles and/or ads, dreaming of some day when I would have that sunken tub (unheard of then) and the kitchen as big as the entire first floor of our house -- always so clean one couldn't enter without donning sunglasses. lol I would cut or tear those pictures out of magazines, often for hours on end, and tape or glue them onto notebook paper in this folder I kept. I would then organize the pages by which house they were in. Silly, huh? I'm not sure, now, if I divided them by the summer home, winter home, etc., by location, -- or if they were divided by first (starter) home, second home, etc. After all, I would be so rich I could change a room or a house whenever I wanted, right? ;) Gosh, I wish I still had that notebook.

The other day, I was dropping my oldest off at a golf match at a local country club community. On the main drive, this house caught my eye immediately. I fell totally and permanently in love with this house. Seeing this house and the way it made me feel, instandly made me think of "the notebook." This is my dream house. It occurs to me now that I always collected pictures of the rooms inside a house, but I have never felt passionate about the house, itself, before.

Not to be all "stalkerish" or anything, but I am going to scrap this house so I can capture this childhood memory and maybe, just maybe, pull the page out every now and then -- just like I did with my notebook when I was a child -- and dream. A girl can dream, can't she? Thankfully, there's no price tag on that. :)