I'm not sure why, but I'm being so inspired by greenhouses/conservatories lately. There's something so gothic/Victorian/tranquil about them. I'm dying for one. I'd love a place like that to come to at the end of the day and get my hands wrist deep in soil. I imagine it smelling heavenly--like potting soil, hose water, herbs, chlorophyll and whatever flowers might be blossoming. I'd love to just come home, kick off my shoes, pull some weeds and plant something, then kick back in my warm conservatory with a good book and just breathe in all that richly oxygenated air.
I'd have to wash my hands between dirt and book though. You can't messy up books. YOU JUST CAN'T.
My actual life is going well. I'm falling into a routine, which is good. I felt like a fish trying to swim in a current that was too strong for her for a while there. I'm getting more used to the pace and the way things are now. Which makes me content.
I just wish I had the opportunity take a vacation. I haven't got any time that'd be convenient, though. I also don't exactly have the funds, either.
So I'm going to mentally vacay in my greenhouse. :)
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