I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want.

I am not a credit to my gender. I admit this freely.
I don't like to shop, wear makeup or perfume, dress up in heels or fine clothes. I don't wear jewelry save for a necklace and my wedding ring. Give me a pick up truck or Jeep, I'm a happy girl.
I don't stand on ceremony, I'm not for show.
I know, I know. I suffered a concussion, right? Well no, but I know I'm.. different.

I'll tell ya what I want, what I really really want.

I want a smaller house.
I don't want the space I have or lush carpet that covers my upstairs. Three bathrooms are a pain in the ass to clean. The wood floors are the colour of rich coffee but I don't like them. My walk in closet is not full of clothes but rather starting to look like a catch-all. I have no use for the two other bedrooms I have and I'd rather have a huge country kitchen than a dining room. 


I want a barn house. With a loft. Oh, no loft? Sorry, no go. I need a mostly open concept with a closed off sanctuary bedroom. I want w i d e pine board floors full of knots darkened with age. I want just one bathroom with a half bathroom downstairs. I want to run my hands along the walls,wainscoting breaking up the flat smooth surfaces. I want to see my pot bellied stove in the corner where I can put my feet up on a kitchen chair and feel it's heat, taking refuge in the rocking chair beside it on cold winter days. I want to look out my extra large windows and see the seasons come and go, the wind rustling the long grasses, teasing the leaves on maple trees. I want to see billowing smoke from my neighbour's chimney, too far to walk to, close enough for comfort.


Space. Peace. Solitude. 


Well.. within 15 minutes of town. I am a sociable creature after all, but on my terms. When I want people, I want them within a short commute. I need access to a quaint coffee shop where I can read or surf, the whirl of the grinder in the background, the clinking of spoons mixing that magic elixir. No, not Starbucks, but a little nook run by a person who's seen the world and has settled down to offer it's wonders in my small town.
I want shops where one of a kind merchandise is found, perhaps made by local craftsmen. I want to be able to stroll antique shops, to find that perfect piece that will finish the room. I want to be tempted by the sights and sounds of the farmer's market, where his wife has made delicious pies and fresh cheeses. I want to bring home hand tied bundles of herbs to add to the fragrant pot of soup simmering on my stove, a fresh loaf of bread still cooling.


I want to learn how to throw clay, sharpen my photography skills, maybe learn to carve out a wooden bowl.  I want a mezzanine in hubby's large quanza to secretly paint something when the mood strikes, even if I've no idea how. I want to be surprised if it turns out to be not half bad. 10 years ago I never thought I'd be creative in the least. 


Looking out my workshop window I want to come to realize I've put out roots down, ones I've never allowed myself to take hold.


I want to grab my camera, walk a long some dirt road and capture the wild life grazing on the edge of the woods, ready to take flight if danger comes. I want to photograph crystalized works of art on windows on cold days, to snap a picture story board of a town slowly coming alive. I want to snap young love sitting on the park bench, oblivious to me and everyone else. To portray the beauty of a harvest moon when it's as orange as the pumpkins the farmer's kids are selling. 
These is what inspires me, what feeds my soul.


In a little less than a year and a half I will be turning 50, truth is I fear it so badly some days it all but breaks me and I am powerless to stop it. This is the first time I admit it publicly, in doing so hoping the fear will lessen.
I can't turn back the number but this I can do, I can control what direction I take. This is act 3 of my life, I know how I want the play to go, the scenery to look, the people in it. 


I know what I want. Ha.. what I will have. 
Because you know what? I deserve no less.