Dream Home

The other day I met the man, not of my dreams,
but of my dream home.

The man greatly offended my Isabella-girl when he stood there and seemingly oddly looked up in to space as he actually checked his phone lines. My girl made her suspicions known loud and clear. I did what any good canine guardian might do, I had her sit and apologize to the man and that is how we got to talk. The owner of my dream home is an artist who builds sculptures from recycled materials. He shared with me the background of this most appealing of homes. An Opera singer in her eighties built  this rather small house for herself and her lover. Got to admire those hearty folks able to take on serious undertakings in their advanced age. The lady would sing her heart out behind those windows with those gorgeous views across our City Different. He could have fenced in those acres around his home, but chose to be a good and friendly neighbor to the dog park and confessed to having had no problems with us park visitors ever. It was a delightful exchange I had with the man of my dream home and of course I made it clear that I was standing in line if ever he needed a caretaker. I would love the proximity to our favorite open space with a view that is not to be sneezed at.

Happy Full Moon!
Once again it sneaked upon us.

1 comment:

  1. These pictures are amazing. Seeing the house with your eyes, it is so beautiful. A dream, really. How wonderful that the home belongs to a sculptor. And that you met.