Home on the range

Well, I’m back, dear readers. No, I did not jump out of my office window yesterday — although yeah, I was damn close.
I was completely weary by the time I made it home with Darling Husband yesterday evening. While we made spinach salad and homemade pizza — delicious, comforting carbs! — we talked about something we have always dreamed about … getting the hell out of the city.
By the time the pizza was in the oven, we were on the real estate sites, drooling over cozy farmhouses with acres. ACRES! For two people who own a 1,200 square foot condo, that is like … like nine million condos stacked end to end, with the roof ripped off.
It wasn’t long before I was seeing visions of white cabinets and warm wood …

… country-style furniture like butcher-block islands …

… and Martha-Stewart-inspired shabby chic shelves with stacks and stacks of white dishes …

Darling Husband? Yeah, he was seeing visions like this …

We aren’t going to make any drastic decisions, but our hearts are definitely leaning towards the country. We’ll be able to afford a bigger place, which means more room for us, for Little Dog, and for the future kiddos. 
Oh, and I might be able to get the pet pig I’ve always wanted! Hee hee …

So what do you think?

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