My Dream House

When I was still small and equally handsome as I am now, I used to imagine what it was like to live in a tree house. In this dream house there would be an infinite supply of lays BBQ flavor and I would be oh so invisible to the world. I could imagine myself in that little wooden shelter acting as if I was a spy. In those times, my dream house would morph into a spy's HQ. Yes, thats how awesomely great my childhood dreamhouse was.

Fast-foward about a decade later and my ideal dream house is totally different. Perhaps the course of life, in its difficulty and celebration, have altered it in such a way. My dream house is now a little cosy cottage atop a windy hill set amogst the meadows in norway. My little cottage would rear around 2-3 horses I could gallop on exploring the surrounding coniferous forest. In the morning having just woken up I would go out to the porch and sip a teacup of Earl Grey while watching the scenary. I would watch how the birds fly by and how raindrops formed. Everyday the sun would rise from the far end and stir up a breeze that would untangle my hair.

In the afternoon when it is a little hotter, I could go exploring on my horses and discover the wonderful world God had created. One day it will be a dark cave and the next it will be a waterfall. In fact, this will keep me fit and fab yeah! I should think that all this action will surely work up an appetite.

So when I return back, as does the sun, I would invite a few friends over for roast turkey and wine. We could jam a little on the guitar or play pokercards. Then, when its really late I will be at the front porch again looking up at a blanket of stars and thanking God for this wonderful life I am living. And God, in all his glory and grace, would send a little breeze to make my day.

Chows,
Jethro Low