Someday you'll own a home that's as big as a house

September 2010:

Performance review today. Boss tells me I'm "the best technical writer he's seen". Exaggeration? Probably. I resisted the urge to respond "yeah but in my heart I'm a POET". So my job is probably safe.

And when he tried to nose out my career plans for the future, I similarly resisted the urge to explain my life goal is to be a crazy spinster aunt in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, making quilts, restoring furniture, writing, and playing oldtime music on oldtime instruments by candlelight.

I have a feeling I'm not actually cut out for employment. I guess I'll enjoy it while it lasts, though. And save $$$. 

Today, I signed my name (over and over and over) to the papers that made that cottage in the middle of nowhere my own.  I'm re-employed, and pretty pleased with that for the time being.  I'm not writing, or playing music, as much as I ought to be.  I have a lot of work to do to make the house into a home, into a cozy place to entertain guests, into a productive workspace for myself.  I'm not an auntie, but I'm still (and happily!) a spinster. 

When I showed my mom this picture, and explained the floor plan, she said "That sounds a lot like Lois's house."  Lois lived across the street from the park in Blockton.  She would always have little treats to give me when I stopped by knee-high to a grasshopper.  I probably haven't been inside that house for fifteen years, and I didn't think about it when I saw my house.  I just knew somehow that it was a place I could be at home.  

So many of my role models have been strong single women.  (Elizabeth, Nancy)

Time to get to work!