Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

“All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind, wake in the
morning to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous
people, For they dream their dreams with open eyes, And make them come
― D.H. Lawrence

I've written about wanting to move to back to the coast before and I've rattled on about horses until I've bored the entirety of the innerwebs to tears. For years I've daydreamed of a little white house at the end of a dead end road, a property bordered by trees and sitting close enough to the coast to see the water. I had it all planned out in my crazy little head, although I'd never worked out how it was going to happen. I imagined a large yard, fenced for the dogs, enough land for a few horses and I'd work from home where I wouldn't have to deal with office politics or the latest incarnation of the demon Bossholio.

I just can't see myself staying here until I die after Ma's gone from this earth.

I had even accepted that I'd have to stay here, close to family and The Amazon. I'd looked at farms in the areas around the holler but.. after a while it just became so depressing. Everything was either snakey looking or so far up the mountain that if I fell in the yard, no one would find me for days. Most had no cell service or internet and were listed as "homesteaders paradise."

I am in not in any condition to be splitting wood, peeing in a garden shed or being holed up for months, waiting for the spring thaw just to go to the bottom of the mountain to pick up my mail. That might be some folks idea of paradise, but it's not mine.

And so, I'd go back to my dream.

I knew the chances of finding a property with both farm and coast would be near impossible. People have beach houses or they have a farm, no one has both.

I wanted a small community, remote enough for loads of privacy, yet close enough to "town" to have internet access, cable tv and cell phone service. Sometimes, when life gets to be a little more challenging than usual, I go on Google Earth and webstalk the coast of Virginia and North Carolina, looking for a  community that might have a property would make my dreams a reality.

Then I found this:

The virtual tour is awesome, but note that the house has been put back on the market and has considerable wear and tear since this was made.

How will I afford it?

I don't know. By the time I can,  there's no guarantee that it will even be available and I know, as reality goes, the logical chances of my ever having this place are slim and none, but money? It's just money. Amazing things can happen in ways you never thought possible. I'll keep dreaming.