Like Father Like Daughter

Do you ever imagine situations in your head that you KNOW cannot happen, but you still keep imagining anyway? Well, I like to do this. And I like to bring Dave into my craziness. We’ll be sitting in the car and Dave’s talking about some weird microphone cable or whatever and I’ll be like, “If you could have a miniature version of any animal, what animal would you choose?”

And then he just kind of looks at me with his eyebrows scrunched together.

I’d totally pick an elephant, by the way. But yesterday I was doing some imagining that was slightly more grownup. Making plans for myself that could actually come true, but probably won’t. You know those kind? The kind of plan where I buy an old farmhouse that has great bones, but needs a lot of love; the kind of plan where I have unlimited vacation time to wander around from Tennessee to Missouri, exploring the woods. I just dream things up all day and I sort of assume they’re never going to happen.

Just recently my parents decided to move out to my grandma’s log cabin. She lives (seriously) in the middle of nowhere. She has a great big barn, an old tool shed, a spring, a pond, fields like you wouldn’t believe, a whole room full of old books. It’s completely a dream world.

When I was little, my dad and I used to wander around the woods for hours. We’d sit on the “thinkin’ rocks” and walk out to the pond. We’d wander through the fields and look for deer or through the woods and look for cushy moss. I’d come back covered in ticks, but filled with wonder. He always had a little notebook of grid paper that he’d draw plans in for his dream house out in those woods. He’d explain the plans to me, “this is a big window overlooking the pond,” and I’d get caught up dreaming with him.

Though I’ll miss the house where I grew up, the house where my brother taught me about “cool music,” the house where I made Christmas cookies with my sisters and colored flowers on the walls, I can’t help but be totally in love with the idea of my parents’ life out on the farm. Though the situations and the specifics aren’t exactly like he planned, I get choked up when I think of my dad walking around those woods again, living out his dream.


4 thoughts on “Like Father Like Daughter

  1. Despite our different preferences for weather, this post is just more proof that we’d be best friends if we didn’t live 11 hours apart. I ask the same sort of silly questions to my boyfriend. And if I could find a job just daydreaming and planning about things that probably will never happen (owning an old farmhouse in the mountains where I write books in my office all day) I’d be a millionaire.
    This cabin sounds awesome! And hopefully you’ll have fun living vicariously through your parents new adventure until one of your own comes along!

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