Someday I’ll have a house down by the beach, where my front yard is nothing but sand and sun and surf. It won’t be one of those huge, granite and cement houses that look like they’d fit in better on the palm-tree-lined streets of Beverly Hills. No, it’ll be something smaller, and cozier—more like a beach cottage than a mansion. And it’ll have huge windows that open up completely so my living room smells like salt from the sea breeze.
My kitchen will be big and open, with an island in the middle, and my bedroom will have a balcony where I can sit and talk the night away with friends or read a book until my eyes get tired. And the whole house will be decorated in blues and greens and whites and light browns, a peaceful blend of earth tones, with bright pillows and knick knacks here and there for some punch.
During the week, I’ll wake up early and take my mug of coffee outside to enjoy the early morning ocean air and flip through the newspaper. I’ll watch the sunrise and the early morning joggers and listen to the seagulls searching for their breakfast. In the evenings, I’ll come home after work and go for a run on the beach path. Then I’ll cook dinner, with my windows open of course, so I can hear everyone walking their dogs and pushing their baby strollers. I’ll put on some music, maybe Bob Marley or something country, and when it’s time to eat, I’ll pour myself a glass of wine and settle down to eat in the golden beams of the sunset.
On the weekends, I’ll have friends over, and we’ll fire up the bbq and grill hot dogs and hamburgers and sip cocktails while we watch the parade of people bike, walk or skate by us on the bike trail. Then, when we’re full, we’ll play a game of beach volleyball and lounge in the sun until dusk.
Someday I’ll have all of this and more.
(I know it may seem silly to write a blog about “someday” when I just said we should all live for “today.” But, as James Dean once said, “dream as if you’ll live forever, live as is if you’ll die today,” right?)