Mr. Jones, Where you think you are going?

I don’t think I’ll follow Mr. Jones…

My luxury might not be so much of a luxury for some. But for me it has been a dream for a looong time. I dream of a small house, a red house, out in the Finnish countryside. It would be a wooden house, with corners painted white and a tar coated roof, a chimney poking through it. Inside it, a kitchen with baking oven, that would heat with wood. Next to the kitchen a small living area and then a bedroom. There should also be a sauna next to the house. A good old smoke sauna, from where you could take a dive to the lake next to it.

This house would be surrounded with a slightly wild garden, with big and old apple trees, a potato field and some roses from old Karelia. Some shade would give a large pine tree at the corner of the lot. Behind there, would be sitting a small stable, for a couple of furry horses. They would have a field and a piece of forest to roam in. The stables would also serve as a home for a couple of pigs, just because pigs are wonderful characters. Maybe there would be also a dog or two, to play around the garden. And a cat, to show the example on how to relax.

There would be the Waffle, coming around the corner, with a scythe lain over his shoulder, bits of hay stuck to his boots. Grinning the way he sometimes does. It would be the quiet side of life, where you drink the apple juice you squeezed from your own apples.  The stage that comes after we are ready to slow down.

This kind of a dream I hope to achieve one day. But right now, I can’t afford it. I can’t afford to loose this chance to travel, see the world and live on the faster side of life, to live to the full.

My Luxury, for the daily prompt: Keeping up with the Jones’


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