Letters from Home

My American Dream…

… has nothing to do with $$$, and never has, although travel always requires work, which requires money in exchange for goods and services.

… spent 3 years in London, and very much likes the Idea of British.

… is sometimes melancholy, and loves thick lyrics that make me want to sing along.

… eats frozen pizzas alone in front of guilty-pleasure television– occasionally and with abandon.

…writes often and in bursts, with music in my ears.

… involves a bicycle, compost, blue jeans, Frances, used vehicles, and iced tea.

… means never having to say “I told you so” or pay for parking.

… has a quiet place to hide and be alone, but always has access to loving friends.

… is bigger than me, but not so large that I can’t imagine it.

… sounds like birdsong and smells like sheets from the clothesline.

… time-travels through all the love imaginable and would be happy to share.

… doesn’t mind being tired, if only it gets Spoon when its sleeps.

… thinks an East-facing bedroom is best.

… loves twilight and popcorn and cold hefeweizen.

… would love if you could come over.

One thought on “My American Dream…

  1. I WANT TO COME OVER TOO! To sit and talk, drink a glass of wine, laugh about the old days and make new memories. Smile knowingly as the kids play in the other room. I MISS YOU MY FRIEND!

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