An occasional series based on stuff that hangs in my room… or my heart.
At first, it was Minneapolis that was my big dream. Then it was New York City and St. Petersburg, Russia; later, it was Boston and Paris. Strangely, I don’t recall 
many dreams about love or marriage or children. My dreams never included a particular house or car. In some ways, I think, it was because my parents got their big dreams of travel before I was born (Mom working in DC after growing up in Wisconsin, Dad through the Civilian Conservation Corps and serious time in the Pacific as a Marine during World War II).
These days? I’m not sure I have big dreams either. Challenging, sure: living in a more healthy way, physically, spiritually, and emotionally. Once again fitting into my favorite red knit dress. Being kinder to others and to myself. Worrying less about what others think of me. Practicing patience and diplomacy. Not worrying or reliving bygone memories at 3 a.m.
Come to think of it, those are pretty big dreams after all.
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