The Not So Bazillionaire

At some point during the last week, I realized that hub and I are about to step toward what I once considered my lottery dream. You know, those things that you dream of but don’t really feel are reachable without some divine intervention of some sort. Yep. I am about to take a giant step toward making mine a reality.

I am a fairly simple person to please on most days. My lotto dream consisted of enough land that I could spread out and have space to BREATHE in my own back yard. A place where I could feel free to pursue terrible gardening, let my pups run without leashes, and could play whatever music I cared to hear from speakers while I was soaking up some sunshine. My lotto dream had me planted on 20 – 100 acres. Fenced. On a compound of sorts with my kiddos, my poppy and the rest of the family that we loved sharing this space filled with nothing but joy on our minds. I wanted critters and a fucking greenhouse. A decent sized pool and a formal outdoor kitchen. Oh…and to be secure enough that my hub wouldn’t have to leave every day to go to work. I don’t need extravagance. I simply wanted happiness. Nothing more really.

In the next few weeks, we are taking the plunge to purchase land. OUR land. It’s not quite big enough for my entire dream compound, but it IS big enough to plant us closer to the people we love and do some of the crazy shit that I have been dreaming about. Greenhouse plans are in the making. A Disc golf course of sorts – ON our property. A pool. My pops will be behind our fence as well so I can maybe worry a bit less about him and my sis will definately be closer. This isn’t a “doing it tomorrow” space but…we do now have an active exit strategy to leave South Florida…and it’s within our grasp.

My lottery dream is becomming a reality without the winning ticket. It’s surreal for me. Each night, I look at my husband and am so thankful for him choosing to be my partner in life. I am grateful for him fueling my passions – and for making our dreams come true. I am scared shitless on the same levels that I am excited.

Now, we need a name for the farm…and my fainting goats.

2 Comments on “The Not So Bazillionaire

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