Home Sweet Home

Yes, I love to travel but it is important to have a solid home base and it's not just about having a big house, as I have learned recently, it is about having a great home. So Cincinnati is home and although I have only lived here for 35 years, I do get credit for a few past generations who made it their home after the Civil War.

But maybe it's the Danish Viking heritage that lures me to big old homes that remind me of old castles and the solid bones of old houses that catch my attention and conjure up vivid images of having lived there before and walked great rooms with a Lady hundreds of years ago which can be the only explanation of why her hand feels so comfortable in mine. Maybe it was just the crazy movie I saw last night about a somewhat psychotic (and riveting) ballerina. I hope not.

I can see myself prowling these grounds with stone walls and woods and plenty of space for a garden, and a greenhouse seems right and practical if you like flowers and vegetables during the cold months or want to get a jump on Spring before the last frost. In Winter there is a roaring fire in the Great Room and more delicious food (yes, there is always delicious food) and lively conversation, and in Summer there is Bocce in the courtyard (got to have a Bocce court) and food served outside under cover unless the heat and rain drive us inside. And still more lively conversation and good wine, and then standing around the large kitchen cleaning the dishes and pans with friends and family. And music covering the noise of clattering of pans and dishes being dried and put away.

And a lovely smiling face with bright eyes taking it all in and waiting for all the guests to leave.

It must be just the remnants of "Black Swan" but the dream seems so real. Tomorrow I will see "True Grit" and wonder if the dream will have changed. Probably not, except for the cowboy boots and slow drawls. Please check your guns at the door.