I hate where we live; this is no secret. I have also decided I hate moving. Not the actual process, well yes the actual process as well, but leaving a place. I haven’t done much work today. I got distracted. I am easily distracted. You are surprised.

It started with…that was 6 hours ago, I have no clue where it started. I have gardens on the brain, so it probably started there. I want to build raised beds. I want to build them in the front yard, the back yard, the tree lawn. I want a new front door. I want to add a room, or two, to the house. I want to build a chicken coop. I can’t do any of these things if the plans are to move. It seems like the plans are always to move. I want to plant an apple tree and still be in the same place to reap the rewards. I want to stand still for a while – a long while.  I could do these things, even with the plan to move. I then run the risk of having it all murdered by the next chump to live here.

I need some sort of permanence.

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