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Somewhere out there

There is a house that won't mind a microbus parked in front. A microbus with a new tan gloss paint and shiny silver accents.

There is a kitchen that will love wallpaper with tiny fruits and vegetables smiling and cavorting, purchased from eBay for a bargain.

There is a garden that will languish under the Texas sun, waiting for its mistress to come home, change, and water it in prairie or homemade egl dresses.

There are chickens waiting to be tucked under arm and carried around while abovementioned mistress drops eggs into her apron pockets.

There is a patio for large jars of sun tea and herbs steeping in castile soap.

There is a counter where bread will be left to rise on Saturdays.

There are windows where prisms and crystals will hang.

There is soil for tuberoses, columbine, delphinium, and hollyhocks.

There is a place for sheep. What will we do with the wool? Make shag carpeting. Duh.

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