The only development thus far has been discovering that my dear husband and I have slightly different ideas about the kind of house we’d like to live in. He keeps showing me listings that have boarded up windows, boast of “freeway access”, and almost inevitably are pictured with at least half a dozen broken down cars, ally cats or abandoned refrigerators strewn about the front yard.
I picture us in something like this:
During a recent trip to the hardware store, I drifted into the garden center and picked up a 6-pack of Irish Moss. Armed with my miniature “lawn”, and my trusty pack of construction paper, I got busy sketching out the modern home pictured above.
I simplified the design a little to accommodate my clumsy and inelegant construction paper-cutting skills.
After a bit of snipping and gluing, my paper home began to come together.
I glued toothpicks to the back of the finished design, drew some furniture in the windows, and covered them with wax paper to give a translucent look.
I went into the garden to look for a rock that would make a nice backyard mountain range, created a waterfall out of more wax paper and part of a Q-Tip, added a stream, and presto…The house of my dreams?
(Minus the ducks, garage, and all that other crap.)