Dream House

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a college girl in possession of a good deal of homework must be in want of a way to procrastinate.

That's why I'm lying on my couch, wrapped up in my shock blanket, listening to Taylor Swift songs I've never heard before, watching people play glow-in-the-dark Frisbee, and blogging. And skipping the song I do recognize because it brings back memories of youth Church dances. Holy cow, she's wearing jeans and a hoodie in this video. I thought she always wore pretty dresses. Oh, never mind. There's the pretty dress. Universe can carry on as usual.

I'm really going to write about something other than Taylor Swift music videos. I just haven't figured out what yet.

In desperation, our hero Googles "writing prompts". The internet advises her to write about her dream house. Will our heroine take the internet's advice?
... Yeah, probably.

A few months after Moriah had run her last season writing for Doctor Who, she, Danny, and their kids had packed up and moved from London to Portland, Oregon. I too found myself back in the United States, glad that Moriah and Danny's invitation to spend the week at their new home provided me with an excuse to escape the miserable heat of LA in the summer.

Getting to their house took a while. Living an hour away from the city in the mountains suited Moriah and Danny's careers and stage of life well enough, but they only had to go to the city once a week or so. The commute would have driven daily commuters like me mad before the month was out. The road to the house was lined with astonishingly tall trees, all in their green summer prime. A quarter mile before the house, the road turned to dirt. It was hard to believe that anyone lived in such a wild and untamed place.

My first view of the house was a red brick chimney that jutted out of the roof. As I drove closer, the house came into full view. It was beautiful. The lower half was made of large stones that were all light grey while the upper half was wood that had just a hint of red in it. Large windows reflected the snow-capped mountain   to the west. Sitting in a hammock that hung from below the deck was one of their daughters -had Rose really grown so much in the past two years?-, reading a book.

I stepped out of the car and heard the sound of a brook or creek nearby. Birds called to each other in the trees, making me feel like I was in a "Relax With Nature Sounds" video. The perfect fresh-pine-mountain-scent only added to the feeling.

I had scarcely looked around before Moriah, Danny, and their son John, who had grown about a foot since I last saw him, were all outside greeting me.

This is fun. Perhaps I'll continue it later.