Generic selectors
Exact matches only
Search in title
Search in content
Search in posts
Search in pages

Dream a Little Dream with Me

Holding Hands Shadow
Holding Hands ShadowImagesPictures

Today, Hubbster took an RDO.  He had a number of boring jobs to do, the likes of which I won’t bore you with now (or ever) but suffice it to say that he got them all done and was home by 1.30 pm.

The Woo was at school (and Foghorn and Bubble go to day-care on Fridays so I can catch up on housework, writing, blogging, shopping etc.)

It was a beautiful winters day, and I was sick of being couped up all day indoors, with a laptop perched on my lap whilst I looked around guiltily at  all the housework I should have been doing.  So I was pleased when Hubbster agreed to going out for a walk.

We held hands as we walked out of our court and made the short walk into the main street of our little country town.  As we walked past the school I drank in the happy sounds of children playing and I scanned the yard for the Woo.  It is funny how you can recognize the silhouette of your child, the form of their body, their movements and idiosyncrasies even with the glare of the sun in your face.

We lingered for a moment on the other side of the street watching him smiling and laughing with his friends, absorbed in their game.  He glanced up and saw us, and smiled and waved before turning away and going back to more pressing things with his comrades.

I squeezed Hubbster’s hand, smiling a quiet but broad smile inside, happy in the knowledge that despite our worries, our son is assimilating into school very well.  We talked and laughed about nothing of any importance,  and we held hands and I felt happy.  So happy and so connected in that easy, comforting way.

We found ourselves looking in the window of the real estate, and Hubbster put his arm around me and pulled me closer as he pointed out a poster for a 1.25 acre block of land.

“That is just around the corner,” I said.  “I pass it when I drop Foghorn at kinder.”

“Let’s go and take a look,” Hubbster said.

We stood in the concrete driveway looking at the outstretch of green before us.

“We’d put trees up all around there,”  Hubbster said gesturing to the long fence-line.

I nodded.   I was there with him.  I could total see it.

We have always wanted to buy a block of land and build our own home, and this block was perfect.  Secluded and big enough to have our own space, our privacy, but close enough to town and the school so that the children could still walk to see their friends.


Before I knew it we were planning which direction the house would be positioned, where the solar panels would sit on the roof, where the shed/mancave would go (as far away from the house as possible) and discussing whether we were going to have a one story with a wrap around verandah, or a two story home (with a parent retreat…aka a wine cellar!)

Unfortunately our plans were interrupted by the realization that we had to get back soon for the school pick up…oh, and the small matter of finances that wouldn’t quite stretch to meet our vision.  Money, shmoney!

As we walked away the mental picture that we had been so absorbed in, that had felt so real and tangible only moments before, paled as we joked about buying a lottery ticket this weekend.

I squinted into the winter sun, and squeezed Hubbster’s hand.  That all-consuming happiness exploded in my gut again as we walked together back to our too-small home.

So what that it may be eons before we get to the place we’d like to be.

It feels bloody good to have dreams together.

All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible. T. E. Lawrence



Jolene enjoys writing, sharing and connecting with other like-minded women online – it also gives her the perfect excuse to ignore Mount-Washmore until it threatens to bury her family in an avalanche of Skylander T-shirts and Frozen Pyjama pants. (No one ever knows where the matching top is!) Likes: Reading, cooking, sketching, dancing (preferably with a Sav Blanc in one hand), social media, and sitting down on a toilet seat that one of her children hasn’t dripped, splashed or sprayed on. Dislikes: Writing pretentious crap about herself in online bio’s and refereeing arguments amongst her offspring.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

For security, use of Google's reCAPTCHA service is required which is subject to the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Use.

I agree to these terms.