a big old southern homestead. the kind with the columns around the front porch, that actually wraps around. the kind that has a central staircase that leads up to a wrap around hallway of doors. and there is, somewhere, a pullstring to the attic where generations of secrets and papers and treasures are stowed away.
and i would like it to be the main house of many. on a working farm. i want to bring out big servings trays of iced tea to all the people for lunch. at the back tables. by the big smoker and bbq.