#good views

Your cupboards are full of food, not a hoard of pasta to be seen. You bought everything you liked and wanted, with room for more. You bought things just to try. Drinks you’ve never heard of, giggling with your wife as you pick out the riskiest flavors, daring to try them together. Organic filled waffle treats you’d never think of, they weren’t good and you are glad to be able to afford experiencing new things. Everything is yours to share with your family. You live in a peaceful isolation of your home when you choose, no sharing your treasures with the outside world.

You just thrifted a chair. A clean blue chair for 20$, padded and cozy. It sits deeply, and turned out to be perfect for resting in with your baby. She preferred red, but the vintage was a steal. She was just born 4 days ago, and stares around your room at all the light bouncing off of the walls. The curtains are rainbow. Everything is new and wonderful to her. Your son has his own room to play in and fill with all his toys. His car is a racecar bed, you insisted. Brand new and given away by a nice family towns over. He may believe his new sister is a dog, you aren’t sure with how he speaks to her. His great grandpa carries around a tiny chihuahua similarly. he talks to her like he does Missy.

Your perfect thrifted armchair came home that day in the old van. It came with a perfect giant desk, sturdy and yellow. It has a huge flat surface, enough room for you and your wife to sit side by side. It doesn’t wobble, you’ll play games together there. It took you and your wife 20 minutes to convince the old van to open its back doors. You almost had to leave the desk. No one was mad, and the ice cream shop was open after. You can afford all the silly second hand coffee mugs you want. You buy a personally ordered one, personal a long time ago, with a Polaroid of someone else’s dogs on it. You are so proud of that, you show it to your wife. More than once. One of the dogs looks like your old springer spaniel. You’ve already told every funny story about him. 

You have plans for the summer. Future sharing of excitement. Your wife’s schedule allows for long weekends, and you won’t have to miss out on small trips your family might take together. You will camp and fish, the poles sitting in the old van already. You will visit all the niche festivals your area has to offer, when the world allows. The fair for farming and animals and organic living and handmade production, where the best kettle corn in the world hides. The highland festival that sits on one of your rare beaches, as a renaissance fair will never reach you. It is by a candy shop and has cool swords though, with the next town over harboring a giant flea market hub. You will go to the lake where everyone in your area goes, where you grew up, and watch your son dig up clay in the water with the other children, as you used to do.