There is a house in Whitefish Bay that keeps calling me. A house where I am supposed to live. I am writing to the universe here, because I know this blog is just for me, the insomniac old broad. A few stiff drinks and a XANAX and I'm still awake at 2 am. Wishing I had my Gramma's dining room table back in the room where it belonged. Setting up my music room in that great old basement. Living in a place where I could see my parents and family as often as I wanted. After all my travels, that tiny trip from Whitefish Bay is NOTHING. They would all get sick of me.
I have a little pipe dream of a house where I want to live. Perhaps God has a moment to listen.
A myriad of rambling thoughts and ideas from an old broad who has been there, done that, bought the T-shirt and threw it away a long time ago. However, this old broad still has a lot to say. Here we go...
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