sometimes i think about settling down

i want a house with no fence and a door with a broken lock whose hinges are well accustomed to swinging and an oven that knows the feel of a sheet of cookies baked with the intent of sharing and a table that has served meals and conversations much more valuable than the wood it was made out of. rooms that have felt the heartbeats of friends, strangers, visitors, and family members as they have drifted off to sleep and a tea kettle that sits on the stove ready to take part in the ritual of shared tea and shared story. and a row of sunflowers in back that greets me as i sip coffee in the morning. i want to make bread and cinnamon rolls and have dance parties in the kitchen that carry on to the living room and backyard. the walls are an art gallery of stories waiting to be told and family is whoever is at the dinner table. it smells of mint and orange and cinnamon and lavender and pound cake turning golden brown and vanilla incense. a shelf dedicated to children's books that should be remembered and reread. and a place where single people don't feel awkward hanging out with married ones and young adults sit with wise old ones and listen with the intent of learning something worthwhile and taking part in story...
a place where story happens.