The keys to my dream house

Ambling up the hill, surrounded by trees that are beginning to drop their red and orange leaves for the autumn, stepping over fallen twigs and mush. The smell of wet earth gliding up my nostrils and the scents of wet plants attaching to my walking boots. I climb over the small rocks, through the trees into a hidden spot. Only I and the person who built it, knows that this exists, this is my home, I have the keys to my dream home fully in my grasp.

Made entirely out of logs, wrapped in climbing Jasmine plants, winter and summer blooming to allow for all year colour. The wooden shutters on the windows are slightly ajar, camouflaged into the rest of the scene, yet allowing a glimpse of what is awaiting inside, a door that you can just make out waiting for me to enter. My dream home, here I am.

As I turn the key and then the handle, I can hear the rustling of creatures nearby, the songs of the birds above me, which I am certain are chirping my favourite nursery rhymes. The humming of crickets and grasshoppers. The door opens slowly, but it does open, and I walk inside slowly, taking in every nook and cranny that is now mine. It is not a large house but it is still spacious. Perfect for one. Walking straight into the lounge, I find my eyes fixated on the log fire, loaded with wood and tempting me to ignite it. That is where I head to first, using the poker and the matches until the flame has taken hold. Feeling the warmth begin to warm my wet clothes I turn and consider what is in store for my future. There is a mix between new and old furnishings which appear to complement each other. I head to the floor lamp which is shaped like a naked lady and switch it on. The shade around her head lights up like a halo and the shadows become accentuated within the room. The settee is of a soft texture and is covered in large and small cushions that can be rearranged to ensure that I am comfortable and relaxed.

There is no television in the house but there is an inbuilt stereo system that plays throughout my home, following me as I move from one room to another.

My dogs come in from their explorations outside and head straight for the dog beds that are made of the same soft material as the settee. Worn out from their sensory overload, they lay down quietly and I know that I have found the right place to live because the dogs are settling so easily. They are feeling my peace and tranquillity.

The floor is wooden, with a large shaggy rug in front of the fire. The pile is so thick and soft that I am desperate to take off my shoes and rub my feet in it. Not yet though, there is more to explore.

As I walk past the small dining table, into the open plan kitchen, I consider the colours on the walls, the mixture between light and dark woods accentuate the shape and spaces. With the fire flickering, it is cosy and homely. The wall is covered in photos of special people, family, friends and important memories that I will forever cherish. No clock, no alarm, nothing but the natural things in life. No more time keeping, no more rushing about. Time does not exist within this home. The kitchen is large and has a breakfast bar separating it from the lounge, again, natural wood. It has every appliance I could need. The freezer is large enough to store enough food for a month so shopping trips will be limited. After all, it is a good half an hour walk just to get to the car.

At the back of the kitchen there are french doors that lead out of the house. With a stretch of trees hiding my home, there is a gap directly from the doors, leading to a path, that leads to a lake. I am able to see the crisp waters moving in the wind. There is no path around this part of the lake. No one is likely to ever come past, unless I invite them by boat.

To the side of the kitchen are the winding steps leading to upstairs. They are winding so that they do not take up much room yet provide a beautiful view. As I reach near the top I am able to see the upstairs. The only door is the one to the bathroom. The rest is open plan around the circumference of the house. A wooden banister ensuring that I do not fall to the ground floor. This gives the illusion of space while maintaining the cosiness.

My bed lies in wait for me. It looks fluffy and large and definitely enough room for myself and the dogs to snuggle up together at night. The duvet cover is a dark blue that contrasts the logs that make up the outside walls. There is a rug that is under the bed and reaches across most of the room. It is thick and fluffy, again calling my toes to hide in it. There are lamp shades and pictures throughout the room which depict areas of beauty The sea, the woods. I can not wait until I am able to climb into that bed.

Walking around the upstairs to the other side I reach a new space, more modern that the rest of the house. It has inspirational quotes covering the walls and a desk in the middle of the room, almost looking down to the ground floor. A chair that is firm for my back yet looks extremely comfortable, with lumbar support and arms to rest on. Around the room, filing cabinets rest, holding my articles, research and important memorabilia. There is a large glass sheet stood in the middle of the space with markers, ready for my inspirational ideas and brainstorms to flow.

Next to the desk stands a book case. On each shelf there are pens and pencils of every sort. Plain paper, lined paper, my note books. Sat directly on the desk is my laptop, open and ready for me to begin writing. I cannot wait. I am excited to start writing my book, the one that will make me famous.

It must wait for now, I am heading back down the stairs, having picked a book from the wall across the landing. There were so many to chose from. Cuddled up within the cushions of the settee, with a hot chocolate in my hands and a blanket covering my body, one of the dogs slips into my arms and snuggles up with me while I read, in silence, with nothing but the sound of the crackling fire and the dogs snoring.