I eagerly await the day when I can go home and settle there.
Everything's in place, except for one or two vital points. I know what I want to do, who I want to work for, why I'm going back.
I know how I want to design my house. The land's bought, and the mortgage shouldn't be a problem; all we need to do is build.
I've begun to think about smaller details. What colours to use, what materials, luminaries. Whether to use a spiral stair. I've even begun thinking about what I want to hang on the walls.
My employers keep a lot of military artwork. What with one thing or another, I end up seeing a lot of prints of battles, soldiers, regiments, parades. I'd like a piece of that to take with me when I go home.
This print in particular intrigues me. It's on display at several of the centers I look after. You don't really get a good feel for it, looking at it on the web.
It just seems so peculiar, to be doing this. To be choosing the art I want to hang on the walls of my own house. It's something I'd almost resigned myself to never being able to do.
Now I am.
