dear husband-to-be,

turns out i may not be so much of a city-gal as once was thought.
and i want the blinds pulled up, the curtains drawn, the windows open as much as possible.
i don't do well with dishes in the sink.
and i'll need you to remind me to do things every once-and-a-while, like pick up paper-toweling at the grocery store.
i want pictures everywhere and beautiful dishes.
and a garden outside. a yard, even.
i want the ability to obtain home-grown beef-steak tomatoes. (have you had them with garlic, balsamic vinegar and a little feta? nectar of the gods, i say. nectar of the gods).

will you be okay with these things?

that's all. for today. i suppose.