So much about this tent makes me want to be sitting on that bed, pretending to read as the breeze plays with the pages.
Or here, sipping port in my drawing room while I cross my legs under the great weight of my dinner gown...dipping my plume into ink and scribbling wildly about my adventures as an Elizabethan.
Because there would be many...
walks in the moors
parties at the neighboring manor
and rainstorms where ankles get twisted and men ride up on their white steads to rescue you.
Dreaming up a life today,