"When you get older, you also come to the realization that some of your dreams will die..."

And so, here I am- old. I was told I was born old. I was told not to expect 18, and I believed them and so here I am 53- how the heck did that happen?!

Some dreams have died. Divorce. Son is in California... And now I dream a new dream, a little tiny farm in Nevada, if not trees, then tumble weeds. Tumble weeds need to be farmed, too, don't they?

Some dreams die, like some branches culled from a bonsai tree. Some new dream will be cultured. What a funny, weathered, strange, yet beautiful plant. Not yet a tumbleweed.