The Mid Life Dating Files 2025

Write about your dream home.

My Dream Home: Mermaid Edition (Flip Flops, Fresh Veggies & Spirit Water)

If we’re dreaming, we might as well DREAM big, right? So let me just go ahead and say it…

My dream home would be sitting right beside the bluest blue ocean you’ve ever seen. The kind of blue that makes you question every crayon you’ve ever owned. Somewhere life is simple. Calm. Relaxing. Peaceful. The temperature stays about the same all year long so I never have to check a weather app again.

So basically… Hawaii. 🌺

Now listen, I’m fully aware that Hawaii comes with a few “minor details” like hurricanes, earthquakes, volcanoes, and the occasional tsunami. Just tiny uncontrollable forces of nature. No big deal. But have you seen Hawaii? The beauty almost makes you forget that the island itself is technically on fire sometimes.

And I love that there are multiple islands to choose from. Each one has its own personality. Different vibes. Different sand colors. Yes, different colors of sand! Black, white, golden… it’s like the beach version of picking out flooring samples.

You can literally choose your lifestyle by picking your island.

Fast-paced? Slow and quiet? Tourist town? Hidden paradise?

As for me? I think I’d be a beach bartender. Flip flops. Swimsuit or sundress. Salty air. Zero stress. “Would you like that with an umbrella?” would be my most difficult daily decision.

Although… Blaze might take that job.

Because Blaze will absolutely be my sous chef and beach bum sidekick. I picture him supervising from the kitchen floor, taste-testing (with approval, of course), and then heading straight to the beach for sand patrol. Honestly, I may need to train him as my bartender too. I mean, how hard can it be? Shake, pour, wag tail.

But let’s get back to the house.

One story. That is non-negotiable. As we get older, stairs are not our friends. I refuse to wear one of those “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” necklaces because I tried to carry laundry upstairs.

And let’s be real… I don’t even need stairs to fall.

My name should’ve been Grace because I fall all the time. I’m so clumsy. I wake up with bruises and think, “Where did that come from?” Then I remember I walked into a counter, a chair, or possibly thin air.

Now… I will say… sometimes when I drink, I do forget things. My friends tell me that “Spirit Water” comes out and takes over. (I do have Cherokee heritage, and somehow that name stuck… plus apparently I can get a little out of hand.)

Now whether Spirit Water is responsible for my missing memories, my dance moves, or the occasional mystery bruise, we may never know. I’m not claiming it’s Alzheimer’s or dementia — I’m sticking with Spirit Water for name’s sake. It sounds much more mystical and way more fun. And to be fair, I get bruises when I’m completely sober too… so we can’t blame everything on Spirit Water.

Back to the fun part — the kitchen.

My kitchen will be BIG and open because I love to cook. And when I cook, there will be dancing. And singing. And a drink in my hand. Preferably wine or a margarita.

Picture this: music playing, me stirring something fabulous on the stove, belting out lyrics I probably don’t fully know, Blaze supervising both my cooking and my dance moves, waiting patiently for a taste test.

The open floor plan means I can cook and host family gatherings while still being part of the laughter. Ocean breeze flowing through the windows. Friends gathered around the island. Me spinning dramatically with a wooden spoon microphone.

And after cooking? I’ll be in my beach chair with a margarita or some tropical beach cocktail in hand, listening to the waves roll in. If Blaze successfully completes bartender training, he may be mixing those too. We’ve got time to work on his certification.

Outside, of course, there’s my small but mighty garden.

Because I’m vegetarian and health-conscious, fresh vegetables and herbs are a must. Tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, zucchini, basil — all of it. There’s something peaceful about stepping outside barefoot, picking your dinner, and knowing exactly where your food came from.

Fresh air. Fresh food. Fresh perspective.

And here’s the best part — I would design this house myself. Every inch. Every detail. Because this wouldn’t just be a house.

It would be my forever home.

And the funny thing? I already have my house plan ready. I’m ready to build. Just waiting on my current house to sell. Downsizing is calling my name in this chapter of life, and I am answering. Less stuff. More peace. More water. More intention. Fewer stairs.

Because if Hawaii doesn’t happen (yet 😉), then my house will be near the river.

I have to be near water. It’s non-negotiable.

I’m basically a mermaid. Water is essential to my existence.

Ocean waves or river current… I’ll take either one. Just give me sandy toes (or flip flops), a garden full of greens, a big kitchen for dancing and singing, Blaze as my sous chef and possibly bartender, a margarita in my hand, and Spirit Water making occasional guest appearances.

That’s my dream home.

Simple. Peaceful. One story.

Fresh vegetables.

Beach cocktails.

A loyal sidekick.

And hopefully fewer mystery bruises… but no promises.🧜🏿‍♀️💃🏻🩴🕶️🐈‍⬛🐾🌴🌊☀️🌶️🍍🍷🍹