Staring at the mansions Uptown are enough to send me into an almost comatose state of daydream that only a few things can bring me back from.
The almost white but a little bit cream pillars with subtle shading in the morning light from pure white to light gray. The curly doohickeys (rosettes, is that the technical word?) at the tops of the pillars.
I imagine sitting on that top deck, fresh-squeezed lemonade with a shot of
in the mix, whilst sitting upon my
. The kids picking the few dandilions that exist in the yard (because the groundskeeper got rid of most of them, of course).
And the best part of it all? Watching the people and cars driving by Park Street. The hustle and bussle of the 8:50 am rush as the students walk-run up the hill and the professors drive-drink (espresso, ofcourse) up the hill. All from the comfort of my enormous porch and small yard, separated only by my wrought-iron gate.
Never mind the heat bill, the hours of cleaning and lawn manicuring (oh wait, I forgot, I’ll have a groundskeeper and maid!), never mind the cost of maintaining, the cost to furnish the place, and those damn photographers that keep walking by!
In daydreams, those things don’t exist.
One day. Some day. One of these Uptown mansions will be mine.
Park Street Mansion, corner of Excel and Park Streets in Butte, Montana.
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Yes please, Shea Realtors of Butte.