How I built my greenhouse.

I think there are many folks whose minds start racing when they lay down at night. I am one of these. Things to do, or just plain random thoughts start dashing about demanding attention. Rarely are they important thoughts, which is why they haven't been given space during the day. But, they nonetheless are demanding the floor. My strategy for dealing with this has long been to build something. Start to finish, in my mind. Once construction details are all sorted out, I am satisfied to let thought go to dreams. The choice of building project can be of necessity; I need to build a stile over the front fence line so the kids can get to the bus without opening and shutting the gates, so I plan, measure, make a list of materials and then construct the stile in my head. Or, it can be diversionary; build(or design) a ballgown for in imaginary person of the 17th century, build a cake version of a canal lock. Sometimes it is building a situation and thinking from the inside of that situation. For instance, last night I started thinking of what it would be to be blind. Then I moved on to paraplegic. I was woefully unsuccessful. I just couldn't wrap myself inside that body. So, I started thinking about what someone looking at that person would feel, then how I would feel about those feelings, were they aimed at me. Again, fell short. I tried thinking smaller. What does someone looking at me think about me? Here I realized I am perhaps extremely un-self-actualized. I've no idea what people really feel when they are with me. Now, keep in mind, I am not looking for impressions from my readers. The point is, I couldn't even imagine imagining someone who was not me, being with me. This is no way to get to sleep.
Am I a Sarah? Sarah is a girl from my childhood, older than I, and possessed of a magical quality that I just wanted to be near. She was beautiful, yes, with cream skin, rosy cheeks, dark brown eyes and an easy smile. She had a raspy laugh that she shared frequently. Her hair was always cool- long for years, then she went super short. She had two step-sisters, larger-than life gorgeous girls, smart and a bit overwhelmingly Viking and vivacious. I think Sarah saw herself as the odd-woman out. But, I saw her as the real center.  I think I was a peripheral person to her, she was always polite, but I'm not sure I even squeaked out words when she was around because I studied her so. I remember her hand motions, the way her eyes squeezed together when she laughed. The way her jeans jacket smelled like cigarette smoke and Tatiana perfume. It wasn't that I wanted to be Sarah, I just didn't want to miss any little bit of her magic.  I don't think I'm a Sarah.
Am I a Paige? Paige can do anything, make it happen. If she had military aspirations, she might have been our first 5-star female General. Wonderfully, deservedly in charge.  Extremely organized and perfectly presented. Nope, not a Paige. I can make stuff happen, but I would guess that is mostly luck and blithe ignorance of the details.

At this point, I realized I won't be able to put it together. I will never understand what it is to not be me, being with me. I have as much of a shot at building this situation as I did feeling blind. So, I built a greenhouse from the old house windows, got my seedlings started and went to sleep.