always evolving - never static

 While reading the August 1993 issue of 

House Beautiful last night,

 I came across THIS sentence, and my heart leaped:

 "The farmhouse seemed a retreat far from the world—a  place where an ascetic aristocrat

 might retire to read philosophy and reorder his soul."

 Ours is not a farmhouse;

 nor am I an aristocrat...

 but in every other way,

 I believe this is the inner ideal that I have long held

 for my surroundings.

 I look around me and see bits and pieces of just such a

"retreat from the world".

Like me, our house is a work in progress--
a place AND a soul reordering itself.

Always evolving.

Never static.