Sometimes, everything goes to shit. What do you dream of running away from your normal life to do when that happens to you?
Mine is to move to a small tourist town a few hours south of my current city and sell mulberry jam and art to tourists.
(Not necessarily what it would be wise or sensible to do!)
That looks almost exactly like the photos my brother sent me today, he is minus dog.
Also no kids and his van is actually his home when he doesn’t have a house sitting gig.
I’m actually not sure what mine is at the moment.
Maybe stay where I am but have Mr Pancakes quit his job and be at home with me too? That doesn’t seem to quite fit the thread but I’m so tired of moving I don’t want to do it anymore. Not even for holidays.
I rented a van for two weeks in the US in 2010 and drove from San Francisco to Seattle and back. You never realise the freedom until later.
Only because I couldn’t work out how to eloquently say “bunkering down and telling the world to fuck off is also acceptable in this thread”.
Apart from the retired SAHD gig I’ve been living for the last couple of years, I’m dabbling in the idea of being a egg/chicken farmer to supplement our lifestyle.
I spent Friday after gardening up at our rental property chatting with my aunt about the farm where my grandfather grew up, it was his originally grandfathers property, you can see it out her kitchen window. Today I chanced across a property for sale that backs onto that property and it’s quite possible we might be able to do something about it. Tomorrow we’re going for a drive and a look and a think.
A cabin in the woods in northern Wisconsin on a lake that’s named after me.* I’ll bring my cats, books, knitting, hammock, and hiking boots. I’ll spend a ton of time outside most of the year, garden and forage, and maybe get a kayak so I can spend time on the water. In winter I’ll hibernate a lot but make it outside for some snowshoeing each day.
*It’s not Daffodil Lake but I have a slightly unusual name. And I’m pretty sure it had that name before I was born, but I still like to think it was named after me. My husband and I once camped at Lake because it was vaguely on the way to a place we were heading. It was beautiful and peaceful and had my name on it.
Is this exersise constrained by reality? LOL. Because my only daydream like this is escaping my body! I dream of having my mind, memories intact, put into a perfect humanoid robot body that functions perfectly, then I’d just go back to the life I have now!
My biggest escape dream lately is a time machine, just a couple years back. It will pass in time, but dang it’s been strong.
I was thinking I don’t really have any escape plans rumbling about in my brain then realized throughout my entire life I’ve always had move-to-Australia fantasies. Starting when my best friend in grade 1 was from Australia and moved back at the end of the year. But as I got older it seemed a perfect distance where I wouldn’t have to feel so guilty for not visiting family as often.
Boyfriend and I fantasize about moving to the beach and opening a beachfront bar. But then we always realize bars come with drunk assholes and go “meh.” Alternatively, moving to New Orleans and selling our art on the street.
I think this one is a no-go, unfortunately. Ex potatoe farming property, farmhouse is a shitbox I could probably push over by myself.
Zoom in with the +.
Land will have been soaked in dieldren, which even with its half life of 5 years and supposedly stopping it’s use in 1970’s (highly unlikely knowing the farming practices of the area) makes it not highly desirable for raising pastured chickens.
Bugger.
That’s a real bummer 
I also want this, but in the Adirondacks or the Sierra foothills. A little two-room cabin with a woodstove and a loft for a bed.
I also have a daydream of opening up a goat ranch with a friend. We’ll make goat cheese/other goat dairy products and just. hang out with goats a lot.
A huge Victorian mansion on the seashore with my husband and kid and all our friends. We would run a coffee shop with vegan baked goods during tourist season.
Selling all my shit, renting out my house, and going and living on a farm where we work in exchange for a bed and a fridge in a room. and a small portion of the food we help harvest and butcher. We could bring a grill and cook all our food on that.
Mr Pug and I often talk about “Livin’ off the fat o’ the land” somewhere in New Hampshire, and/or building a tiny house and hitting the open road. Some day…
I also want to iterate my daydream of ranching sheep and spinning yarn. The thing here is that I actually follow people on IG who do this. 
I know someone who does this. It’s WAY less glamorous and WAY harder than her IG/FB posts make it seem - and she is a tough lifelong family farmer who likely could break any of us in half with her bare hands.
Oh yeah. I’ve worked in stables enough to know how hard even easy farm labor is (mucking out stalls, carrying hay, etc), let alone serious heavy farm labor, the tight margins, the worry over predators and tough lambings, etc. There are definitely reasons why I stick in the corporate world – the pay is good and I’m not gonna be physically out of the job at age 40.
But in terms of my utterly unrealistic escape plans, sheep ranching and spinning yarn is totally one of them.
