When my husband (died now) was a kid he had a dream of living on a country lane with an
orchard across the way. He lived at the time in war-torn London, and his dream was just a dream. He forgot it.
So he lived in many places, some tough, some ok, some pretty nice, some horrible.
He got to know me. We travelled about, went to live here, went to live there. He never told me about his 'dream' of that country lane and orchard.