Today, my wonderful husband brought our son to Music Together, and insisted that I stay home and rest. It is true for me that when I get a little tickle in my throat, when I’m feeling a little congested and a little “off,” if I can get some solid sleep and have a restful day I can usually stave off a bout of full-blown illness. This is how I was feeling yesterday, so my husband did what he could to give me enough downtime to try to head off whatever seemed to be coming my way. You would think that would be fabulous enough, but it’s not the One Fabulous Thing for the day.
I was able to sleep in a bit, but I was awake when my husband got the baby ready for class and I was able to blow them kisses out the door as they left. I got dinner going in the crockpot, then retreated back to my bedroom with a copy of a local magazine and my Kindle. I cannot tell you the last time I read in bed during daylight hours, and it was heaven. I read through the local magazine, making note of stores I’d like to check out, local events coming up that would be fun to go to, and local restaurants that might be worth trying.
I say this, but please realize that it’s all mostly talk. I rarely get any time to myself to poke around little shops, and as I’ve mentioned it’s sort of an uncomfortable thing for me. Our weekends are precious, and the mercurial weather means that the planned art gallery walks might be fun and enlightening or bitter icy cold and not happening. We go out to dinner so few times a year that a restaurant would have to be pretty spectacular to make the cut. But that’s not the point. The point is thinking about the possibilities, the depth and breadth of the opportunities that abound in the few square miles around where we live.
The most amazing of these opportunities became apparent to me when I read a short blurb about the contest that a local bakery is running to choose the person who will take ownership of the bakery later this year. For a nominal entry fee and a 280-word essay, the winner will get the keys to the kingdom. My mind was immediately off and running. I would enlist my mother to move down here and manage the day-to-day operation. My kid would grow up with the smell of sugar and vanilla surrounding him, doing his homework at the small tables in the bakery. I could picture myself, tired but fulfilled, carefully piping intricate designs on cupcakes in the early morning hours. It could happen. I could do this.
Will I? I’m not sure. But the essay is composing itself in my mind, the possibilities too attractive to ignore. It’s a little more tangible than the normal “what if I won the lottery” daydreams, and a whole lot more delicious.
So, Fabulous Thing #51: Sweet dreams.