What If Today..You Daydreamed With Me?

“If you’ve never stared off in the distance, then your life is a shame.”  ~Adam Duritz,

Tucked neatly in the side of a hill just around the bend is a cozy little bed and breakfast. It’s not too small that one feels like there’s no privacy, and not too big to provide room for too many guests.

My favorite room has a canopied four-poster bed laden with a feather bed and white down comforters and piles of pillows that are perpetually entertained by the dance of the flames in the fireplace across the room. An over-sized pale pink armchair sits diagonally in front of the crackling fire, promising to make room for me when I’m ready, right after its nap.

I throw my books on the small table next to the slumbering chair and head for the french doors that open to a private balcony shared with an old weeping willow. Golden strands whisper hello and I smile watching them play with the Autumn breeze.

Freshly fallen leaves crunch as I wander down to the brook sending soothing earthy smells to fill me till dinner. The water gurgles and sings, silencing all other sounds of nature, inviting me to follow its twists and bends until the sun warns me of its departure and I turn back the way I came, my hair carrying some souvenirs, my pockets brimming with others.

After flirting with me mercilessly, soup and freshly baked bread settle themselves cozily in my arms and I make my way upstairs, avoiding the chatter wafting from the sitting room nearby. The over-sized cookies beg to come along, but I only have so many hands so I promise to steal them away at midnight when eating isn’t real.

Refreshed and exhausted I finally curl up under the comforter, balancing my book in one hand and a mug of soup and a chunk of crusty buttered bread in the other, carefully adjusting everything until it feels just right- all except the crumbs who’ll challenge my patience all night like the ticking of the mantle clock.

The willow tree and the fire take turns distracting me but finally lose interest and die down, leaving me to join a world already in progress, between the pages of a novel that should have been finished weeks ago…

I fall asleep remembering that you said you’d be here tomorrow by noon and that you’re looking forward to…

[Your turn…]

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40 thoughts on “What If Today..You Daydreamed With Me?

    • Thanks, Lori. I was/am so tired and just wanted to take a break and do something fun. Thanks for understanding! What a fun hangout yesterday! I HAVE to get my sound working. On one computer the sound works but no video. On another the video works with no sound! Crazy!!

    • Thanks, Stan! I sent this post to my mom this morning because she and I are so close and I thought she’d enjoy it. I told her, “I was having so much fun I could have written for hours.” Perhaps all writing is first enjoyed by the author?
      Honestly, I live in daydreams like this. The next step is to make them come true!
      Thanks for your encouragement, Stan.

  1. …..Hot chocolate, Apple muffins, a crackling fire. I wiggle down farther under the covers, thinking I must be dreaming. The light showing through my closed eyes tells me not. It must be dawn and the sun coming up. I snuggle farther down into the quilt, not yet ready to give up my dreams for the day.
    It’s not tomorrow! It’s today! Your coming! By noon!
    My sleepy brain starts to awake and tells me I really am smelling Hot chocolate and hearing a crackling fire! Wait. How can that be?
    I think back to my last thought before falling into dreamland. You’ll be here by noon and you’re looking forward to…….

    • I know! Hot chocolate. But it has to be in the morning or I’ll never sleep! And I never sleep til the sun comes up. I’m a party pooper and get tired when it starts to set!
      Thanks for playing, Ann. I used to love doing this as a kid: one person starts the story and you pass it on and see where it goes. There’s always someone in the group who brought murder of horror of some sort in to the story…never to be redeemed! Ha!
      I think we’ll have to do tell stories around a campfire in Alaska when we visit Amber-Lee. What do you think?

      • We used to do these long ago on the site I belonged to..so much fun! Now we need to snag some more peeps to keep it going!! I bet alot of people have never done this..and Oh yea..murder and mayhem..would sure be up somewhere in there…lol…I think I actually have the last one I started.. before the mods decided we couldn’t do them anymore (they couldn’t keep up!)
        You need to tell people to add!! a sentence or paragraph or??? and to leave it open for you and then the next person! I’ll zap it off with a few emails to a few people and see if I can jump start them..:) FUN!!!!
        Oh YES !!! Campfire tell stories in Alaska….lol..though I think the road trip crew lined up so far does that even with out thinking OR a campfire! 🙂 2 of those guys I’ll try to get here…hehehe

  2. Betsy, I can’t believe I didn’t know about this blog of yours! Thank you soo much for introducing it to me. It’s such a different side of you and it really highlights your creative writing. =) Beautiful!

    This reminds me of when I was young and used to dream about flying to another city and staying at a random hotel for a night, and then just flying back. There’s something about getting away. But I can’t believe my dream didn’t involve a B&B instead of a hotel, and coziness instead of a drab, old room. =)

    • I started the blog 3 ? weeks ago. So, if you’ve been busy it would be easy to miss.
      I’ve never stayed at a B&B. Thought about starting one, but I think I’d much rather stay at one. I think sometimes that it would be fun ’cause I like to cook and nurture, and get to know people. But I’ve learned that I can only take so much and I need to retreat from the conversation!! I don’t know if I’d make it.
      Someday I’ll get to one. In the meantime I’ll enjoy them in my mind.! Nice to see you Samantha! Have a beautiful weekend. 🙂

  3. The look in her eyes was a little frightening. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought that she was actually digging me. It was a first date, which had been twenty-five years in the making. When I met her, she was young, beautiful, and so intoxicating to be around, that I struggled to breathe in her presence.

    I dreamed of getting up the nerve to ask her out. I spent so long trying to figure out the right words that I never got around to it. She left the little Iowa town where we had met and was off to Paris to model. I was crushed.

    We’d see each other at parties, usually a couple times a year. She was close to her family. I always felt like I had my A game when I was around, witty and charming, as best as I could. The problem is, and I knew this from experience, one’s A game is relative, and when compared to the rest of the male attention seeking population, mine was less than impressive. Still, one can hope.

    It wasn’t until many years later that we started to talk, well, write, via Facebook. I’m most charming when I can use a keyboard and have time to pick just the write word. One day, a few months back, I suggested we get together for lunch next time she was in town. It seemed like a natural thing to type and it wasn’t until I hit the return key that my brain said, “Are you kidding?! Did you just ask her out?…I’ll get a couple of bottles of sleeping pills so you can end it all with dignity”. Before I could figure out the best way to put myself out of my misery, she wrote back, “That would be Awesome!!!”

    Three exclamation points?!

    I was flying for weeks. That is, until the reality of her returning hit me in the face. I had little time to polish up some of my flaws. I’d need more hair, less weight, and could stand to grow another four to six inches. I had two weeks.

    It turns out that none of those things were possible. The first and third were impossible, the second became so after a new realization that nervousness makes me snack.

    Still, ti was too late to back out. Or was it? I check to see if there were any plagues or viruses sweeping across eastern Iowa. There were not.

    So, we went and ate lunch, and then we talked, and talked a bit more. I’m not sure how the day crept past so quickly, but before I knew it, we were eating dinner. I don’t know the rules of dating and spent a fair amount of time, while she had excused herself to to to the “ladies”, trying to figure out if this was still a first date, or did it count as date two once the appetizers had arrived. I never figured it out.

    Now, we’re standing alone, it is chilly and pleasantly dark. If I were writing this scene, I’d kill off the male character at this point. Who doesn’t love a tragic and heroic death, just before great love blossoms? It worked for Shakespear. She said something, but I missed it. Damn, I think she winked afterwards, too.

    It seems that I’m may have suffered an infatuation induced head trauma, because everything is getting a bit foggy. She smiled again, and without thinking I said, “You are delightful in ways I can’t even begin to describe.”

    I don’t remember what happened after that. I may have blacked out. Still, my gut tells me it was a pretty good day.

    [I hope that was good enough. 🙂 ]

    • I’m smiling from ear to ear! That was fantastic! I really didn’t know if anyone would play along. HA! But you and Ann sure did play.
      You are a very good writer….pulled me right in. Now I want to know …what happened!!! (< 3 exclamation marks).
      Have you written books or short stories, Brian? You are a natural.
      Thanks for the entertainment!!!! (4)

      • Betsy,

        On Jan 2, 2010, I was alone in my house, bored, with hours to go before the bowl game. I could have done some woodworking, because it was my new hobby, but I just didn’t feel like it. So, as I often do, I started wandering around the internet. I landed on a strange place called Blogger. So, with little else to do, I blogged, or as I like to say “Blahged”.

        I hit publish and went on my merry way. The next stop was a forum for woodworkers. It was fantastic and after an hour of reading all sorts of cool stories, I noticed there was a button that just said “blog”, so I went back, c, returned, v, and hit post. I figured I’d already written the post, which was about my foibles in learning woodworking, so why not share it.

        Prior to this day, I had hated writing with a white hot passion. I blamed my evil 8th grade English teacher, Mrs. Johnson. Well, the football game was okay, and the next day I decided to check and see if anyone had read my post. A few people had been to blogger and this was really exciting. On Lumberjocks.com, there were 300 views and 25 comments, most of which said things like, “That was Awesome!”.

        It is amazing how pats on the back can change one’s perspective.

        On Jan 30, 2010, having blogged about woodworking every day since that first post, I had run out of ideas. What if I wrote the first chapter of a noir 50’s era mystery? My hero would love
        woodworking, the Brooklyn Dodgers, and have a mysterious woman enter his life. So I wrote it.

        It was my intent to only write one chapter of the “Henry Wood Detective Agency”. I’ve written four complete novels in the series. The first one, which is available for Kindle or Print, is around 50K words, the next is around 70K, and should be published in the next month, the 3rd is about 80K and the fourth just over 100K. The last two still need to be sent to my editor.

        I also wrote a non-fiction title, Two Decades and Counting, which is about the 1986-87 Iowa Hawkeyes Men’s basketball team.

        So, I’ve accidentally become a writer, mostly because people say things like, “You are a very good writer”, and it always makes me so happy I could just burst. And then I write some more.

        That is my story, sorry for going on so much. I’m glad you liked the story and I’m afraid I have to keep the ending a secret… 🙂 Maybe, one day, you’ll write a post about “Finishing Stories”.

      • Come back when you have some links to the sale of your books. I think it would be fun to share! Please. I might have to activate the link for you… I never know if one will stick or not, but I’d be happy to do it. I can tell that you love to write. Funny how teachers, or anyone for that matter, can have such a powerful influence on us!

    • I saw you with her and watched you talk. You said something funny, she laughed and my heart sank.

      That wasn’t supposed to happen. That is not how I planned it. I had been waiting for the right moment to ask her out, but the moment never came and I watched as you swooped in and took that girl away from me.

      Part of me was happy because you and I are friends. I want my friends to be happy, but not at my expense. How could you not know you were sitting with the woman I had told you about.

      C’mon, how hard was it to recognize that I was talking about the girl from the parties. I know you knew her too, but you never said a word about being interested. You never mentioned her so I never wondered or worried about it.

      And now, here we are.

      You got the girl and I got to watch. Friendship isn’t based upon voyeurism or jealousy. If it was most soap operas wouldn’t work because no one would care who slept with whom or who did what to each other.

      Damn man, what am I supposed to do. You have always been my friend but the heart wants what the heart wants.

      • Nursing your wounds, you walk it out on and around the grounds of the B&B. Check-out time is nagging, but there’s a pull tot this place. How ironic that the three of you ended up in the same place on the same weekend.
        A horse whinnies and moves you to draw nearer as the odors from the barn nearly knock you over. Moans from inside the stall pull you in. Adjusting to the sudden dark, your eyes take a minute to understand what they’re seeing.
        What is SHE doing here?

  4. Betsy, nicely done. I almost didn’t respond because there is no way I can write a piece like that off the cuff so continuing your story would only dilute the passion that it seems it was written with. Like Stan said, more of that would be fantastic.

    Brilliant stuff. I love this site. I have never seen this place until today. Forgive my ignorance but is it new?

    • Yes, Ralph, it’s 6 posts old. Wanna hear something funny? I was so tired of thinking that I started writing this daydream. I though, shoot, I may as well go off into the sunset dreaming. You know when you have to choose “publish” or save? I chose to publish and thought, “Well, there goes the blog!” But it feels like me, so I was happy. Of course I stressed and sent it to my mom ’cause I was sure it was going to bomb, but I thought she’d say I was wonderful like she almost always does and I’d go back to doing …whatever.
      Maybe you could just have a LITTLE fun with me? I’m sure you have a twist to knock our socks of somewhere in you, Ralph.
      Or next time…I’m thinking a lighthouse on a cliff…:)
      ‘Til then…

      • Ummmm…..I will try on the next one. For sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I am a bit of a dreamer myself but somehow my dreaming comes in the form of visual arts. Writing is something that fascinates me and I try, try, try to write creatively but its a struggle. I will try though. Cheers!

      • This post was a fluke…don’t know if I’ll repeat the format. Maybe every once in a while. It is my favorite, but I think people (not I) would get tired of it pretty quickly. We’ll see…all depends on my mood. 🙂

  5. Ann… (cont.)
    The breeze from the open window blew the curtains into the room bringing with it sounds of retreating footsteps on the cobblestones below. In a flash she was down the stairs and opening the front door. That was the last thing she remembered before lifting herself up from the stable floor.

  6. Well, that didn’t work as I planned. I tried to post my response to what Brian wrote next to his, but it didn’t quite work.

      • not sure I saved it..lol…was a twist though!

        If your WordPress is set up like Amber”s..I think there IS a way to put the story add ons together in order and keep the chat comments below..I think..if you can edit after you post..for sure it would work!

      • Amber might have a self-hosted WordPress??
        But I could go and edit…but I’d hate to experiment and lose it all. The key must be to not reply to a comment but to add one..?

  7. Pingback: “Are You A Writer?” and My Answer | Extremely Average

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