Some days, I want to be someone else. Not that I don’t want to be me. I like being me, being goofy, serious, neurotic me. But some days, it might be fun to be someone else. (don’t use pop psychology, just go with it ok?)
The person I want to be most is a reclusive writer, with a cottage in the middle of nowhere, with a dog called Jack (more on this imaginary dog some other time). With no large water bodies or a phone anywhere nearby. Just Jackie boy warming my feet, a laptop, lots of coffee, a cozy table, lamp and me. Books covering every surface. A writer, poet. Changing the world with that brilliant novel. This me knows how to play the guitar and the violin and is quite well read, what with being a writer and all. This me even understands Shakespeare without the Lambs helping out, and can argue whether or not Shakespeare was a chauvinist.
A winemaker. Mmm. Vineyards in Italy. A nice crumbling stone cottage with a fireplace, logs crackling in the fireplace during winter, lovely employees who sing as they crush the grapes (hey, it’s MY imagination). Besides the winemaking, I am also a shepherd in my free time. “The hills will be alive with the sound of bleating.” Let us establish at this point that imaginary Jack will always be by my side. (Daddy, Ma? See? This is what happens when you deny your ONLY offspring a pet. Too late now. I am evidently damaged.)
A chef. Surrounded by fresh fruits and vegetables, and so much possibility. Flour
in my hair and a smile of satisfaction at my glorious Christmas pudding. Chopping, crushing, steaming, baking. Spices: star anise, bright oranges, fragrant cumin, glossy red chillies, cinnamon sticks, bay leaves (take out the chillies and the cumin, and I could make mulled wine at this point.)
Edith was right. I am a hopeless romantic.
The person I want to be most is a reclusive writer, with a cottage in the middle of nowhere, with a dog called Jack (more on this imaginary dog some other time). With no large water bodies or a phone anywhere nearby. Just Jackie boy warming my feet, a laptop, lots of coffee, a cozy table, lamp and me. Books covering every surface. A writer, poet. Changing the world with that brilliant novel. This me knows how to play the guitar and the violin and is quite well read, what with being a writer and all. This me even understands Shakespeare without the Lambs helping out, and can argue whether or not Shakespeare was a chauvinist.
A winemaker. Mmm. Vineyards in Italy. A nice crumbling stone cottage with a fireplace, logs crackling in the fireplace during winter, lovely employees who sing as they crush the grapes (hey, it’s MY imagination). Besides the winemaking, I am also a shepherd in my free time. “The hills will be alive with the sound of bleating.” Let us establish at this point that imaginary Jack will always be by my side. (Daddy, Ma? See? This is what happens when you deny your ONLY offspring a pet. Too late now. I am evidently damaged.)
A chef. Surrounded by fresh fruits and vegetables, and so much possibility. Flour
in my hair and a smile of satisfaction at my glorious Christmas pudding. Chopping, crushing, steaming, baking. Spices: star anise, bright oranges, fragrant cumin, glossy red chillies, cinnamon sticks, bay leaves (take out the chillies and the cumin, and I could make mulled wine at this point.)
Edith was right. I am a hopeless romantic.
6 comments:
:) this post could easily have been conjured sitting by a window that reflected the snow plaguing uk now, giving you fodder for fantasy..
n something tells me Jack resembles Snowy a lot
the coffee in uk is of good quality, this post tells me that ;)
heyy love.....
jst loved this one....please be a winemaker so that i get to stay with you in italy(you ar my godmotehr if not for my kids:read as dogs:p)
n yea m waiting to read bout this jack:D
love ya gurl:-*
@kk - Thank you :)snowy is cute, but Jack is a scruffy half breed, or maybe a fat Labrador.
@M - My lovely! My godchild? you? please. Your kids are mine, mwahahaha. Yes yes. If i ever actually earn any money, you have dibs on that villa :) (especially because you commented first unlike a certain person we know...*cough cough Mona cough*)
thank you for reading M.
aw..... niceee...:)
be all three!
good. well... keep writing. eagerly waiting.
acchu
like like like like
i'hve always dreamed of some place in a middle of nowhere on some hill or high place, with a view of trees and river, no dogs around :), only me (wont mind some ducks instead) spend the night with candle light or counting the stars and shooting stars, in the morning enjoying the morning breeze, afternoon gentle wind and the view :) i could trade that life for anything, leave everything behind and just go!
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