I've mentioned in a previous post that when I
"retire" I'd like to hide-away in a romantic fishing village.
Somewhere tucked deep within a remote European shoreline; a scattering of houses painted in pastel rainbow shades, where life is always simple, never disrupted, where the blue-grey of the sea can almost be felt in an air infused with its saltiness.
The walk from the waters edge to the village is short, up a dirt road weathered by countless feet, horse-carts of ages past, and now an occasional car that slows to creep through the sleepy town.
For in a single blink, and a passerby might miss the sparkle of color pouncing around an unsuspecting corner;
an earthen pot painted in eye-popping aqua blue and overflowing with cherry pink flowers;
the sun spattering across clothes hung to dry across a porch railing.
Each day at noon the center of town, the very essence of the tiny cluster of ancient homes and buildings, becomes alive with the shouts of fisherman selling their catch.
Fish of every size and shape, crabs, eels, an occasional octopus or squid - so fresh the salt in the air mingles with a distinctly fishy scent that by evening has drifted out with the boats at sea.
Ah the sea. The sea with its frothy swells that tickle the sand before dancing back from the shore.
From my bay window I spend hours gazing out to the horizon, where the rugged young fishermen are silhouetted in the drowning light of dusk.
The sky spreads like carpet of hot pinks, muted golds, and dusky purple over the rippling waves, a picture only the Master Artist could create.
I watch as the sun sets lower, a mug of rich espresso in my hand
and a purring feline at my side.
Dreamily I allow my eyes to drift over my small cottage, washed antique-white on the outside, the perfect size for myself, my piano, and a cat or two. I have decorated it in one of my favorite styles, country-cottage, a purposely worn, antiqued look brimming with shades of soft color...
Oh thats right. In reality I am sitting at the desktop, typing away while I should be doing something productive. Day dreaming? Who, me? ;) I was about to mention that my "retired" life would be one of the utmost simplicity...but then. How could I possibly live without my computer? After all, my friends live inside it! haha
So I will have my cottage, I will have my peaceful village...
(the story might change a bit if I also mentioned I might choose Massachusetts or Prince Edward Island rather than Europe. Decisions, decisions...)
But once in a while, just once in awhile, the whimsy might be shattered by the sound of a vacuum cleaner, a ringing phone, or the sound of hurriedly typing fingers?
Of course. How would I keep up with blogger?