I picture us in Paris

Apparently it’s good to picture things vividly that you would like to come to pass and so I picture us in Paris.  

We eat breakfast outside a cafe in Montmartre – the Spring sun cutting through clouds and shining on wet streets and into our sheltered corner.  Coffee, dark and sweet, and lovely crusty croissants with apricot jam, or blackcurrant, I don’t care, but His grin as He leans back on His chair and surveys me and the scene, Gaulouises in hand, is the thing I focus on.  We are at home, both happy, we’re doing our thing.
There will be a home for me.  Comfortable and sorted.  Wooden and tiled floors and rugs with a well supplied kitchen with a range. Two dogs and a cat to snooze in front of it and for the evenings when I curl up with my head in His lap and He strokes my hair, an open fire or wood burner.  There is no damp to Mar the beauty and it smells beautiful, of wood, and orange and lavender.  Painted furniture and soft leather sofas with feather cushions fill the rooms with art on the walls.  Beds have a head and footboard just right for tying and 100 thread Eqyptian white cotton bedlinen soothsayer us to sleep.   There is a sense of the past brought to the present and enjoyed.

We travel to snow painted fur trees with bright blue lakes beneath ice clad mountains. Brought by boatplane and clothed in goretex and fur.  Leatherclad feet warmed by woolen socks and a place to stop and just drink up and in.  A place to watch whilst one paints and another reads and writes.

We visit warm seas whose blue is indistinguishable from the bluest of skies, with white sands and heat that warms us through to our bones as we snooze beside a glorious view before a walk under starlit skies, following the moonpath on the sea to dinner of mussels and Chablis because it’s the law that if they are on the menu we have to order them.

A car, BMW, competent and appropriate and so reliable.  Starts everytime, no question, serviced in a garage on time, everytime.

Our evenings will be spent with music and fires.  There will be visits from family, at ease and happy.  We will provide good food, a comfortable atmosphere, laughter and fun.

There will be hand holding and no knickers. More grinning and hugging.  We will be us, free, just dicking about and being us.

I picture us this way.  I picture us in Paris. 

4 thoughts on “I picture us in Paris

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