A perfect day

My perfect day would begin not before sunrise and later than a workday.

It would have to start with hot, strong coffee with real half and half and a pinch of raw sugar in a mug big enough so a second cup isn’t a necessity but not so large that the last sips are cold. I’d probably take it to a comfy sofa and read or write for a while.

Eventually I’d change from my nightgown to clothes that would would be comfortable and casual.

The sun would be out and the beach would be nearby but it wouldn’t need to be so warm that swimming was a must. I’d prefer to walk along the shore and watch the plovers scurry on the sand and listen to the steady hum of waves rolling in over the sandbar and gulls calling overhead. The sky overhead would be big and blue. I wouldn’t walk alone-we’d have the beach mostly to ourselves though- and the conversation would ebb and flow like the water sliding up and back on the wet sand.

Lunch would be easy and casual. At home. Something from the fridge that required no more than a grind of pepper or a splash of balsamic vinegar.

There would be time with favorite people in the afternoon. Family, friends. Maybe they’d stop in or maybe they would be staying the night. I might settle back on that sofa and read chapter in my book. Or finish a few rows of knitting. Or someone would suggest a bike ride. A nap at some point- after all, we’re talking about a favorite day.

As the sun slid lower in the sky, the air would cool enough so that a sweater felt right and a fire in the fireplace was in order. Maybe a little Diana Krall in the background.

I might make soup or steam mussels. There would be wine. And olives seasoned with  oil and herbs. A green salad and crusty bread and creamy butter too. Time around the table and lively conversation. Favorite dishes and cloth napkins. Candles too. And something small and chocolate at the end of the meal.

It wouldn’t be a late night. But I’d stay awake long enough for a stroll after dinner to admire the stars. The moon would be shining and big enough to provide all the light needed to see.

The rumble of those high-tide waves crashing at the shoreline would be what I listened to as I drifted off to sleep.