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What If

The latest Mosaic Minds theme must be buzzing my head because I had a bit of a day-sleep-dream - for lack of a better word - this morning that had me thinking What If?

What If I moved back to my small town or the medium-sized city near it?

I had images of living in a nice little two story house, with a bulldog or golden retriever - (it depends, you see, on who wins the Type-of-Dog war - me or D).

I would wake up in the morning to see D off to his interesting and exciting marketing job, perhaps at Labatts or Kellogs. I would make him an egg white omlete or at least put out his vitamin in the morning before curling up back into bed for another half hour or so.

Or perhaps, I would stay awake, reading the paper and enjoying a good cup of Earl Grey tea in the sun room, watching out the back window into my well manicured garden - filled with sunflowers and gerbia daisies.

After I had fully woken up, I would head to the office upstairs, to begin my day. I would have a couple of stories on the go - one about the best resorts in Thailand, another about the city's tourism board's annual conference.

The morning would also be filled with phone calls - one from my book editor who had recieved the second draft of my Year in Leeds and wanted to suggest some changes.

Another from my event clients - because I would get bored just being a travel writer - I would also become an event planner for corporate events.

Around 1, I'd break for lunch. Some days, I would grab a salad or tuna sandwich. If I was busy, I wouldn't take a break in the day - simply going back to the computer to work or our for meetings to finalize party details or perhaps interviews with experts for my book.

Some afternoons I would head to my writer's group - all of us at different stages of the journey and - in my perfect fantasy world - there would be no competition between us. Simply supportive, innovative and hilarious people.

Other afternoons I would take an extended lunch to go visit friends. Hang out at the houses of my newly mothered friends - who would be in need of some help and adult company.

I would always try to get back before D was home and do some more work. By about 6, we'd be sitting on the couch, enjoying some wine and talking about our days.

After dinner - which we would both make - I would retire back to the office for a couple more hours of work, possibly most of my writing because of the quietness of night.

By 11, D and I would be in bed, reading our books, with our own little bedside lights on our bedside tables.

It wasn't just the one day I was picturing. It was the whole lifestyle package.

My parents would have moved back to Canada as well, to their little house on the Avon in Stratford. At least once a week, we would drive to see them for dinner. Sometimes, I would arrive early so that I could make them dinner. Or sometimes, they would simply come to our house.

My mom would be working for the theatre company while my dad would be a drummer in a band, his "retired job".

D's parents would still be in Oakville - not too far off - and we would usually go there for a Sunday dinner.

My sister C would be in Stratford as well, working for the festival and her and her husband K - for I'm sure when this story comes true they will be married - would come for dinner with our parents or sometimes, we'd go out for lunch during the week. We would also spend some time at K's cottage.

My other sister H would still be in the U.S. but would be a very successful professor and theatre school owner. During the summers, she would come and stay at my parents house, running acting and singing workshops for kids out of the local school in Stratford.

My film producing brother would fly in from time to time...on his own private jet...of which he would be a pilot.

At least once a month I would be gone "working", in some far away place. I would be exploring, observing, critiquing in places all over the globe - an African safari, a trek through Peru, the best spas in the Greek islands, the resorts of Fiji, the best cottages in the Muskokas.

And I would be so happy to come home, to D, who would have spent his evenings with friends playing ball hockey or watching sports or reading.

I would be happy to be settled in a place that had my bed, my chairs, my food, my dog.

I would be happy because I would not feel trapped. I would have all the people around me that I loved.

Talking to E yesterday, she asked me if "home" would ever inspire me again.

I really don't know. But imagining being there certainly stirred something.


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