The Dream

I’ve revealed the dream, it seems like, a hundred times.  I have a “short and simple” version to answer the question “Why did you go to culinary school at this point in your life?” and the longer, in depth version, that I share in bits and pieces, but sits mostly in my mind.  Depending on my audience and the topic of discussion, I supply an outline,  a portion of the puzzle, a nugget of my desire.

For you,  I will conjure it fully:

My dream is to own a Bed and Breakfast – quite possibly with my sister.  This grand Victorian would sit on five acres in a yet-to-be-discovered wine region.  My loft-like owner’s quarters would be the old converted barn in the back – dark wood and high ceilings, with plenty of sunlight, sitting beside the brook that borders my property.

The grounds would be home to an ample vegetable garden surrounded by a crushed granite path.  My garden would be the daily inspiration for my menu.  At least an acre of lavender fields, visible from the porch, would undulate in the breeze.  I would use my lavender for cooking and soap making and selling at the farmer’s market, along with my surplus produce.  I would need grape vines to make my own wine, each row capped with rose bushes.  This is not wine for selling, but for private consumption and to share with my guests.  I’ve discovered that a large swath of ground isn’t needed to grow the grapes necessary for wine making – I would need less than an acre.  And last, but not least, another acre would hold my two female goats, my affectionate pets and providers of the milk for my soap and chevre (perhaps some rolled in lavender). I’ve already contemplated how I would train them to come to the back door for their morning milking.  Not much of a morning person, I picture myself milking them on the back steps with a coffee cup in one hand and the teat of a placid goat in the other (idyllic, I know, but I did say this was my DREAM).

The actual B&B would be many things – a bed a breakfast for those visiting this undiscovered slice of wine country, a small pre fixe restaurant similar to the one I saw at Rock Cottage in Ireland, a wedding and event venue, and perhaps even a home-chef cooking school.  It would also be my haven.

The response to my dream is almost always, “that will be a lot of work”.  Is it work, though, when you’re doing something you love in the place of your dreams?


1 thought on “The Dream

  1. Doing something you love is never work.
    Most people say work is something you get paid for
    … but if you love it and get paid for it,then someone should come up with a better name for it.

    My dream is to sit on a chunk of tropical beachfront property in a cabinish abode and be a bum drinking wine.
    … possibly I’m rich and eccentric too!


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