dream

The Whodunnit Dream

I think she was a country singer. I really didn’t know anything about her, except that she was a real southern lady- generous, hospitable and kind… and that I was a guest in her large southern home. They had found her lifeless that morning, the workers of her estate. It just didn’t add up. Who would want to kill such a wonderful woman? Well it seemed, as her houseguest, I should at least look for clues. I felt like I owed that to her. The home was full of dark wood walls and carvings, the very height of fashion about fifty years ago when it was built. It had felt so warm and full of life just last night. Now, it all seemed dated and cold, like artifacts in a museum. As I went into her bedroom, nothing seemed mysterious or out of place. But wait, why was there a red handprint on top of that bookshelf? It seemed like a print left behind from a cheaply dyed glove that had gotten wet. Could that be evidence left from the killer? (Cue the music: dun dun dun) All of the sudden, I got an uneasy feeling that I wasn’t alone. Was it possible the killer had come back to the scene of the crime to tie up loose ends? Just then, I heard the hallway door start to close. I knew it was the murderer, and I couldn’t let them get away! I reached out my hand to grab the suspect, but all I got was a cold hand as they tried to push the door shut. I felt her long sharp nails as she pulled away and ran. It was too late. She was gone.

Later in the day, I had gathered my things to leave. It didn’t seem right to stay. I wanted to help, but I really didn’t have much to go on and couldn’t imagine getting another opportunity. It was driving me crazy. Who was that woman and why would she do it? It was day one, and already everyone had given up on a search for any suspects or reasons why. But I just couldn’t. I still had time. There was a large gathering in a room outside of my door. They were employees, friends and family who had assembled to process their grief and remember a special lady. I went out into the room and struck up a conversation with a woman with short, red, curly hair, sitting alone in the corner on a built in bench. Her name was Trixie. And I couldn’t help but notice the detailed flowers painted on her very long nails. As the conversation went along, I just came out with it. “Why did you do it? I asked. 

“Do what?”

“Why did you kill her?” I grabbed her hand to look for stains leftover from cheap gloves, like the print on the bookcase. I wanted to catch her red handed. But, when looked at her palms they were clean. Darn! She must have washed them. As she pulled her hand away, there was no denying that scratch, the very same one I felt in the hallway. She was the culprit! But how could they convict anyone with so little evidence? Nails weren’t enough, I’d have to get a confession.

“I didn’t,” she replied. 

She was going to be tough to crack. “Was it because of her boyfriend?” I prodded.

“She had a boyfriend?” she retorted.

“I don’t know.” I had to admit. “I was just trying to get a motive.” I could tell this was going nowhere. “Well, I have no proof and no evidence. No one, would believe me anyway. Why don’t you just tell me why? I really just want to know. I won’t tell anyone.” I declared.

“I did love her boyfriend” admitted Trixie.

“So it was you! I knew it!” I said with satisfaction. But she had trusted me and my vow, I couldn’t turn her in now. I quickly thought it over. Surely, this was an isolated incident. It was a crime of passion, not to be duplicated… and besides, it was done. But (I reasoned with myself), what if she did strike again? How could I ever live with myself, knowing I had let a murderer go free? “I’m sorry, I lied to you” I said as I grabbed her and held her toward the large assembly in the room. “It was Trixie!” I stated loudly to everyone, realizing that I didn’t know her last name. “Trixie… “ I said again in such a lingering way as to let everyone know that I needed help filling in the blank. As I looked around the faces in the room, it was evident nobody else knew her last name either. “No one knows her last name?” I questioned. The room stayed quiet as I tried to meet all of their eyes one by one. A few people swiveled their heads from side to side indicating they did not. Awkward. At least I had the villain in hand, or did I? I looked down in my arms to realize I wasn’t actually holding Trixie, but a bag of pita chips. How did she escape? That slippery scoundrel! I caught her out of the corner of my eye making an escape out the front door. I quickly darted after her. I couldn’t let her get away again! Of course, it was raining outside as I gave chase. Naturally, I wasn’t wearing shoes… so I braced myself for the cold wet plunge as I lunged at her. And that was it. I had her in custody and the police would be coming to take her away soon. (I assume.)

That was when I woke up. My son was calling my name from his bunk bed on the other end of the camper. His mosquito bites were itching and driving him nuts. And since I was up, I figured I might as well jot down the caper.

Ben & Jerry’s gives me the weirdest dreams…

It had been raining all night, and my feet were cold since they had come uncovered. But the pita chips? That was a mystery.

The end.

Loving Lately ?

This week I am seriously loving my new B&B. It’s perfect; charming, cozy and inviting. The warm seasonal fruit muffins are fresh from the oven and ready to serve. Owen is stoking the fire in the idyllically welcoming front lobby… It’s all in my head of course; my new dream.

It’s a natural transition really. If you’ve followed me for any length of time you know that I’ve long yearned for a café and small farm. Except, I don’t think I do anymore; one of those “unanswered prayers” type of things. In reality, I’m much more of a homebody. A café is a real commitment! Maybe, just maybe, something like this coffee station from In Your Back Pocket is more my pace?

I’ve really got this desire that won’t go away… So I’ve been scouring the internet for articles on starting a Bed and Breakfast, a dog with a bone I am. And I came along a great piece from entrepreneur.com (also responsible for my lovely featured image) that includes some great start up ideas. Oh, and I am deep into fantasy land. Look at how cute these welcoming baskets are from embellishedweddings.com!

Some people pay so much attention to the details! These signs from The House of Smiths Designs are over-the-top.

I know you’re thinking, “Sadie, you hate to do laundry!” That’s true. But in my defense, towels and sheets are the first things I tackle on laundry day. (They’re the easiest to put away!) And I’m in dream mode right now… So let’s just focus on fun things like all of the sunshine pouring into this dining room found at bedandbreakfast.com.

And these ridiculously cute Mini Dutch Babies with Lemon Curd and Blueberries from Nerds with Knives.

Can you imagine how great it would be to serve those at my B&B? I would be beaming! …And I could stock a little community refrigerator for my guests to help themselves… it might look something like this from Live Simply by Annie:

Honestly, I think my chickens would just add to the charm. And obviously the eggs would be useful… this photo by Dreams Gather Here explains it all.

A delicious breakfast is a given… but equally important is the comfort of my guests. For the “bed” part of “bed and breakfast”, theBERRY.com has some really good ideas. I mean, I’d want to sleep here:

And who wouldn’t want to relax and enjoy a good soak in this tub captured by ollebosse?

Food for thought: Perhaps “Sadie’s Nest” is not just the name of my blog?

Please excuse me while I think about that all day.

Loving Lately

It’s the middle of January in Southeast Michigan and we’ve traded in our usual snowfall for a grey, cold and blustery thunderstorm. That can only mean one thing: staying cozy. Who doesn’t love staying cozy? (And thank you anonymous for capturing the essence of my indoor warmth while the world is wet outside.) I won’t pretend being a stay-at-home mom is an easy job, but it does allot me this: the opportunity to stay in my pajamas and ridiculously oversized socks. I’ll take it. Am I turning my back on the mounting laundry and stack of dishes to blog? Yes. I am also daydreaming about my perfect kitchen. It might look something like this from French Garden House:

Or this from loombrand.com:

I love the simple French charm of the first, but I’m kind of Bohemian at heart.

And speaking of hearts, Valentine’s Day is right around the corner. So naturally I have to gather ideas for the holiday. How cute are this donuts from Frau Zuckerstein? Ich spreche kein Deutsch, aber ich danke Ihnen Frau Zuckerstein!

 

But really, before I can get to Valentine’s Day, I have to get to my daughter’s birthday. She’s feeling the “Shopkins” theme this year. Nothing screams “Shopkins” like Chuck E. Cheese. Er, wait. Don’t worry about it, I’ll figure it out. It would just be easier if the person who made these cookies lived next-door. I would love to know you, My Girls Lolly Bouquets.

In other news, I made Pork Schnitzel with a Beer-Mustard Sauce last night. So, I can scratch that off the bucket list. I really think I got the whole schnitzel thing right out of my system. That’s a lot of pounding. I might be a wimp, but my arm is sore. And if I may… just pan fry those pork chops.

But I have to try things, it’s just my nature; like this “Life-Changing 30 Masala Sauce” from Pinch of Yum. I love Indian food. And in 30 minutes? Yes! And why is it “life-changing”? I HAVE to know!

If that’s not your thing, here’s one for you: Sticky Apple Cider BBQ Chicken from How Sweet Eats. Yeah baby, put it on the list.

And how fun would it be to eat that food in this kitchen from ink361.com?

Let’s just think about that on a day like today. Because outside it’s like this:

(Thanks for the pic Zeutch.com) And we need to stay cozy… even if it’s a state of mind.

i want

i want a calgon take me away bath moment. except I don’t want artificial bubbles. and i want it in a porcelain tub with iron clawed feet. i’d like it to be on a carrera marble floor bathroom, the kind i pinterest. i want freshly cut hydrangeas of purple pink and blue around the room and a large picture window overlooking a sand and grass landscape that fades into the ocean. i want to live the instagram life of @helloemilie for a day, maybe three, because it looks like the best beach version of an anthropology catalog. i want david chang to make me noodles for dinner. and then i want a chocolat chaud from le notre in paris. when i come home i want my freshly bathed kids to give me a hug and a kiss before they go to bed on a night that they sleep through ’til morning. when i wake up i want a leprechaun sized barista living in my kitchen cupboard. thank you

Dream A Little Dream

I have a dream that when I look back at old posts I see the aspiring writer I think I am. I dream that when I am trying to revamp an old hobby, and accidentally repost old blog posts, they are full of profound wisdom and beautifully articulated ideas.

A girl can dream.