Joie de Vivre (or Something Like That) Apr 19, 2017 21:29:10 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Apr 19, 2017 21:29:10 GMT -6
With a long inhale, Winnie opened her eyes and looked up at her white ceiling. The same old cracks seemed a slight bit longer than they were yesterday morning. Whatever the people in the flat above her were doing she did not want to know, nor did she want the ceiling to fall in. This was London, but that didn't mean that she couldn't necessarily make a quick fix, right? She contemplated the thought, but her stomach grumbled and her prerogative shifted.
Slowly sauntering out of bed, she slipped on her slippers, her kimono, and then walked out into the shared living space. The flat she shared with one of her best mates was still rather quiet. 'He must not be up yet, or perhaps he's hiding away in his room.' She couldn't blame him if he was. The sun on this springtime Saturday was shining, warmly bleeding through the thin white curtains to give their modest flat a warm glow. Winnie smiled at the sight of such, rubbed her eyes, and put on a pot to boil for some tea. Tea first, always tea.
She checked out the pantry and started to prepare some french toast. Slow mornings were always accompanied by an attempt to make delicious breakfast (depending on the meal, it was about 70/30 in her favor), a cuppa, and some reading of some sort (along with the general cooing to her houseplants that sat on nearly every surface in her room, on bookshelves in the shared living space, on empty cupboard spaces in the kitchen, and hanging from the ceiling (in hopes that the ceiling wouldn't crack with the weight of a modest hanging basket). And who could blame her for showing her plants affection? She didn't currently have a pet, so her little babies were her plants. She just couldn't get enough. And good thing too, being as she was a herbologist and all.
At this point, she had finished dipping and was now flipping the battered brioche in the pan. Upon the first flip, she frowned and bit her lip; a little too hot of a pan on that one. The first pieces were always more of the tester pieces anyways. Plus, her stomach could handle a little char. Syrup and preserves healed all imperfections where that was concerned. She flipped her first two pieces onto a plate and threw on the next two. She could probably consume three or four (thank goodness for a speedy metabolism), but she figured that, if Elan was awake,it would be nice to make him some too. Could he eat as much as she could? Debatable. But just in case, Winn cut up a few more pieces, soaked them in the batter as they waited in the figurative queue for cook time.
As she went about making her scrumptious and sweet breakfast, she let her mind wander. Did the French really make french toast, or was that some culinary invention made up by someone who was inspired by the French? What was the weather like in France? She could only assume that with as much as romance was connected with France, they had to have lazy Saturday mornings like this. There was no way they could be missing out on something as sweet as this. She was positive over half of the love poems were written about days like this.
Naturally, as Winnie thought about all of these things, another thought popped into her head. Traveling. She hadn't been in such a long time. As in, out of the British Isles and onto mainland Europe. Well, come to think of that, she hadn't visited any other part of Europe. Yet she had been to Peru... how had she not seen anymore of the continent in which she belonged? That needed to be put to rest. The only way to solve that was obviously to travel to other parts of Europe. And with Paris on her mind, France sounded like an excellent choice.
All of a sudden, a whirlwind of options came to mind. Who would she bring with her? Or would she prefer to go alone? Where would she go? Just Paris? Or perhaps Lyon, Marseilles, Toulouse? Maybe small country towns that appeared as dots on the map, so as to get a true sense of what the French countryside really looked like. And just imagine the wine, the cheese, the bread, the chocolate! She would obviously have to figure out if they actually had french toast or not, too.
Winnie stopped short when she remembered she had a greenhouse to run. It wouldn't suffer too badly if she took a week off would it? She could always charm the pots to water her plants on time for her, too, so they wouldn't dry out. And open up the roof panes to let the optimal amount of sun in for the majority of the plants, and rearrange the others so as to make sure they didn't burn. This could definitely still happen. Her spirits rose at the thought of France being an option again. Running your own business could be unrelenting and unforgiving at times, and it was definitely emotionally and physically taxing, but there were some benefits, like being able to decide when you wanted to take a vacation, if you ever chose to. It had been ages since she'd really done anything for herself, especially where travel was concerned. But today, on this beautiful Saturday morning, as she flipped the last piece of french toast between the two of them onto the plate with a tower full of brioche french toast already on it, Winnie decided to treat herself. Good food and adventures made her world go round.
And plants too, of course.