the best dream

I had the best dream this weekend.

It started with a beautiful morning, the birds were singing, the sky was brilliant blue, and a soft breeze whispered through my bedroom window. Charlie brought me a cup of coffee, just the way I like it.

I was showered with wishes, and cards, and gifts, and treats from my family and friends, and all of the selections were perfect.

I dreamed on, and some very kind grandparents came and picked up my son and took him away for a long weekend at their cabin, to play with their grandson.

My husband took me all around the town, we played tourist in our own cities. We drove through Northeast Minneapolis, and stopped for breakfast at the Ideal Diner. It only has a counter, and has been around since the 1930's. We drove on, and walked across the Stone Arch Bridge, and looked in awe at the new bridge spanning the Mississippi. We shopped at Surdyks, for cheese and salami, olives and bread, and tasted new wines.

I dreamed on-we circled the Lakes, and drove through neighborhoods full of beautiful mansions, and imagined living in them. We watched the walkers, and bikers, and sailboats on the water. We stopped in Linden Hills for handcrafted ice cream and coffee, and shopped in their little hardware store.

We arrived home, and sat in our back yard with our gourmet treats, and a special bottle of Artesa Pinot Noir, and listened to Frank Sinatra. As the sun sank towards the horizon, we agreed that yes, these are the salad days. (name that movie...)

And still, I dreamed on. We woke in the morning to another postcard day, and drank our coffee and read the Sunday paper snuggled in bed with our cat. Then we loaded up with sunscreen and sunglasses and set out on the road in our 19 year old Miata.

We traveled east, to the roads we love in Wisconsin. Funkie Gardens was our first stop, in Prescott (and if you have not been yet, you must surely do so), where I found wonderful perennials to add to my garden. We traveled on (along with about 5 million motorcycles) to Maiden Rock, where we made a stop at the Smiling Pelican bakery, and bought a crusty loaf of bread.

Lake Pepin was shimmering, and alive with sailboats, and motorboats, and fishing boats. The trains rumbled by during our stop in Stockholm, where I made a pilgrimage to my very favorite garden spot-Stockholm Gardens. The family who owns and operate it are so passionate about what they do, and it shows. I found morning glories, and my favorite oregano "Dittany of Crete".

I dreamed on, and with stomachs rumbling we pulled in to Pepin. The Harborview Cafe was our destination, and we didn't even have to wait (that is how I knew I was still dreaming....). Mike ordered morels on toast, with fresh asparagus, and I had salmon poached in parchment, with wild rice and snap peas. Words can't describe the flavors.

We left the River Road, and headed into the hills. We drove the twisty county roads, heading down into lush valleys, then climbing out of them again to the rolling farm fields. Tidy farms and red barns popped up around the corners, and the cows paused in their chewing to watch us zip by. There was much less traffic here, as so many are unaware of the pure joy of a Wisconsin county road (and that is just fine with us). The sun warmed our winter white skin, and we soaked it's rays into every pore.

We traveled on, and ended up in Hudson, where we entered the San Pedro Cafe, and bellied up to the bar, and had golden margaritas, and mango majitos, and the best chicken nachos ever.

And still, I dreamed on. We crossed the St. Croix river as the sun was setting, then jumped off and traveled the back roads, winding through the country until we made the final leg of our journey on Shepard Road. We passed the glimmering city of our hometown, with the capitol gleaming, and the cathedral pointing to the sky.

We pulled in to our own little driveway, and buttoned up the convertible top, and went inside to feed the cat.

And I pinched myself, and I wasn't asleep.