of comfort...

I know it may seem as though I’ve practically abandoned the blog, but I haven’t.
over the past few days I’ve sat here and started writing out entries. rambling along with thoughts and reflection of the past few years and all the events and fortune that has led me to anxiously waiting for the launch date for my novel. A tremendous personal achievement for any writer. (yes, that entry will most certainly come.)
but, that isn’t what really captivates me right now... today the mind drifts along to one word and what it really means to me.
Comfort.
It is something that I thought chasing the dream might bring. But not exactly something that I imagined with the dream.
I find myself sorting through memories for some kind of reference point… like postcards and snapshots of what comfort feels like.
Summer barbeques at Mylandre’s house. Small burgers from the grill served on baguettes … a certain juxtaposition of cultures that makes me smile remembering the great food, conversation, generous amounts of red wine and skinny dipping through the night after everyone else had gone to sleep. I was so much younger then and so very naive.
the subtle perfection of the almond cake at Spruce Confections in Boulder, Colorado. Sitting at their small outdoor table with the cake and a latte with my Vespa parked on the curb enjoying the quiet of a sunny foothills spring morning.
learning to make tortilla paisana in the rustic tiled kitchen of the villa in the hills above Alcala de Henares. The simplicity of the life there. The extraordinary coffee and Spanish riojas, passing the days with nothing to do but shop the local vegetable market and improve my skills at dominoes.
the bacon maple bar at Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland.
a dog… life needs a dog. I’ve been without one for well over a year. I think once the book tour is over I should seriously consider finding another one.
I think I’d actually like to take the time to relax and learn how to feel and know the comfort of home. The everyday things that I don’t think I’ve ever really managed to learn… silly stuff like; how to actually roast a chicken.
I know that three years ago my dreams seemed so big and intimidating. But, I’m not sure if I included simple comforts into the dream. I guess it’s time to redefine some of it… make the dreams a bit bigger.
learn to use that roasting pan that sits in the cupboard, untouched.