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Ask anyone who knows me to describe me in a few words, and I'd guarantee at least someone would use the word "dreamer". I've dreamed about my future from a young age...dreamed about plans I'd make, places I'd go, things I'd make, and people I'd do it all with.
I'm always inspired by season changes. I thrive on change and just when I've had enough of one season, another comes in and gives me new things to be excited about every year. I'm inspired to cook differently and try new recipes. I'm inspired by new fashion trends (although I usually catch on four seasons too late). I'm inspired by the colors, and smells, and feel of the air. Michael laughs every time I bring this up, but I keep dreaming up this grand picnic for him to take me on. I've been telling him that's what I've wanted since we were teenagers, but for some reason it just hasn't happened yet. I'm still holding out hope.
In the summer, this picnic looks a lot like a beautiful quilt, sandwiches and fruit, infused water, and me wearing a cute summer dress. In the fall, it looks like plaid, extra blankets to snuggle under, a campfire until midnight, mulled wine, and a warm bowl of chunky soup.
I'll keep dreaming, although I have learned that sometimes expectations don't get you anywhere. Sometimes you've got to gather up the blankets and the wine and start the fire yourself and invite him to come along. And even if he isn't the one to initiate it all, I have a feeling it could still be a pretty good time.