Once upon a time there lived a Princess. As with most stories that begin thus, the Princess was in love with a certain Prince. This Prince was gallant and charming, witty and debonair. He rode thoroughbred horses and read fine books in his magnificent library. He loved adventure; he loved his friends and his family; and, above all, he loved the Princess.

One day–quite out of the blue–he knelt down on one knee and asked the Princess to marry him, to be his bride, to share in all the wealth of the kingdom.

The Princess considered the proposal. She considered all she would gain, and all she would be forced to abandon.

“Dear Prince,” she said. “You know I love you with all my  heart. But there are places to explore and adventures to be had–I’m afraid I cannot accept this honor you’ve bestowed upon me.”

With that, the Prince went his way, the Princess went hers. Time passed. Yet every land the Princess explored, each art learned, the Princess longed to share it with the Prince. So she set back toward the royal kingdom.

When she returned, however, it was not at all as she had left it. Mainly, when she left, there had been no latitudinous, one-eyed, fire-breathing head bearing down upon the inhabitants of the fair land.

Obviously–and for good reason–the people were panicked. Even the armed guards had lost all hope.

“You must do something,” the Princess said. But alas, they could do nothing but stare, stricken.

The Princess stomped her foot and shook her finger at the beast. “Shame on you; you mean old, repugnant monster,” she said. The beast turned its gigantic head her direction and glared. She picked up a stone and launched it–hitting it straight between the eyes. Its eyes rolled back, its tongue rolled to the side, and down it went in a big puff of smoke.

Cheers erupted from the crowd.

“Oh Princess,” said the gatekeeper, “we paid all our gold pieces to dragon-slayers, promising to rid us of this menace. But they took our money and ran. However can we repay you for what you’ve done?”

“Well,” said the Princess thoughtfully, “I’ll take a cupcake–and the hand of the Prince.”

The Prince paid no mind that he came second to a cupcake; and the Princess, though she loved the creamy goodness of the village cupcake {they were famous throughout the land, you know}, she loved her Prince all the more. It was true love.

So it was–despite the required alotment of hardship–they lived quite happily, ever after.

THE END

But why is she trying to steal my cat? I asked. For her chop suey, they replied–as if it should have been totally clear. But I don’t care to have my cat in her next batch of chop suey! From the look on their faces, I was totally overreacting.

To add insult to injury, my particular feline must have looked particularly tasty, for she attempted the heist not once, but twice. It was positively vexing.

Needless to say, the minute The Intern walked in this morning, he was met with a dramatic I totally saved you from chop suey!

He was not impressed …

Perhaps it is time to lay off the cold medicine. Or at least, you know, avoid mixing it with Chinese food …

And once you see the world from that vantage point, it’s hard to settle back down.  From the clouds, differences blur, impossibilities seem rightly possible, and adventure beckons.  If we aren’t careful, we could very well slip off into neverland, never to be seen again.   

Then where would we be?  

For the land of fantasy is where we see all that is possible; but we must come back down to earth to get it done.  Dreams are the road maps, reality the pavement.  For this, my friends, is where the true adventure begins.  

So here’s to my fellow dreamers–those unafraid to soar on the wings of whimsy–and those who love us enough to anchor us back down …  

xoxo

I attended a Steve Eaton concert the other evening.  One song, in particular, got me—as in I was glad for the shades, for otherwise I would have been forced to blame my watery eyes on wretched allergies {which, now that I mention it, wouldn’t be that far from the truth}. 

Hey Mr. Dreamer reminded me of all us dreamers.  We’re a curious lot, you know.  We’re musicians and actors, photographers and inventors, artists and writers.  We come from all walks of life, yet we’re a lot the same.  We smile when we probably should be frowning, we experiment, rather than fail, we believe that tomorrow—tomorrow all our dreams will come true. 

In the meantime, we plod along, taking the road less traveled, following our hearts… 

And that’s what I wish for you, dear readers—dreams!  Be it night or day, I pray you’ll find the time to dream.  Start this weekend, start small if you must, but get up the courage to dream deep, dream big, and dream wide.  After all, the skies the limit … or is it?

I’m backstage at the Oscars.  At first, I’m surrounded by the cast of Twilight.  They’re getting ready to go out for an award of some type or another, when Robert Pattinson puts his arm around my shoulders.  All I could think was he was much taller and skinnier in person – and how I fit nicely under his armpit.  From there I drift to getting ready to present an award.  This had elements of real life.  One, I was petrified to walk the long expanse to the podium.  This is totally understanble.  Me, high heels, a long slender dress, a smooth walking surface and national television do not bode well.  Two, I was inwardly working myself into a dither at having to be the center of attention AND pronounce a name.  What if I couldn’t pronounce the name of the winner?  Luckily I made to the podium.  I must have paid no heed to who was up for the award, however, because the contents of the envelope came as a complete and utter shock.  And the Oscar goes to … me?  ME?!  [looking at the audience]  I won the award?  [looking at my co-presenter] I won an Oscar?  [looking at the lovely person holding said statue] Oh my … I don’t know what to say.  Is this even legal?  I didn’t think I would win since, you know, I’m presenting the award.  That’s a little awkward.  Well … okay … let’s see … I would like to thank my mom …

That’s probably about the time music cut me off.  There’s no way of knowing since – as far as I can recall – that’s where my dream ended.  Still, it’s comforting to know that even in my dreams I’m nothin’ but grace…sigh.

William Woodsworth was born April 7th, 1770 in Cockermouth, Cumberland, in the Lake District.  You may know he was a British poet, credited with ushering in the English Romantic Movement – but do you know he was the first to come up with the slogan “Just do it”?   Of course, in Woodsworth’s hand it came out as, “To begin, begin.”   Either way, it’s some good advice.  We all have dreams and aspirations, the longing of our hearts.  But sitting around thinking about them will do no good - we must meet them half way.  The only way a dream may come to fruitition is if we take that first step; we must begin.  It’s as simple and as difficult as that …

You know what they say, third time’s a charm.  But what happens when it’s not so much?  What happens when everything you put your hand to fails; when friends and family begin to question your ability?  I mean, let’s be serious.  After awhile it gets a bit embarrassing.  Not to mention discouraging.  Do you give up? 

Not Milton Hershey.  Milton S. Hershey forged ahead.  He may have been nearing thirty, and nearly bankrupt, but that didn’t stop him.  With four losses under his belt, he tried once more for a win.  Returning to Lancaster, he opened the Lancaster Caramel Company.  This time he struck gold.  His fifth business was so successful, in 1900 he was able to sell it for a whopping one-million dollars.  All so he could focus on his true passion – chocolate.  Three years later he returned to the place of his birth to open a new chocolate factory.  And the rest, as they say, is history …

So next time we go to drown our defeat in a large vat of Hershey’s chocolate, let us think of the man behind the bar.  A man who refused to let his dream die, despite one setback after another.  A  man who learned from trial and error so that every man might be able to enjoy the smooth, creamy goodness of milk chocolate.  A man who used his wealth to build a thriving town, all because he believed his employees deserved better.  A man who thought up the “Great building compaign” to add beauty – and countless jobs – during The Great Depression.  A man who, though no children of his own, left an ever-growing legacy through schools and educational grants.  A man who proves to us still today, that hard work and perseverance have a funny way of turning life’s bitter disappointments to sweet success.