Speaker 1: Welcome to Bedtime Stories for grown ups, in which nothing
Speaker 1: much happens, you feel good, and then you fall asleep.
Speaker 1: All stories are written and read by me Catherin Nikolay,
Speaker 1: with audio engineering by Bob Wittersheim. We only have a
Speaker 1: few stories left in this our first season of nothing
Speaker 1: Much Happens, so be sure to subscribe now so you
Speaker 1: don't miss a single episode of our next season, which
Speaker 1: will come out in the fall of this year. I
Speaker 1: have so many stories to tell you about walks through
Speaker 1: apple orchards and breathing crisp autumn air and roasting pumpkin seeds,
Speaker 1: stories about Thanksgiving leftovers and watching the snowfall and twinkle
Speaker 1: lights by the fire. If you enjoy our stories, please
Speaker 1: share them any way you can with anyone you know
Speaker 1: who likes relaxation and good sleep, and follow us on
Speaker 1: Facebook and Instagram for some extra coziness. Now let me
Speaker 1: say a bit about how to use this podcast. I'm
Speaker 1: about to tell you a bedtime story, and the story
Speaker 1: is like a soft landing spot for your mind. Rather
Speaker 1: than letting your brain race through the same thoughts that
Speaker 1: you've been chasing all day, we are taking a detour
Speaker 1: to a calm and cozy place. I'll tell the story twice,
Speaker 1: and I'll go a bit slower the second time through.
Speaker 1: If you find that you are still awake at the
Speaker 1: end of the second telling, not to worry. That's just fine.
Speaker 1: Just walk yourself back through any of the details you remember,
Speaker 1: and before you know it, you'll be waking up tomorrow
Speaker 1: feeling relaxed and refreshed. This is a kind of brain training,
Speaker 1: and the more you do it, the faster you will
Speaker 1: fall asleep, So be patient if you are new to this.
Speaker 1: Now it's time to turn off the light, take one
Speaker 1: last sip of water, and snuggle down into your favorite
Speaker 1: sleeping position. Get your pillow in the perfect spot, and
Speaker 1: take a slow, deep breath in through your nose and
Speaker 1: out through your mouth. Nice. Do that one more time,
Speaker 1: Breathe in and out. Good. Our story tonight is called
Speaker 1: Summer Vacation, and it's a story about the feeling of
Speaker 1: freedom and having lots of time ahead of you to
Speaker 1: do what you like. It's also about planning sweet things
Speaker 1: with someone special, the fresh harvest of late summer, and
Speaker 1: enjoying the sights along the way. We rolled the windows
Speaker 1: down and stuck our arms out into the sunshine. We
Speaker 1: had a whole week of vacation ahead of us, whole
Speaker 1: week by the water in a little rented cottage with
Speaker 1: a porch swing and a big soft bed. We were
Speaker 1: looking forward to good meals, sleeping, late, laziness, and the beach.
Speaker 1: We'd gotten up early, excited to start, but then remembering
Speaker 1: that we were on vacation and didn't need to rush.
Speaker 1: We'd laid in bed and sipped our coffees and made
Speaker 1: plans for a week of doing whatever we wanted. Finally,
Speaker 1: in the mid morning, we'd loaded our beach chairs and
Speaker 1: coolers into the car and started out. The weather was fair,
Speaker 1: with bright blue skies and temperatures in the low eighties.
Speaker 1: We found some music to sing along to, and I,
Speaker 1: in the passenger seat, leaned back and watched the scenery
Speaker 1: roll by. We took back roads mostly I took a
Speaker 1: little longer, but it was prettier and we were in
Speaker 1: no hurry. We passed through little down towns nosily, looked
Speaker 1: into the store windows and made up stories about the
Speaker 1: people in line at the bakery were stepping out of
Speaker 1: the post office. We drove past farms, the crops high
Speaker 1: in the summer sun, and saw old red barns crumbling
Speaker 1: and falling over in the fields. They looked like shipwrecks
Speaker 1: in the pristine pastures, and I wondered what they had
Speaker 1: looked like when they were first built, and who the
Speaker 1: people were who had built them. We pointed out horses
Speaker 1: running in a paddock, cows grazing on the top of
Speaker 1: a hill, and cranes balancing on their stick thin legs
Speaker 1: in ponds and marshes. We stopped in a familiar diner
Speaker 1: for lunch. I think we'd been here the year before.
Speaker 1: We ate sandwiches and looked out of the windows at
Speaker 1: the cars going by, then ordered pieces of pie and
Speaker 1: more coffee, and finally got back on the road. We
Speaker 1: were getting closer now and caught glimpses of water through
Speaker 1: the trees. We eagerly leaned our heads out of the
Speaker 1: windows and took deep breaths and turned to each other
Speaker 1: to say, can you smell the lake? There was a
Speaker 1: farm market on a corner, and we pulled in to
Speaker 1: see what was fresh. We'd packed some food for the week,
Speaker 1: but mostly just things like coffee, beans and veggie burgers
Speaker 1: and a shocking amount of licorice. We knew that the
Speaker 1: local fruit and vegetables would be better than the supermarket fair,
Speaker 1: so now we stalked up. We bought baskets of fresh
Speaker 1: tomatoes and a dozen years of corn. They had ripe
Speaker 1: peaches that you could smell as soon as you got
Speaker 1: out of the car red potatoes that were still dusty
Speaker 1: from the field, and a giant cabbage as big around
Speaker 1: as a cannon ball. We bought cucumbers for salads, and
Speaker 1: asparagus for the grill, and ripe cantelope and strawberries for snacks.
Speaker 1: They had fresh herbs bundled and tied with twine, rosemary, basil, thyme, chives,
Speaker 1: and a nosegay of lavender, which I added to my
Speaker 1: basket just because it smelled good. They had a few
Speaker 1: loaves of home baked bread and jars of jams and salsas.
Speaker 1: There was a whole table of pickled things, and my
Speaker 1: mouth watered as I stood in front of it, reading
Speaker 1: labels crunchy dill pickles, sweet bread and butter pickles, and
Speaker 1: spicy pickled cauliflower and okra. They had sacks of roasted
Speaker 1: nuts and toasted sunflower seeds. We bought a lot and
Speaker 1: gossiped with the owner for a while. Then we were
Speaker 1: back in the car, and after a day of lazy boondoggling,
Speaker 1: we were suddenly anxious to get to our little cottage.
Speaker 1: The gravel crackled under our tires as we pulled into
Speaker 1: the drive, and we left everything behind us in the
Speaker 1: car and rushed to see the view, catching each other's hands.
Speaker 1: We stood by the lake for a while, just smelling
Speaker 1: the fresh water and listening to the birds calling to
Speaker 1: each other. We strolled around the yard, noticing the flowers
Speaker 1: and the hostas, whose wide ridged leaves still held due
Speaker 1: from the night before. I spotted a patch of black
Speaker 1: eyed Susans and planned to come out later with the
Speaker 1: kitchen scissors to make a bouquet for our bedside. There
Speaker 1: were a couple old bikes with dusty seats but full tires,
Speaker 1: leaned up against a shed. We found the key under
Speaker 1: a flower pot and unlocked the door. The place was
Speaker 1: small and sweet, and we opened the windows and let
Speaker 1: the fresh air in. We poked around, moving from room
Speaker 1: to room. There was a stack of puzzles and board games,
Speaker 1: and a few decks of weathered cards. There were funny
Speaker 1: old pictures on the walls, and the cupboards held a
Speaker 1: varied collection of mismatched cup and plates from fifty plus
Speaker 1: years of meals. We loved it. The bags came in,
Speaker 1: the coolers were emptied into the fridge, and the peaches
Speaker 1: were tipped into an old chip bowl on the table.
Speaker 1: What now, whatever we like? A cold beer, a mystery novel.
Speaker 1: There's a hammock under that tree. It looks big enough
Speaker 1: for two. Let's do that. We rolled the windows down
Speaker 1: and stuck our arms out into the sunshine. We had
Speaker 1: a whole week of vacation ahead of us, a whole
Speaker 1: week by the water in a little rented cottage with
Speaker 1: a porch swing and a big soft bed. We were
Speaker 1: looking forward to good meals, sleeping, late laziness, and the beach.
Speaker 1: We've gotten up early, excited to start, but then remembering
Speaker 1: that we were on vacation and didn't need to rush.
Speaker 1: We'd lay in bed and sipped our coffees and made
Speaker 1: plans for a week of doing whatever we wanted. Finally,
Speaker 1: in the mid morning, we'd loaded our beach chairs and
Speaker 1: coolers into the car and started out. The weather was fair,
Speaker 1: with bright blue skies and temperatures in the low eighties.
Speaker 1: We found some music to sing along too, and I
Speaker 1: in the passenger seat, leaned back and watched the scenery
Speaker 1: roll by. We took back roads mostly. It took a
Speaker 1: little longer, but it was prettier and we were in
Speaker 1: no hurry. We passed through little downtowns nosily, looked into
Speaker 1: the store windows and made up stories about the people
Speaker 1: in line at the bakery or stepping out of the
Speaker 1: post office. We drove past farms, the crops high in
Speaker 1: the summer sun, and saw old red barns crumbling and
Speaker 1: falling over in the fields. They looked like shipwrecks in
Speaker 1: the pristine pastures, and I wondered what they had looked
Speaker 1: like when they were first built, and who the people
Speaker 1: were who had built them. We pointed out horses running
Speaker 1: in a paddock, cows grazing on the top of a hill,
Speaker 1: and cranes balancing on their stick thin legs in ponds
Speaker 1: and marshes. We stopped in a familiar diner for lunch.
Speaker 1: I think we'd been here the year before. We ate
Speaker 1: sandwiches and looked out of the windows the cars going by.
Speaker 1: Then ordered pieces of pie and more coffee, and finally
Speaker 1: got back on the road. We were getting closer now
Speaker 1: and caught glimpses of water through the trees. We eagerly
Speaker 1: leaned our heads out of the windows and took deep
Speaker 1: breaths and turned to each other to say, can you
Speaker 1: smell the lake? There was a farm market on a corner,
Speaker 1: and we pulled in to see what was fresh. We'd
Speaker 1: packed some food for the week, but mostly just things
Speaker 1: like coffee beans and veggie burgers, and a shocking amount
Speaker 1: of liquorice. We knew that the local fruit and vegetables
Speaker 1: would be better than the supermarket fair, so we stalked up.
Speaker 1: We bought baskets of fresh tomatoes and a dozen years
Speaker 1: of corn. They had ripe peaches that you could smell
Speaker 1: as soon as you got out of the car red
Speaker 1: potatoes that were still dusty from the field, and a
Speaker 1: giant cabbage as big around as a cannon ball. We
Speaker 1: bought cucumbers for salads, and asparagus for the grill, and
Speaker 1: ripe cantaloupes and strawberries for snacks. They had fresh herbs
Speaker 1: bundled and tied with twine, rosemary, basil, thyme, chives, and
Speaker 1: a nosegay of lavender, which I added to my basket
Speaker 1: just because it smelled so good. They had a few
Speaker 1: loaves of home baked bread and jars of jams and salsas.
Speaker 1: There was a whole table of pickled things, and my
Speaker 1: mouth watered as I stood in to fit, reading labels
Speaker 1: crunchy dill pickles, sweet bread and butter pickles, and spicy
Speaker 1: pickled cauliflower and okrah. They had secs of roasted nuts
Speaker 1: and toasted sunflower seeds. We bought a lot and gossiped
Speaker 1: with the owner for a while. Then we were back
Speaker 1: in the car, and after a day of lazy boondoggling,
Speaker 1: we were suddenly anxious to get to our little cottage.
Speaker 1: The gravel crackled under our tires as we pulled into
Speaker 1: the drive, and we left everything behind us in the
Speaker 1: car and rushed to see the view, catching each other's hands.
Speaker 1: We stood by the lake for ah, just smelling the
Speaker 1: fresh water and listening to the birds calling to each other.
Speaker 1: We strolled around the yard, noticing the flowers and the hostas,
Speaker 1: whose wide ridged leaves still held dew from the night before.
Speaker 1: I spotted a patch of black eyed Susans and planned
Speaker 1: to come out later with the kitchen scissors to make
Speaker 1: a bouquet for our bedside. There were a couple old
Speaker 1: bikes with dusty seats but full tires, leaned up against
Speaker 1: a shed. We found the key under a flower pot
Speaker 1: and unlocked the door. The place was small and sweet,
Speaker 1: and we opened the windows and let the fresh air in.
Speaker 1: We poked around, moving from room to room. There was
Speaker 1: a stack of puzzles and board games, and a few
Speaker 1: decks of weathered cards. There were funny old pictures on
Speaker 1: the walls, and the cupboards held a varied collection of
Speaker 1: mismatched cups and plates from fifty plus years of meals.
Speaker 1: We loved it. The bags came in, the coolers were
Speaker 1: emptied into the fridge, and the peaches were tipped into
Speaker 1: an old, chipped bowl on the table. What now, whatever?
Speaker 1: We like a cold beer, a mystery novel. There's a
Speaker 1: hammock under that tree. It looks big enough for two.
Speaker 1: Let's do that, sweet e