Speaker 1: Welcome to Bedtime Stories for Everyone, in which nothing much happens,
Speaker 1: you feel good, and then you fall asleep. I'm Catherine Nikolay.
Speaker 1: I create everything you hear on Nothing Much happens. Audio
Speaker 1: Engineering is by Bob Wittersheim. We're excited to do something
Speaker 1: new in twenty twenty three on the podcast will be
Speaker 1: donating to a different charity with every single episode. Your
Speaker 1: support and that includes sharing the show with others, rating
Speaker 1: and reviewing, and listening to ads helps us to do that,
Speaker 1: So thank you. This week, in honor of the protagonist
Speaker 1: of our story, the bookshop owner, we're donating to bookaid
Speaker 1: dot org, who is helping to make quote a world
Speaker 1: where everyone has access to books that will enrich, improve
Speaker 1: and change their lives. Find a link to them in
Speaker 1: the show notes. Now, your brain needs a place to rest,
Speaker 1: story with just enough in it to carry you off
Speaker 1: to dreamland, but not to keep you up. And that's
Speaker 1: what I specialize in. So just follow along with the
Speaker 1: sound of my voice and know that we are right
Speaker 1: now training your brain to have a reliable response and
Speaker 1: that it will only improve with time and practice. I'll
Speaker 1: tell a story twice, and I'll go a bit slower
Speaker 1: on the second read through. If you wake later in
Speaker 1: the night, don't hesitate to turn a story right back on,
Speaker 1: or just think through any detail from the story that
Speaker 1: you can remember. Now lights out, campers, find the right pillow,
Speaker 1: get into your favorite sleeping position, and let your whole
Speaker 1: body relax. Whatever today was like is what today was like.
Speaker 1: It's over now, and there's nothing left to do but rest.
Speaker 1: Take a slow breath in through your nose and sigh
Speaker 1: it out again. All the way in and out was
Speaker 1: sound good. Our story tonight is called Winter Getaway Part
Speaker 1: two or The Chalet, and it's a story about an
Speaker 1: abundance of time to do nothing with. It's also about
Speaker 1: a steaming bathtub, catching a moment with all of your senses,
Speaker 1: and a way to say I love you. Winter Getaway
Speaker 1: Part two or the Chalet. For the first day or two,
Speaker 1: I didn't leave my little cabin. I went to bed
Speaker 1: early and slept late. It felt so wonderful and absolutely necessary.
Speaker 1: When I finally got out of bed in the mornings,
Speaker 1: I turn on the gas fireplace and brew a pot
Speaker 1: of coffee and climb right back into bed with a cup.
Speaker 1: Sometimes I read. Sometimes I just stared out the front
Speaker 1: window and looked at the mountain. Chef kept my little
Speaker 1: kitchenette stocked with pastries and fruit for breakfast, which again
Speaker 1: I ate in bed. I took long, steaming hot baths
Speaker 1: in the claw foot tub. I listen to music and read.
Speaker 1: When I got hungry, I ordered room service, which was
Speaker 1: brought and covered dishes all the way from the hotel,
Speaker 1: up the finicular and to my door. I changed from
Speaker 1: one pair of pajamas into another and just enjoyed the
Speaker 1: quiet and solitude. My friend who had invited me here,
Speaker 1: the chaff who had been sending down pastries from their kitchen,
Speaker 1: had given me space, knowing that I needed rest more
Speaker 1: than company. They'd invited me for dinner when I was
Speaker 1: up to it, or a snowshoe along some of the
Speaker 1: gentler paths. What a gift. Friends like that are the
Speaker 1: kind that you don't have to explain yourself to, who
Speaker 1: take you as you are and want your own well
Speaker 1: being as much as you do. It reminded me of
Speaker 1: the way Italians say I love you. They have a
Speaker 1: romantic way and a platonic way of expressing it. The
Speaker 1: platonic way simply said I want you to be well
Speaker 1: Tivoglio bene. Chef wanted me to be well, and it
Speaker 1: felt very good to be loved by friend like that.
Speaker 1: Today I had an urge to finally step out of
Speaker 1: my little sanctuary and explore a bit. There wasn't a skier,
Speaker 1: though I'd enjoyed watching the brave souls on the mountain
Speaker 1: cutting through the fresh powder each day. I thought today
Speaker 1: I might prefer to bundle up and take the funicular
Speaker 1: down to the hotel, poke around through their shops and lobby,
Speaker 1: and see if Chef would make me a tasty dinner
Speaker 1: in their restaurant. The resort made its own fresh snow
Speaker 1: each day to make the skiing and snowboarding as good
Speaker 1: as it could be. But mother nature had been no
Speaker 1: slouch in that department either. There was a solid foot
Speaker 1: and a half on the ground around my cabin, and
Speaker 1: more falling by the minute. I layered on my thermals,
Speaker 1: powder pants, heavy coat and boots and stepped out the door.
Speaker 1: The funicular traveled up and down the mountains every few minutes,
Speaker 1: so I only had to wait a minute on the platform,
Speaker 1: and while I dead, I looked across the slopes and
Speaker 1: saw more cabins and groves of trees. On the other side,
Speaker 1: people were riding ski lifts up into the sky, their
Speaker 1: skis dangling in the air, and I thought the whole
Speaker 1: endeavor must be exhilarating. Just standing here in the cold air,
Speaker 1: I felt energized and awake in a way I hadn't
Speaker 1: been quite a while. The funicular arrived in front of me,
Speaker 1: and I realized that the tracks didn't stop at my
Speaker 1: little platform. They went further up the mountain, and I
Speaker 1: suddenly decided I wanted to go up rather than down.
Speaker 1: I stepped inside and sat down on a cushioned bench.
Speaker 1: I'd always wanted to take one of those winter train
Speaker 1: trips where the tracks wind through snowy landscapes while tea
Speaker 1: is served in fancy cups in the dining car, and
Speaker 1: this was close. It was only a few minutes ride
Speaker 1: up the mountain, but it was an extraordinary view, and
Speaker 1: I had the presence of mind to really take it
Speaker 1: all in. Sometimes life happened so fast I felt like
Speaker 1: I missed the details, and maybe this was one of
Speaker 1: the reasons I loved to read. I could take in
Speaker 1: each scene as slowly as I liked reread. Favorite passages
Speaker 1: change moods by flipping to a different chapter. Now I
Speaker 1: realized I was in a beautiful verse that I would
Speaker 1: want to reread, so I kept my eyes open. I
Speaker 1: noticed the way the snow flakes landed on the window,
Speaker 1: how there was a split second while they were intact,
Speaker 1: and I could see their tiny symmetrical patterns before they
Speaker 1: seemed to go out of focus. I turned blurry and melted,
Speaker 1: and we're gone. I caught my own reflection in the
Speaker 1: glass and looked through it to the sloping land all
Speaker 1: around me. I smiled at that, don't we often look
Speaker 1: through ourselves when we look out, a layer of self
Speaker 1: imperceptibly shading the view. The funicular bumped to a stop.
Speaker 1: The door slid open, and the true, unimpeded view of
Speaker 1: the mountains was even sweeter. I stepped out to find
Speaker 1: a building with broad, overhanging eaves and a tall stone chimney,
Speaker 1: wood smoke rising from it. I'd felt a few times
Speaker 1: here that I was in a fairy tale, and this
Speaker 1: seemed to cement the idea. Here was a real life chalet,
Speaker 1: and I wondered if the funicular had somehow delivered me
Speaker 1: and a split second to the Alps There was a
Speaker 1: broad stone patio wrapping around the chalet, a fire pit
Speaker 1: roaring in the center, and small tables with a few
Speaker 1: bundled up guests sitting here and there. I wandered up
Speaker 1: to the door and stepped through. I hadn't felt cold,
Speaker 1: but my cheeks burned as the warm are circled around me.
Speaker 1: The place was a long, open room with a giant
Speaker 1: fireplace along one wall. Deep chairs were pulled up around it,
Speaker 1: and people were sitting with drinks in their hands, looking
Speaker 1: out the floor to ceiling windows at the slopes. Across
Speaker 1: from the fire was a long bar. When I could
Speaker 1: hear the hiss of an espresso machine, I unsnapped the
Speaker 1: neck of my coat and pulled away my scarf. As
Speaker 1: I stepped up to the bar, I thought I might
Speaker 1: want to stay awhile. I asked the bar tender if
Speaker 1: they had hot tea, and she stepped away for a
Speaker 1: moment and brought back a large wicker basket, which she
Speaker 1: set before me. As she opened it, it was divided
Speaker 1: into twenty or more little cubbies, each with a canister
Speaker 1: of loose leaf tea nestled inside. I practically clapped my
Speaker 1: hands in excitement as I read the labels. Mint in
Speaker 1: the winter always felt like a natural choice, and I
Speaker 1: was reaching for it when the bartender leaned in and
Speaker 1: tapped her finger against a different flavor. I read the
Speaker 1: label orange blossoms, rose petals, and silver needle tea. Do
Speaker 1: you think, I said. She just nodded and watched and
Speaker 1: waited for me to nod back. When I did, she
Speaker 1: smiled and swept the box away to set me up
Speaker 1: with a pot and a cup. I thought for a
Speaker 1: moment that I wished I'd brought my book, but maybe
Speaker 1: this was even better. I'd take in every detail my
Speaker 1: senses could show me as if I were writing this
Speaker 1: moment down in a story. Winter Getaway Part two or
Speaker 1: the Chalet were the first day or two I didn't
Speaker 1: leave my cabin. I went to bed early and slept late.
Speaker 1: It felt so wonderful and absolutely necessary. When I finally
Speaker 1: got out of bed in the mornings, I'd turn on
Speaker 1: the gas fireplace and brew a pot of coffee and
Speaker 1: climb right back into bed with a cup. Sometimes I read.
Speaker 1: Sometimes I just stared out the front window and looked
Speaker 1: at the mountain. Chef kept my little kitchenette stocked with
Speaker 1: pastries and fruit for breakfast, which again I ate in bed.
Speaker 1: I took long, steaming hot baths and the claw foot tub.
Speaker 1: I listened to music and read. When I got hungry,
Speaker 1: I ordered room service, which was brought in covered dishes
Speaker 1: all the way from the hotel, up the funicular and
Speaker 1: to my door. I changed from one pair of pajamas
Speaker 1: into another and just enjoyed the quiet and the solitude.
Speaker 1: My friend who'd invited me here, the chef who'd been
Speaker 1: sending up the pastries from their kitchen, had given me space,
Speaker 1: knowing that I needed rest more than I needed company.
Speaker 1: They'd invited me for dinner when I was up to it,
Speaker 1: or a snow shoe along some of the gentler paths.
Speaker 1: What a gift. Friends like that are the kind that
Speaker 1: you don't have to explain yourself too, who take you
Speaker 1: as you are and want your well being as much
Speaker 1: as you do. It reminded me of the way Italians
Speaker 1: say I love you. They have a romantic way and
Speaker 1: a platonic way of expressing it. The platonic way simply
Speaker 1: said I want you to be well. Tivolio bene chef
Speaker 1: wanted me to be well, and it felt very good
Speaker 1: to be loved by a friend like that. Today I
Speaker 1: had an urge to finally step out of my little
Speaker 1: sanctuary and explore a bit. I wasn't a skier, though
Speaker 1: I'd enjoyed watching the brave souls on the mountain cutting
Speaker 1: through the fresh powder each day. I thought, today I
Speaker 1: might prefer to bundle up and take the funicular down
Speaker 1: to the hotel, poke through their shops and lobby, and
Speaker 1: see if chef would make me a tasty dinner in
Speaker 1: their restaurant. The resort made its own fresh snow each
Speaker 1: day to make the skiing and snowboarding as good as
Speaker 1: it could be. But mother nature had been no slouch
Speaker 1: in that department either. There was a solid foot and
Speaker 1: a half on the ground around my cabin, and more
Speaker 1: falling by the minute I layered on my thermals, powder pants,
Speaker 1: heavy coat and boots stepped out the door. The funicular
Speaker 1: traveled up and down the mountain every few minutes, so
Speaker 1: I only had to wait a minute on the platform,
Speaker 1: And while I did, I looked across the slopes and
Speaker 1: saw more cabins and groves of trees. On the other side,
Speaker 1: people were riding ski lifts up into the sky. Their
Speaker 1: skis dangling in the air, and I thought the whole
Speaker 1: endeavor must be exhilarating. Just stand ending here in the
Speaker 1: cold air, I felt energized and awake in a way
Speaker 1: I hadn't be quite a while. The funicular arrived in
Speaker 1: front of me, and I realized that the tracks didn't
Speaker 1: stop at my little platform. They went farther up the mountain,
Speaker 1: and I suddenly realized I wanted to go up rather
Speaker 1: than down. I stepped inside and sat down on a
Speaker 1: cushioned bench. I've always wanted to take one of those
Speaker 1: winter train trips where the tracks wind through snowy landscapes
Speaker 1: while tea is served and fancy cups in the dining car.
Speaker 1: This was close. It was only a few minutes ride
Speaker 1: up the mountain, but it was an extraordinary view, and
Speaker 1: I had the presence of mind to really take it
Speaker 1: all in. Sometimes life happened so fast I felt like
Speaker 1: I missed the details, And maybe this was one of
Speaker 1: the reasons I love to read. I could take in
Speaker 1: each scene as slowly as I liked reread favorite passages,
Speaker 1: change moods by flipping to a different chapter. Now I
Speaker 1: realized I was in a beautiful verse. I would want
Speaker 1: to reread, so I kept my eyes open. I noticed
Speaker 1: the way the snow flakes landed on the window, how
Speaker 1: there was a split second while they were intact, and
Speaker 1: I could see their tiny symmetrical patterns before they seemed
Speaker 1: to go out of focus. They turned blurry and melted,
Speaker 1: and We're gone. I caught my own reflection in the
Speaker 1: glass and looked through it to the sloping land all
Speaker 1: around me. I smiled at that, don't we often look
Speaker 1: through ourselves when we look out, a layer of self
Speaker 1: imperceptibly shading the view. The funicular bumped to a stop,
Speaker 1: the doors slid open, and the true, unimpeded view of
Speaker 1: the mountain was even sweeter. I stepped out to find
Speaker 1: a building with broad, overhanging eaves and a tall stone chimney,
Speaker 1: wood smoke rising from it. I'd felt a few times
Speaker 1: here that I was in a fairy tale, and this
Speaker 1: seemed to cement the idea. Here was a real life chalet,
Speaker 1: and I wondered if the Funicular had somehow delivered me
Speaker 1: in a split second to the Alps. There was a
Speaker 1: broad stone patio wrapped around the chalet, a fire pit
Speaker 1: roaring in the center, and small tables with a few
Speaker 1: bundled up guests sitting here and there. I wandered up
Speaker 1: to the door and stepped through. I hadn't felt cold,
Speaker 1: but my cheeks burned as the warm are circled around
Speaker 1: on me. The place was a long, open room with
Speaker 1: a giant fireplace along one wall. Deep chairs were pulled
Speaker 1: up around it, and people were sitting with drinks in
Speaker 1: their hands, looking out the floor to ceiling windows at
Speaker 1: the slopes. Across from the fire was a long bar,
Speaker 1: and I could hear the hiss of an espresso machine.
Speaker 1: I unsnapped the neck of my coat and pulled away
Speaker 1: my scarf. As I stepped up to the bar, I
Speaker 1: thought I want to stay awhile. I asked the bartender
Speaker 1: if they had hot tea, and she stepped away for
Speaker 1: a moment and brought back a large wicker basket, which
Speaker 1: she sat before me. As she opened it, it was
Speaker 1: divided into twenty or more little cubbies, each with a
Speaker 1: canister of loose leaf tea nestled inside. I practically clapped
Speaker 1: my hands in excitement as I read the labels. Mint
Speaker 1: in the winter always felt like a natural choice, and
Speaker 1: I was reaching for it when the bartender leaned in
Speaker 1: and tapped her finger against a different flavor. I read
Speaker 1: the label orange Blossoms, rose petals, and silver needle tea.
Speaker 1: You think, I said. She just nodded and watched and
Speaker 1: waited for me to nod back. When I did, she
Speaker 1: smiled and swept the box away to set me up
Speaker 1: with a pot and cup. I thought for a moment
Speaker 1: that I wished I'd brought my book, but made this
Speaker 1: was even better. I'd take in every detail my senses
Speaker 1: could show me, as if I were writing this moment
Speaker 1: down in a story Sweet Dreams