Speaker 1: Welcome to Season eleven of Bedtime Stories for Everyone, in
Speaker 1: which nothing much happens, you feel good, and then you
Speaker 1: fall asleep. I'm Catherine Nikolay. I read and write all
Speaker 1: the stories you hear on Nothing Much Happens with audio
Speaker 1: engineering by Bob Wittersheim. I've just written the bonus episode
Speaker 1: for January for our Premium Plus subscribers, and it is
Speaker 1: such a lovely one. Right now, Premium Plus is on sale.
Speaker 1: You get the full catalog of almost two hundred episodes,
Speaker 1: completely ad free, plus a bonus EPP every month, and
Speaker 1: it works out to just over a dime a day.
Speaker 1: It is a really meaningful way to support what we do.
Speaker 1: Learn more at Nothing Much Happens dot com. Now, the
Speaker 1: best way to fall asleep is not to try to
Speaker 1: fall asleep. The trying puts you in the wrong state
Speaker 1: of mind. So the best approach here is due less.
Speaker 1: Just listen to the story I have for you, and
Speaker 1: let your mind rest on the words and the sound
Speaker 1: of my voice, and before long you'll be carried off
Speaker 1: to Bedfordshire. I'll tell it twice, and I'll go a
Speaker 1: little slower the second time through. If you wake again
Speaker 1: in the night, don't hesitate to turn me right back on,
Speaker 1: or just think through whatever you can remember from the story.
Speaker 1: Sometimes just saying the name of the story in your
Speaker 1: head is enough to shift you back into sleep. Now
Speaker 1: lights out, it's time to snuggle yourself down into the
Speaker 1: most comfortable position you can find. Notice how the sheets feel,
Speaker 1: how good it is to be in bed and about
Speaker 1: to fall asleep. And hear me say this. You aren't
Speaker 1: in trouble. No one is waiting, no one is angry,
Speaker 1: nothing needs your attention. Right now. You aren't in trouble.
Speaker 1: You are safe. Take a slow breath in through your
Speaker 1: nose and out through your mouth. One more breathe in,
Speaker 1: let it out good. Our story tonight is called Winter Getaway,
Speaker 1: and it's a story about an invitation that arrives on
Speaker 1: the back of a postcard. It's also about glittering snow
Speaker 1: and a cabin tucked into a mountain side, stack of
Speaker 1: new books and deep deep rest. Winter get Away with
Speaker 1: the holiday rush over, the bookshop was quiet, and I
Speaker 1: didn't mind it. I had been run off my feet
Speaker 1: in the best possible way. In the last few weeks.
Speaker 1: Our book clubs had all gotten together to share a
Speaker 1: holiday party, and it was fun to watch the romance
Speaker 1: readers mix with the Murder Mystery crew. The history fans
Speaker 1: and the sci fi enthusiasts had turned out to have
Speaker 1: a lot in common, and besides sharing their favorite titles
Speaker 1: for the year, they had all eaten their way through
Speaker 1: a table of appetizers and dipped ladlefuls of punch from
Speaker 1: the bowl till it was empty. That had been a
Speaker 1: fun evening. Every Saturday in December, the children's nook had
Speaker 1: been packed for our clauses with the Clauses Story Hour,
Speaker 1: which was the brainchild of a few of the reading
Speaker 1: teachers from the elementary school. They dressed up in their
Speaker 1: red suits and read books to the kids with just
Speaker 1: a few grammar lessons folded in. There was also my
Speaker 1: annual Top one hundred Books of the Year list to curate,
Speaker 1: and displays to put out. The bell over the door
Speaker 1: had rung so much that I'd started to hear it
Speaker 1: in my sleep, so when the bustle finally died down,
Speaker 1: I found myself in need of a bit of respite.
Speaker 1: I often closed the shop down completely for a week
Speaker 1: or so at the beginning of the year and would
Speaker 1: just hole up in my house with a stack of books.
Speaker 1: I never did get tired of reading. I'd spend each
Speaker 1: day eating progressively staler Christmas cookies and falling asleep on
Speaker 1: the couch with a book on my chest. I'd thought
Speaker 1: to do the same thing this year, but had gotten
Speaker 1: an invitation from a friend of mine that had been
Speaker 1: too tempting to resist. My friend was a chef and
Speaker 1: spent half the year cooking at the inn on the
Speaker 1: lake in our own little village, and the other half
Speaker 1: traveling and working in different places. Every other month, I've
Speaker 1: gotten a postcard from them, with a pretty picture on
Speaker 1: the front of a night scene on a mountain, a
Speaker 1: ski slope strung with lights, and in the distance a
Speaker 1: cozy looking lodge whose lit windows suggested roaring fires and
Speaker 1: hot drinks. On the back, they'd just written, bring your
Speaker 1: books and Happy Hanukah. I'd stuck the postcard to the
Speaker 1: front of the cash register at the bookshop, and especially
Speaker 1: on busy days, the idea of getting away for a
Speaker 1: bit had gotten me through, so I'd sent a card
Speaker 1: back and we'd made some plans. I'd never been before,
Speaker 1: but remembered from Chef's stories that they had a large hotel,
Speaker 1: a beautiful place with a spa and a big restaurant
Speaker 1: that looked out over the slopes where chef worked most days.
Speaker 1: But they also had chalets and cabins, and that sounded
Speaker 1: even better. I booked myself a little cabin with a
Speaker 1: king size bed, a fireplace, and a big claw foot tub.
Speaker 1: It was just a few minutes walk from the hotel
Speaker 1: and looked like just the place to recoup for the week.
Speaker 1: So I closed up the bookshop, hung a sign in
Speaker 1: the window advising all those having literary emergencies to please
Speaker 1: consult with the library, and drove off on a cold,
Speaker 1: sunny afternoon. The drive had been nice too. I took
Speaker 1: back roads most of the way, and as I got
Speaker 1: farther and farther north, the snow on farmhouse rooftops and
Speaker 1: across fields got thicker. Finally, the mountains came into view
Speaker 1: and I followed the signs till I was pulling into
Speaker 1: the resort. I checked in at the hotel and the
Speaker 1: clerk asked if I needed help getting my bags to
Speaker 1: the funicular. What now, I asked, a little confused. I
Speaker 1: was guided through the grand lobby, which was still decorated
Speaker 1: with pine trees and point statius past the restaurant where
Speaker 1: chef must be working, and out onto a pretty covered patio,
Speaker 1: where I was mesmerized for a moment looking up at
Speaker 1: the snow covered mountain, watching skiers expertly shushing their way down.
Speaker 1: My guide paused with me and pointed out a grove
Speaker 1: of trees halfway up the mountain. Half a dozen log
Speaker 1: cabins were nestled in among the pines, and I was
Speaker 1: delighted to hear that one of them was mine. It
Speaker 1: turned out a funicular is a sort of diagon old
Speaker 1: train that carries you in a comfortable little carriage up
Speaker 1: a mountain. The view from inside was fantastic and only
Speaker 1: got more amazing as it climbed. The sun was dropping
Speaker 1: steadily down the horizon, and its rosy orange light was
Speaker 1: reflected on the snow. When the funicular stopped and my
Speaker 1: guide helped me out onto the platform with my roller
Speaker 1: bag mostly full of books and a duffel with my clothes,
Speaker 1: He handed me my key and I trundled down a
Speaker 1: short path to my door. I eagerly fitted the key
Speaker 1: in the lock and pushed the door open. What a
Speaker 1: dream I was in. The little place was cozy and warm,
Speaker 1: with a fire already going in the grate. I locked
Speaker 1: the door behind me and wheeled my bag toward the
Speaker 1: giant bed and let myself just flop down for a
Speaker 1: few moments. Now I've tried, and I've even watched YouTube
Speaker 1: videos to learn more, but I just can't make a
Speaker 1: bed as well as a housekeeper in a hotel does.
Speaker 1: And this one had crisp white sheets and was piled
Speaker 1: with fluffy blankets. Besides the bathroom with its beautiful tub,
Speaker 1: the cabin was all one room, with plenty of space
Speaker 1: for me to stretch out and relax. There was a
Speaker 1: small kitchenette tucked along one wall, and I got up
Speaker 1: to explore it. I found a coffee pot and a
Speaker 1: bag of fresh grounds for my mornings, the usual Minni
Speaker 1: bar with drinks and sweets, and under a glass dome
Speaker 1: on the counter a dozen black and white cookies with
Speaker 1: a note from my friend rest up, eat, read books,
Speaker 1: come by the restaurant later and I'll fix you something special.
Speaker 1: That all sounded like the best medicine. I lifted the
Speaker 1: dome and took a cookie and stepped over to the
Speaker 1: window to look out while I nibbled at it. The
Speaker 1: hotel was lit up like a Christmas tree, and people
Speaker 1: were skiing and snowboarding under the clear, dark sky with
Speaker 1: a sliver of moon rising over the mountain. I took
Speaker 1: in a deep breath and let out a sigh. Winter
Speaker 1: getaway with the holiday a rush over. The bookshop was quiet,
Speaker 1: and I didn't mind it. I'd been run off my
Speaker 1: feet in the best possible way. In the last few weeks.
Speaker 1: Our book clubs had all gotten together to share a
Speaker 1: holiday party, and it was fun to watch the romance
Speaker 1: readers mix with the Murder Mystery crew. The history fans
Speaker 1: and the sci fi enthusiasts had turned out to have
Speaker 1: a lot in common, and besides sharing their favorite titles
Speaker 1: for the year, they had all eaten their way through
Speaker 1: a table of appetizers and dipped ladlefuls of punch from
Speaker 1: the bowl till it was empty. That had been a
Speaker 1: fun evening. Every Saturday in December, the children's nook had
Speaker 1: been packed for our clauses with the Clauses Story Hour,
Speaker 1: which was the brainchild of a few of the reading
Speaker 1: teachers from the elementary school. They dressed up in their
Speaker 1: red suits and read books to the kids with just
Speaker 1: a few grammar lessons folded in. Then there was also
Speaker 1: my annual Top one hundred Books of the Year list
Speaker 1: to curate, and displazed put out. The bell over the
Speaker 1: door had rung so much that I had started to
Speaker 1: hear it in my sleep, so when the bustle finally
Speaker 1: died down, I found myself in need of a bit
Speaker 1: of respite. I often closed the shop down completely for
Speaker 1: a week or so at the beginning of the year
Speaker 1: and would just hole up in my house with a
Speaker 1: stack of books. I never did get tired of reading.
Speaker 1: I'd spend each day eating progressively staler Christmas cookies and
Speaker 1: falling asleep on the couch with a book on my chest.
Speaker 1: I'd thought to do the same thing this year, but
Speaker 1: had gotten an invitation from a friend of mine that
Speaker 1: had been too tempting to resist. My friend was a
Speaker 1: chef and spent half of the year cooking at the
Speaker 1: inn on the lake in our own little village, and
Speaker 1: the other half traveling and working in different places. Every
Speaker 1: other month, I'd gotten a postcard from them with a
Speaker 1: pretty picture on the front of a night scene on
Speaker 1: a mountain ski slope strung with lights and in the
Speaker 1: distance a cozy looking lodge whose lit windows, suggested roaring
Speaker 1: fires and hot drinks. On the back, they'd just written
Speaker 1: bring your books unhappy Hanukkah. I'd stuck the postcard to
Speaker 1: the front of the cash register at the bookshop, and
Speaker 1: especially on the busy days, the idea of getting away
Speaker 1: for a bit had gotten me through, so I'd sent
Speaker 1: a card back when we'd made some plans. I'd never
Speaker 1: been before, but remembered from Chef's stories that they had
Speaker 1: a large hotel, a beautiful place with a spa and
Speaker 1: a big restaurant that looked out over the slopes where
Speaker 1: Chef worked most days. But they also had chalets and cabins,
Speaker 1: and that sounded even better. I'd booked myself a little
Speaker 1: cabin with a king's size bed, a fireplace and a
Speaker 1: big claw foot. It was just a few minutes walk
Speaker 1: from the hotel and looked like just the place to
Speaker 1: recoup for the week. So I closed up the bookshop,
Speaker 1: hung a sign in the window advising all those having
Speaker 1: literary emergencies to please consult with the library, and drove
Speaker 1: off on a cold, sunny afternoon, and the drive had
Speaker 1: been nice too. I took back roads most of the way,
Speaker 1: and as I got farther and farther north, the snow
Speaker 1: on farmhouse rooftops and a cross fields got thicker. Finally,
Speaker 1: mountains came into view, and I followed the signs till
Speaker 1: I was pulling into the resort. I checked in at
Speaker 1: the hotel and the clerk asked if I needed help
Speaker 1: getting my bags to the funicular. What now, I asked,
Speaker 1: a little confused. I was guided through the grand lobby,
Speaker 1: which was still decorated with pine trees and point stedius,
Speaker 1: past the restaurant where chef must be working, and out
Speaker 1: onto a pretty covered patio, where I was mesmerized for
Speaker 1: a moment looking up at the snow covered mountain, watching
Speaker 1: skiers expertly shushing their way down. My guide paused with
Speaker 1: me and pointed out a grove of trees half way
Speaker 1: up the mountain. Half a dozen log cabins were nestled
Speaker 1: in among the pines, and I was delighted to hear
Speaker 1: that one of them was mine. It turned out that
Speaker 1: a funicular is a sort of diagonal train that carries
Speaker 1: you in a comfortable little carriage up a mountain. The
Speaker 1: view from inside was fantastic and only got more amazing
Speaker 1: as it climbed the sun was dropping steadily down the horizon,
Speaker 1: and its rosy orange light was reflected on the snow.
Speaker 1: When the funicular stopped and my guide helped me out
Speaker 1: on to the platform with my roller bag mostly full
Speaker 1: of books, on a daffel with my clothes. He handed
Speaker 1: me my key and I trundled down a short path
Speaker 1: to my door. I eagerly fitted the key in the
Speaker 1: lock and pushed the door open. What a dream I
Speaker 1: was in. The little place was cozy and warm, with
Speaker 1: a fire already going in the grate. I locked the
Speaker 1: door behind me and wheeled my bag toward the giant bed.
Speaker 1: I just let myself flop down for a few moments. Now.
Speaker 1: I've tried, and I've even watched YouTube videos to learn more,
Speaker 1: but I can't make a bed as well as a
Speaker 1: housekeeper in a hotel does. And this one had crisp
Speaker 1: white sheets and was piled with fluffy blankets. Besides the
Speaker 1: bathroom with its beautiful tub, the cabin was all one room,
Speaker 1: with plenty of space for me to stretch out and relax.
Speaker 1: There was a small kitchenette along one wall, and I
Speaker 1: got up to explore it. I found a coffee pot
Speaker 1: and a bag of fresh grounds for my mornings, the
Speaker 1: usual mini bar with drinks and sweets, and under a
Speaker 1: glass dome on the counter a dozen black and white
Speaker 1: cookies with a note from my friend rest up, eat,
Speaker 1: read books, come by the restaurant later and I'll fix
Speaker 1: you something special. Ah. That all sounded like the best medicine.
Speaker 1: I lifted the dome and took a cookie and stepped
Speaker 1: over to the window to look out. While I nibbled
Speaker 1: at it. The hotel was lit up like a Christmas tree,
Speaker 1: and people were skiing and snowboarding under the clear sky,
Speaker 1: with a sliver of moon rising over the mountains. I
Speaker 1: took a deep breath in and let it out with
Speaker 1: a sigh. Sweet dreams.