Every Story has to start somewhere.
Usually it’s at the beginning, but not always. Mine started somewhere in the middle but I did keep going back to the beginning because that is where all stories SHOULD start. It’s just that sometimes you live in your life and don’t always remember that every day is part of the whole story. YOUR story.
Mine begins when I woke up to the fact that time was marching on … with or without me.
I am also a Princess.
Not a REAL one in the strict sense of the word, but a Princess Granny (sort of …) This means that my “Princess-ness” happens in my heart and my mind. You see, I don’t have real magic powers but I have extraordinary human ones. For instance, I can tell stories that can whisk little children away to faraway lands (in their imaginations); I can dry tears and make sore hearts better in a click! Of my fingers. Like THAT!!! I can bake and cook and make people laugh. I can crochet and knit and can teach you how to do the same. I can encourage and motivate little ones to dream their own dreams as I take them along with my dream.
Yes, I have a dream, a BIG dream. So big, in fact, I have had to verbalise it, often and to random people along the way, just so that I could keep it real within me. Watching their incredulous faces as I shared my dream, subjecting myself to answering the inevitable questions, all helped the swirls of foggy “dreamness” within me, to take shape and form and slowly, hatch into a plan, albeit a long-range plan. What started in that soft and pleasant, misty place in a nighttime sleepy fugue, formed itself into something tangible, something with actual handles to hold onto, rungs to hoist oneself up. Realness began to breathe into life by way of baby steps and small, steady goals and, even when the gloom of stock markets crashing and currencies devaluing, devastatingly threatened to bury “the dream” in an avalanche of fear and disillusionment, that small seed of hope stayed cradled and nursed, carefully, always alive.
The dream of sailing away, across the oceans of the world, exploring lost islands, meeting and mingling with cultures and peoples very different to my own, slowly but steadily climbed out of the background of my mind as we began our search, in earnest, for the right sailing vessel.
Grandchildren would be able to look forward to endless summer holidays in far-flung places with us, where they will be able to explore sandy beaches and secret coves, leave footprints on pristine powdery shores, taste cuisines previously unknown and they would make memories to last lifetimes!