Swiss Alps Jill sent in the following masterpiece for everyone visiting Coco Village:
Once a month I go to the news agent and buy $50.00 in English language magazines. Not Cosmopolitan, People or Glamor; I don't want to read "How to Drive Him Mad in Bed", or, go "Inside Hollywood's Worst Divorces" and though "Thin Thighs in Thirty Days" does have some appeal, 'diet and exercise' really isn't worth the $10.00 sticker price. No, I buy Traveller, House and Garden and Bon Appétit. After the purchase, I put them aside till I have a day where nothing is on my to-do list, and then I pop some Italian opera and Edith Piaf in the CD player, and I sit, pajama-clad, on the floor and spread their glossy promise around me like birthday presents, and begin to read and clip pieces that describe, cozy inns and undiscovered villages; articles that feature rich textiles and use the phrases like "bespoke furniture"; then I move on to wine suggestions and recipes that let me experiment with exotic spices or delicate seasonings.
Now here's the thing, this day spent with a few magazines transports me to that amazing place, the "Realm of the Possible". I will never live like the stars, I won't ever look like the 17 year old models in Glamor and I surely don’t need life advice from Cosmo, but I can sing along with the doomed Edith or the Italian diva, because in the "Realm of the Possible" I speak perfect French and Italian, and I might be able to visit the rustic, country inn in Croatia, and I might find that perfect heirloom rug that transforms my sitting room into a warm, inviting place of mental refuge, and I may prepare an unforgettable meal, entertaining dear friends in my candlelit garden, where everyone laughs and enjoys themselves, warmed by good food and drink. After all, these are the best kinds of fantasies, the ones that flirt with possible reality.
Write again soon, Swiss Alps Jill. We like to build international forces.