The pieces of my life are falling into place. It's magical... breathtakingly spell-binding... to watch.
Henrybella's bakery is turning out to be exactly what it's supposed to be. It comes with an old Wurlitzer piano in the corner, promising a free cookie to anyone who will play a tune. (And also promising a chance for me to throw open the big glass doors and play Mozart while bread bakes.) It comes with tables, heavy and old, ready to hear new conversations and welcome new generations. It comes with tall ceilings and antique furniture and lazy, spinning ceiling fans. It, in a word, is perfect.
Of course, I'm adding my own things. Books, for one. (You know how I adore words.) And wooden checker boards from old U.S. Navy ships. And hand-hewn wooden bread bowls. And German water pitchers. And a cookie tree. Yes, a whole tree. Not a fake tree, mind you, but a real tree, fallen down and rescued and sealed and brought in. Close your eyes and think of the Sugar Plum tree, only with beribboned and wrapped cookies instead of plums. Um... maybe you'll have to see it. I'm thinking it's one of those things you have to see in person.
Put it this way: henrybella's is unlike any place you've ever been before. Or ever will be. Come once and you'll remember it forever. It's a dream. It's my dream.
I have so much to do before I open a week from today. So if I'm scarce about this place, my apologies. It's just that the pieces of my life are falling, supernaturally, into place, and it's breathtakingly spell-binding to watch. And I don't want to miss a second...