The crown was hidden away over the next few decades, for a treasure chest of reasons. Layers of dust formed atop it, from things like:
Forget crowns. Just getting through the week took precedence.
Princess thoughts crept back while touring a tiny village near Helsinki, Finland. I delighted over the design as street lights dripped with details and benches were draped in fleur de lis, for no other apparent reason than to please the eye. While standing at the center of a footbridge adorned with intricacies, I concluded that the artist must have been hopelessly in love, trying to impress his woman. I imagined what it might be like to be her.
When The Village at Meridian was being built, I curiously peered at its palatial rooftops while driving by the corner of Fairview and Eagle Road. Just before The Village opened, I was asked to write an article about it. The article quoted Ramona Merrill Richardson, Regional Marketing Director for CenterCal, who said, “It’s not an exaggeration to say the public will not be prepared for how truly remarkable the setting will be."
But… it’s been one doozy of a year. I’d put in sixty-hour writing/editing weeks. My home needed attention, the grown kids needed cash, the flower beds called, my dog wanted walks, I wanted/needed exercise, I had a pile of emails and voicemails to answer, friends and family were getting after me about being a stranger, and to top it all off, a few stress-related health scares.
Security Guard Nick was standing near the restaurant entrance, and I waved, hoping he’d pose when I had my camera ready. He didn’t.
“We should make this our go-to place for Girls’ Night,” she told us, and we nodded as our server, Ali, brought onion straws, which led into a question about rings vs. straws.
“You’ll see!” Leslie promised. The four of us discussed the atmosphere, pleased over what wasn’t present. No offensive music, no teenagers cruising for dates, no one showing too much skin, no cursing, and no food courts making us feel more like cattle than customers.