Isn't It Romantic?

Early this morning...
I was transported back to my Greene Street days. Old Roomie was there, too. However, Greene St itself was much changed. A canal of water ran down the street. The houses on either side were separated from the water by wooden sidewalks. The houses themselves were also greatly changed. They resembled more those houses which may be found in Williamsburg than their normal, collegiate appearance.

I was returning home one evening, aided by the light of lanterns hung over the sidewalks. I was dressed in 18th century petticoats, jacket, and cape. I was carrying a basket of sewing, and it became apparent to me that I was returning home from my daily employment. As I entered the wooden, candle-lit abode of the Shack, Old Roomie with the gorgeous curly hair was also there - and also dressed in 18th century clothing. She had also just returned from her day spent nursing the sick of the town. There were two gentlemen and a lady leaving the residence. I paid them no heed, because I had seen them before. Besides, people are always coming and going from the Shack.

The lady was beautiful. Her perfect golden ringlets were pulled back with a ribbon and peeped out from the back of her feathered hat. Her dress, in contrast to the rest of the girls in my dream, was a beautiful gown made in the polonaisse pattern that gained such popularity among much more cultured society. The gentlemen that accompanied her were also dressed very well - in knee breeches and dark, dignified jackets. One of them tried to catch my eye through the window as he bowed and lifted his hat to reveal his powdered wig to me. I could only imagine that he would be mocking me - one of inferior social status. Therefore, I lifted my chin and turned my head until he passed.

That was when we found it - a scrolled note attached to a small arrow and pinned to the door. It was a note for me. Penned in perfect penmanship, the note explained that the gentleman had chance to observe my quarters at all hours that a waking breath may be drawn. After watching me from afar for some time, he had observed that I was the most "beautiful woman he had ever observed in face, word and deed." He was asking me , if I could at least return some small part of his feelings, to accompany him on a midnight gondola ride - with grilled shrimp (Yum!!) the next evening. He would wait for me in a designated spot. He was a perfect gentleman who was well thought of by all. I realized then that I loved him, too. And while I was reading the note, beautiful music was being played from heaven that fit the scene perfectly.

That was when I realized that my cell phone alarm was playing the music-box-like-tune to wake me up. Hubby isn't jealous at all. (I have my suspicions that he was probably the gentleman.) But, wasn't it beautiful? So close to a Mr.Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet moment.

(Huge Sigh....) Now, I really want some grilled shrimp....