Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep - Return to the Chalet, Part 2

Episode Date: January 5, 2026

Our story tonight is called Return to the Chalet, Part 2 , and it’s picking up where Part 1 ended, at a little cabin at the foot of a snow-covered slope. It’s also about waking without an alarm and coffee by the fire, saunas and hot stones, soft hoodies and not having to decide anything, quiet exchanges, and the achievement of letting yourself receive care without argument. We give to a different charity each week, and this week we are giving to The Canadian Children’s Book Centre .They work to help Canadian parents, librarians, educators, and caregivers foster a lifelong love of reading in children and teens. Subscribe to our ⁠⁠⁠Premium channel.⁠⁠⁠ The first month is on us. 💙 ⁠⁠⁠⁠NMH Merch, Autographed Books and More!⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Listen to our daytime show ⁠⁠⁠⁠Stories from the Village of Nothing Much⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Sit Meditation with Kathryn⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠Pay it forward subscription⁠⁠⁠⁠  Follow us on ⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠ Visit ⁠⁠⁠⁠Nothing Much Happens⁠⁠⁠⁠ for more Village fun! Get cozy at the Inn with this playlist! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Get more, nothing much happens with bonus episodes, extra long stories, and ad-free listening, all while supporting the show you love. Subscribe now. Have you ever noticed how certain things just quietly change, and one day you realize you don't quite remember how they used to be? Like when slow dancing disappeared? Or when drinking water became a whole personality? or who just cited the word mullet should describe that haircut. Those are exactly the kinds of everyday mysteries explored on Decoder Ring, Slate's podcast, hosted by Willa Haskin. Every episode takes something familiar, something hiding in plain sight, and gently pulls it apart to uncover the history, context, and surprising turns beneath it.

Willa brings curiosity, humor, and deep reporting to questions you didn't even realize you were asking. It's thoughtful without being stuffy, smart without being overwhelming, and genuinely fun to listen to. A kind of show that makes you see the world a little differently afterwards. Dakota Ring was named one of the best podcasts of 2023 by The New York Times, and once you start listening, it's easy to understand why. You can find new episodes of Dakota Ring every two weeks, wherever you get your podcasts. Welcome to Bedtime Stories for Everyone, in which nothing much happens. You feel good, and then you fall asleep. I'm Catherine Nicolai.

I write and read all the stories you'll hear on Nothing Much Happens. Audio Engineering is by Bob Wittersheim. We give to a different charity each week. And this week we are giving to the Canadian Children's Book Center. They work to help Canadian parents, librarians, educators, and caregivers. Foster a lifelong love of reading and children and teens. Learn more about them in our show notes. We make a lot of other things, besides bedtime stories, the Nothing Much Staffens and I, books, audio books, with a new one coming this year.

Two other podcasts, merch and bonus and extra long episodes on our premium feed. You can learn more and subscribe at Nothing Much Happens.com. Falling asleep to sound is completely natural. Our ancient ancestors certainly would have heard other voices, crackling fires, and sounds of the natural world around them. All things considered quiet at bedtime is kind of new. And when the sounds, the voice, the content, is all designed to make you feel good, to let your nervous system shift deeply into rest and digest response,

well, my friend, you are doing this sleep hygiene thing really well. I'll tell the story twice and I'll go a little slower the second time through if you wake later in the night just press play again our story tonight is called

Return to the chalet part two and it's picking up where part one ended at a little cabin at the foot of a snow-covered slope. It's also about waking up without an alarm. Coffee by the fire. Saunas and hot stones.

Soft hoodies and not having to decide anything. Quiet exchanges. And the achievement of letting yourself receive care without argument. Now get as comfortable as you can. There is nothing left to do or attend to. You have done enough for the day. Feel how good it is to close your eyes, to be in your bed,

to be about to fall deeply asleep. Take a deep breath in through your nose and sigh from your mouth. Again, breathe in, and out. Good. Return to the chalet. Part 2 It was day 3 or maybe 4. I'd lost track and it didn't matter.

All I knew was that there was still plenty of time to enjoy here in my cabin beside the mountain. Or our cabin, rather. as I wasn't here alone. My short-legged, long-bodied, black and white-spotted, mish-mash of a pooch, was here with me.

Alphabet had his own bed, thoughtfully provided by the hotel, beside the fire. But at some point in the night, He'd crawled up into bed with me. He'd scratched at the faux fur throw at my feet until he'd fluffed it into a nest and huffed as he'd plopped down into it.

I remember waking for a moment and falling right back to sleep. When I'd opened my eyes again, it was bright in the cabin, and I'd peeked at the clock on the wall to see that I had indeed done something I hadn't been able to in ages. I'd slept in. I felt kind of proud of myself, supposing it was a sign. that this getaway was working with each day another layer of worn-out self

was being refurbished when today would be particularly helpful in that pursuit the last time I'd been here I hadn't ventured out much on the resort. I'd needed the time alone more.

Time to read and sleep and be quiet. But this year I wanted to get out more, to do a bit. Still not too much, but a bit. And I'd noticed a brochure beside the coffee maker. about spa services offered down at the hotel. There were pictures of people in fluffy white robes lounging beside a fire

or having a massage with hot stones resting on their backs. It looked like they had a sauna and private hot tubs cold plunge baths, and a menu of teas and juices. I'd spent a few minutes looking over all the options, honestly getting a little overwhelmed with the choices. When I remembered, I had an expert I could lean on. A good friend from my home village,

Chef spent their summers cooking meals for guests at the inn there, and their winters here at the hotel. I sent them a message, saying that I wanted to book some time at the spa today, didn't know what to choose or even how many services to sign up for. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. and when I read the message back, I smiled. I just said, you're booked. Show up at the spa at 10.

We'll send down lunch for you after. Now that's a friend. Just sorting it out for me. Understanding what I'd like and taking the weight of decision-making off my shoulders. It felt like a literal weight, and I rolled them back a couple of times and tipped my head from side to side,

feeling the muscles there stretch and release. By the time my coffee cup was empty, Alphabet had shaken himself awake and jumped up on the couch beside me with an earnest look in his eyes. Ready for a little fresh air, buddy? He pounced his front paws onto my leg, a definite yes in dog's beak.

We put on our coats and stepped out into the, cold morning air. I liked this part of our routine. We'd wander down the wooden boardwalk to where we could see skiers on the hills. I'd watch for squirrels in the trees. He'd sniff and attend to business. The view down to the hotel was beautiful.

All this sloping white, edged here and there with stands of pines and cabins. The sunlight sparkling on the snow and the impressive lines of the hotel. I could see a few guests out on the long patio at its back, looking back up at us, probably planning out their day on the mountain. After a half hour or so, we both felt we'd had a solid dose of activity and sunshine and went back to the cabin. We breakfasted, English muffins with jam for me,

kibble and chef's homemade dog biscuits for him. Then Elfie returned to his dogbed beside the fire, and I knew from experience he would be napping for the next several hours. Time to head out for my own self-care. The brochure suggested comfortable clothes, saying that guests were welcome to be welcome to change into robes and slippers upon arrival. I almost started overthinking, are these lounge pants and hoodie okay? Then I sighed and remembered,

I didn't need to impress anyone, just be comfortable with myself. So back in my coat and boots, I stepped out and quietly closed the door behind me. I found an empty finicular car at the track and rode down to the hotel, blinking against the reflection of the sun on the snow. When I checked in at the spa,

I started to say that I didn't know what services I didn't, been booked for. And the receptionist smiled kindly saying, that's okay. We know. We'll take care of everything. Follow me. It's silly, maybe, to feel anxious about something like visiting a spa. It's meant to be all about relaxation and serenity. But in the past, I had found myself sometimes worrying if I should, like, ask the massage therapist about how their day was going, or that when offered fancy fruit drinks,

turned them down, not wanting to be any trouble. I could see myself tipping into those patterns and instead determined to just allow myself to be tended to. I accepted the spa water. I wore the fluffiest robe

and even asked for different size slippers when they didn't quite fit. When I was stretched out on the massage table, and the therapist started her work. She asked if I'd like this to be a quiet appointment. And I sighed and said, yes, please. There was eucalyptus oil diffusing,

low lights, and a very calm sort of music, that I only noticed when one track ended, when the next began. After the massage, I was led to a private hot tub space, where I could go back and forth between a sauna and the tub, and a cool water pool, and I did a few times. At some point a bell rang in the room. like a soft gong.

And I'd been told that when I heard it, it meant my lunch was set up in the lounge for me, would be kept warm till I got there. As I dressed in the room allotted for me, sliding back into my soft pants and sweater, I looked at myself in the mirror, My face looked different, not just calmer. I looked rested, deeply, maybe even radically, restored.

Well done, I whispered to myself, and went to find my lunch. Return to the Chalet, Part 2 It was Day 3 or maybe 4 I'd lost track and it didn't matter All I knew was that there was still plenty

of time left to enjoy here in my cabin beside the mountain, or our cabin, rather, as I wasn't here alone. My short-legged, long-bodied, black and white-spotted, mish-mash of a pooch was here with me. Alphabet had his own bed, thoughtfully provided by the hotel, beside the fire. But at some point in the night, he'd crawled up into bed with me.

He'd scratched at the faux fur throw at my feet Until he'd fluffed it into a nest And huffed, as he'd plopped down into it. I remembered waking for a moment And falling right back to sleep. When I'd opened my eyes again, it was bright in the cabin,

and I'd peaked at the clock on the wall, to see that I had indeed done something I hadn't been able to in ages I'd slept in. I felt kind of proud of myself. Supposing it was a sign that this getaway was working. With each day, another layer of worn-out self was being refurbished.

and today would be particularly helpful in that pursuit. The last time I'd been here, I hadn't ventured out onto the resort much. I'd needed the time alone more. Time to read and sleep and be quiet. But this year, I wanted to see more. Do a bit. Still not too much, but a bit. And I'd noticed a brochure beside the coffee maker

about spa services offered down at the hotel. There were pictures of people and fluffy white robes lounging beside a fire or having a massage with hot stones resting on their backs. It looked like they had a sauna and private hot tubs,

cold plunge baths, and a menu of teas and juices. I'd spent a few minutes looking over all the options, honestly, getting a little overwhelmed with the choices. When I remembered, I had an expert I could lean on,

a good friend from my home village. Chef spent their summers cooking meals for guests at the inn there and their winters here at the hotel. I sent them a message saying that I wanted to book some time at the spa today. I didn't know what to change.

choose, or even how many services to sign up for. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed beside my coffee cup. And when I read the message back, I smiled. It just said, you're booked. Show up at the spa at 10. we'll send down lunch for you after. Now, that's a friend, just sorting it out for me, understanding what I'd like

and taking the weight of decision-making off my shoulders. It felt like a literal weight, had dropped, and I rolled them back a couple of times and tipped my head side to side, feeling the muscles there stretch and release. By the time my coffee cup was empty, Alphabet had shaken himself awake and jumped up on the couch beside me. with an earnest look in his eyes. Ready for a little fresh air, buddy? He pounced his front paws onto my leg,

a definite yes in dog speak. We put on our coats and stepped out into the cold morning air. I like this part of our root. we'd wander down the wooden boardwalks to where we could see skiers on the hills I'd watch for squirrels in the trees he'd sniff and attend to business the view down to the hotel was beautiful

all this sloping white edged here and there with stands of pines and cabins the sunlight sparkling on the snow and the impressive lines of the hotel I could see a few guests out on the long patio at its back looking back up at us

probably planning out their day on the mountain. After a half hour or so, we both felt we'd had a solid dose of activity and sunshine and went back to the cabin. We breakfasted, English muffins with jam for me, kibble and chef's homemade dog biscuits for him. Then Alphabet returned to his dog bed beside the fire, and I knew from experience he would be napping for the next several hours.

Time to head out for my own self-care. The brochure suggested comfortable clothes, saying that guests were welcome to change into robes and slippers upon arrival. I almost started overthinking, are these lounge pants, this hoodie, okay? Then I sighed and remembered. I didn't need to impress anyone. Just be comfortable with myself. So back in my coat and boots, I stepped out and quietly closed the cabin door behind me.

I found an empty, finicular car at the track, and rode down to the hotel, blinking against the reflection of the sun on the snow. When I checked in at the spa, I started to say that I didn't know what services I'd been booked for. And the receptionist smiled kindly, saying, that's okay. We know. We'll take care of everything. Follow me. It's silly, maybe, to feel anxious about something like visiting. a spa. It's meant to be all about relaxation and serenity. But in the past, I'd found myself worrying if I should, like, ask the massage therapist how their day was going, or that when I was offered

fancy fruit drinks. I should turn them down not wanting to be any trouble. I could see myself tipping into those patterns and instead determined to just allow myself to be tended to. I accepted the spa water. I wore the fluffiest robe and even asked for different size slippers

when they didn't quite fit. When I was stretched out on the massage table and the therapist started her work, she asked if I'd like this to be a quiet appointment, and I sighed, and said, yes, please. There was eucalyptus oil diffusing, low lights,

and a very calm sort of music that I only noticed when one track ended and the next began. After the massage, I was led to a private hot tub space where I could go back and forth between a sauna and the tub and a cool water pool

than I did a few times at some point a bell rang in the room like a soft gong and I'd been told that when I heard it, it meant my lunch was set up, ready in the lounge for me. But it would be kept warm till I got there. As I dressed in the room allotted for me, sliding back into my soft pants and sweater,

I looked at myself in the mirror. my face looked different not just calmer I looked rested deeply maybe even radically restored well done

I whispered to myself and went to find my lunch Sweet dreams.