It took us weeks of wrangling sitters and organizing schedules, half a day to get out of the house, and a few more hours before we were fully out of town, but we finally did it. Just Jeff and me.
First vacation since the North Shore a few years back. I slept half of the drive. Pure luxury, because at home I must always drive for safety reasons with Jack in the car.
My ears are clogged up with my head cold so when we arrived at our quiet oasis, the landscape was muffled and surreal. Palm trees. Peacefulness. Yes, thank you.
I sat on the patio by the ponds and water features and read the second half of my book. Guys, I finished a book in a single sitting, huzzah! (Floating in My Mother’s Palm by Ursula Hegi, a deft storyteller and literary keeper. Two thumbs up.)
I told Jeff that my wish for this trip is to do absolutely nothing. We are in agreement. Our entire lives are one giant adventure, one enormous, cyclical California Screamin’. And I totes don’t even like roller coasters. We need the absence of adventure. We need peace.
We bought groceries for grown-ups. There are no dino nuggets anywhere.
Our vacation abode is light, white, and perfectly clean. It’s the antithesis of our actual house, where if it hasn’t been wrecked, don’t fret. It will be soon.
The desert is lovely. Retreating from the fray is restorative. And we are skipping Halloween, so I feel I deserve a major award for my excellent planning. The boys aren’t skipping Halloween. They are going to throw themselves into it with glee, and Junior and Shandon are handling all of it. I just opted out this year.
A vacation from busy is my major award.