Soooooo you may be tired of hearing about a vacation I haven't been on yet, but that's too bad, I think. For you, anyway. There are a lot of things I need to do before I leave, and I am resisting the urge to create a new blog based around this idea, or even a sidebar so you can follow a long with me as I put everything off until the last minute. I won't do that, though. I have a list on my

When I first started to title this post, I started to type ‘the devil is in the details.’ Not knowing exactly the origin of the quote, I Googled it. ‘The devil’-version implies that the smallest details, if overlooked, might cause failure. The more positive ‘God is in the details’, I believe, is appropriate here, because if you look at the finer points of some of the historic landmarks in DC, they were truly inspired.

Pillars of the Jefferson Memorial

Some of the 4000 stars of the Freedom Wall at the WWII Memorial

One Entrance to Union Station

One hallway inside Union Station

The Stairwell inside the Hart Senate Office Building

One of the chandelier domes in the Capitol Building

Main Ceiling in Union Station

Large Dome in Capitol Building

Close-up of Dome (speaking of inspired…)

One view inside the Holocaust Museum

And, for fun, a close-up of the upper balcony of the White House, taken from the Washington Monument

 

I have been searching and searching for the most awesomest pair of boots for my Paris trip in October.  I think I may have found them.  What do you think?

Someday, we may have to sell the Vineyard house.

I said that to my mother the other day, although I felt like a traitor putting the thought into words. It’s a statement loaded with privilege – who has a Vineyard house anyway? – and, at the same time, loss.

Let me explain. In the sixties, my very smart grandfather had the good idea to buy land on Martha’s Vineyard and build a summer home with an ocean view. His family had rented cabins there in summers past. He was a physics professor at Harvard, so Martha’s Vineyard was a natural vacation spot, only a couple of hours away. When my grandfather chose a place, he chose well. There is a private beach for those with houses on the hill where we are. Drive a few minutes in one direction, and you are at a picturesque fishing village. A tiny town can be found the other way down the road. We’re away from the crowds. At least we were.

We can walk up the hill to the cemetery. My mother has started saying she knows more people in the cemetery these days than on the hill. Visitors leave stones and shells and wildflowers for their loved ones. Our plot is in a shaded corner. My grandmother Peg I never met who died suddenly in her sixties after enjoying only one summer in the Vineyard house, my cousin Keith who drowned at the age of 9 (not at the beach as I believed for years, but in a swimming pool in Dayton, Ohio), my uncle who died of cancer and the oddly jarring blank space on the same stone for his widow, still living. And the stone for my grandfather, who made this summer home for his extended family and lived into his nineties. We’re not the sort of people with big fancy gravestones. We’re the sort of people who pick out just the right natural stone, rolling boulders and smaller rocks, part of the landscape, to mark that we were here.

Our house is small, but I never noticed. Then the new people started building their houses bigger and bigger. I wonder what their gravestones will look like.

My mother, my aunts, my cousins, and my brother no doubt have their own Vineyard memories, as I have mine. Childhood adventures with my brother and cousins - fishing expeditions on the pond, sneaking food into the movies, hitchhiking home from the fair when I knew we shouldn’t. My Grandpa’s big birthday parties. Gatherings of neighbors, physicists, New Yorker cartoonists, artists, and writers (my grandfather remarried before I was born, my Grandma Helen, an editor for a New York publishing house), their cigarette smoke, cocktails, and chatter filling the room. Helen’s fabulous cooking. Learning to drive on the dirt roads on the hill. The summer I spent on the Vineyard as a teenager. Walking the beach to get through difficult times, and picturing it when I couldn’t be there. Years later, my husband proposing marriage on that same beach. Burying my beloved grandfather. Now bringing my children to see the ocean and meet old friends.

What started the conversation the other day? My mother informed me that another new resident is building an enormous house, blocking the view of many others, and is importing tall trees to boot. They’re building a swimming pool – a swimming pool! – on the property, despite that there is no municipal water supply and a pond and the ocean are just steps away. The last few times I’ve been to the Vineyard, I worried as much about the massive Mercedes and Lexus SUVs racing down the road as I did about the poison ivy we had to practically jump in to get out of their way as we wandered down to the beach. I can’t relate to the super-rich families I see on the beach these days, their children trampling in the dunes. The middle class owners of my grandfather’s day have sold, died, or are fading away.

I guess I have an old money attitude, but without the money. My family doesn’t want these upstarts spoiling our view, the ones who don’t even know enough to keep their kids off the dunes or board up the windows for a hurricane. We want our privilege, but the way it always has been, the way we inherited it. It’s embarrassing really, but there it is. Or maybe it’s just resentment, because they can afford something we might be losing our grip on. The old summer residents are the Vineyard’s first wife, traded in for a newer, richer, tackier model. And we don’t quite know if we should leave the party and go home.

There is something about holding on to a family house on Martha’s Vineyard when you are not otherwise wealthy. You know you belong (at least you did), but the people around you are perhaps beginning to wonder.

For some people, the Vineyard is all about belonging, and more importantly, showing that you belong. Who owns, who rents, who stays the whole summer, who can only get away for a week or two, who still says Gay Head instead of Aquinnah, who has perfected that Vineyard style of dress – tastefully disheveled with the right color of faded red or blue, like you have just awakened after sleeping on a sailboat, with salt in your hair. Who has the oldest date on their Black Dog shirt. And who is connected enough to know all the new people on the hill.

I don’t see my family fitting in with the nouveau riche crowd. In my generation of cousins, we have a puppeteer, a storyteller, a musician, and a writing teacher. We’re not exactly stockbrokers. We can’t afford to stick around, the intellectuals and artists, I guess. We aren’t rich enough, not in the right way. We haven’t raised our standard of living the way our grandparents did for the next generation; in fact, our trend is downwardly mobile. With the Vineyard house, we might struggle to manage and share the property and its burdens. As it is, the family has to rent it out most of the summer to afford to keep it. The house could someday divide us where once it brought us together.

A decision on selling is a long way off. My mother and her sister manage the house, and it is still a gathering place for family. It will fall to my generation, someday, to decide what to do. A year ago Labor Day the younger generation gathered on the Vineyard. It was magic to see my cousin Josh and my son Jonah playing together, to see my cousin Mark’s daughter reading with my son, my toddler riding the tricycle I rode as a child, to be together the way we all were as kids, and to still have a place to be, with memories filling the room.

We’ll never lose those memories. But I sometimes wonder if there’s still room for us on the Vineyard at all.

I think that all of the wedding video footage is finally edited and up on Viddler, so I’ve created a player with all of the videos, which will also be posted to our wedding/couple site for future viewing. It was an amazing trip, there are 20 separate videos, including the video of the ceremony, and you can hover over the thumbnail images below the player to browse through the titles.

I just went through and watched almost all of them again when I was writing this up… I don’t think Jim and I will top that entire trip for a long, long time. Definitely the best trip I’ve ever taken, with almost every important person in both of our lives there. :) Holy nostalgia, batman…

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I am still sick with whatever recent pestilence I managed to contract, which extra-special annoys me when I go to such lengths to avoid the general public. This is a particularly nasty dose, which reached its most powerful on Wednesday night when I was at my friend's house. It struck me the other day that I barely even remember being there, probably not so much because of the fever but because of

When asked where they wanted to vacation this year, both of my kids responded, ‘Let’s go back to D.C.’ There’s no rides, no ‘fun’ stuff to do, it’s all educational. ‘D.C.!’ was the cry. So, D.C. it was. I booked a hotel just a few minutes walking from the Washington Monument, that would put us right in the center of everything, smack in the almost-middle of the Mall.

I arranged for us to do some things that we didn’t do or get to see our last visit, 2 years ago. I reserved tickets to go up in the Washington Monument, signed us up for a tour of the Capitol Building through Senator Voinovich’s office, and mapped out directions to Union Station and other places. We walked a LOT. And I took a LOT of pictures. So, as I sort through and pick out the ones that I think turned out the best, I’ll share here. (This time, I was smart enough to take my tripod because D.C. at night is simply stunning.)

 

 

If you click the photo, you’ll open a window with a larger view.

 

 

so i just went through all of my pics from aruba and i'm kinda disappointed! i think i was way too busy sunning myself and rocking out the beach that i didn't taken enough pictures!

i'm not complaining though, believe me.

work was crazy catch up and so was catching up with my reader, but as of 10pm last night my reader was clear!

so i surprised myself a couple of times this past week, i even did a little soul searching - it's good for you! for example i didn't get drunk once. NOT ONCE. which hilariously my mom gave me shit for. while she wanted to go bar hopping i didn't want to be social with anyone but her and my sissy.

she called me lame, i call me smart.

but because of my lack of partying i have never felt so rested from a vacation in all my life. not drinking rocks! well, it will until thursday night at least.

upon arriving on the happy island we checked into our resort and my mom, sissy and i got to take in our balcony view.


coincidentally enough my cousins (grog, khaki, jenna and david) were also in aruba staying 3 resorts down from us for our first few days there. obvy this meant family fun time.

can someone say excursion?!?

we decided to head to the remote desert side of the island to search for the natural pool - while hitting a few other spots along the way.


we hopped into our two rented jeep wranglers not knowing really where we were going.

we got lost, a couple bazillion of times.

but the search for the illusive natural pool was worth the hunt. although we realized why this pool wasn't exactly marketed to tourists...... it is hard as HELL to find the damn place.

you have to do some serious bumpy and rocky terrain, huge inclines and follow barely there dirt

was i scared driving?

heck no, i laugh in the face of 4 x 4 off-roading. HA! HA! HA!

upon finally finding a mini sign stating that the natural pool is a 20 minute hike away we continue our journey - by car.

good thing, because that sign was a big fat lie.

we park the jeeps half way to where we think the pool is but end up still have about a 3 mile very hilly hike ahead of us.

it was fine, going down. up? not so much.

finally we see the pool from a cliff. my mom and khaki decide they have had enough. we were supposed to be back at the resort by noon. it was now 2:30pm and we still had a hike to the pool.

at this point they (mom and khaki) decide to just cop a squat and let the rest of us go on ahead while they watched from their perch.

now my mom being the ever so technically savvy woman tried to capture our descent on my camera.

FAIL

the following is my favorite video of my mom thinking that my camera is broken when in all reality it was just in video mode. plus, she curses in the clip and who doesn't giggle when their mom curses?!?!


i actually have FIVE more versions of the above video - just like this one. oh mommy, what would i do without you?

after we took a well deserved dip in the pool we had to hike back to the jeeps and make our trek back to the barely paved roads.

but not without a few bumps along the way.


i told you it was rocky!

FINALLY we made it back to the resort just in time to head to flying fishbone for a seaside dinner. this place was awesome, seriously.


the next day my cousins headed back to ohio and my mom sissy and i did a whole not of nothing, in the best way possible.

we ate, a lot.

we gambled, a little.

but i have realized that you can never win two days in a casino. The first night we really gambled i spent about $60 but walked out with $140. awesome right? i heart black jack.

a couple of days later we gambled again, and of course the casino took all my winnings back. sons of bitches.

oh well, its all in the name of fun.

we also played the european/south american, american or honeymooner game.

european/south american qualities
-they didn't speak engligh (duh)
-the men wore tight jean capris
-the smoked, A LOT
-the women rocked out on the beach topless
-the women didn't care how many pounds over 200 they were they still had on bikinis. WHY?!?!

american qualities
-the men wore cut off t-shirts
-baseball hats
-usually over weight
-would yell at their kids a lot

honeymooner qualities
-they either looked miserable or in love
-the brides forgot that their wedding was over and were now allowed to eat again. plate of carrots anyone?
-they had radars on for other honeymooners just like them who there would sit and talk with them for hours dissecting and comparing their perfect day

there are also two types of resort people. beach people and pool people.

i am a beach person - man, i don't like hanging out at the pool. i can do that in ohio.

the beach people are chill, reading their books and what not.

the pool people are crazy frat boys having their 23rd watered down margarita while peeing themselves sitting at the swim up pool bar.

i only got in the pool one time the entire time - i go to the ocean to pee thank you very much : )

vacation is hands down the BEST people watching.

i even enjoyed observing the poor high schoolers who were too old to really do the kid activities but too young to have any real fun. these kids would normally just sit in the lobby with their rented laptops pouting and being emo/hipsters.

onto some random pics.

um, so who cries from their balcony at a wedding for people that they don't even know? this girl!






so yeah, that's the cliff notes version of my vacation. it was a wonderful time and i hope i don't have to wait too long to go back to paradise.

sidenote: congrats to my friend julie and her husband aaron, they got married the saturday before i left for aruba in a beautiful wedding! yay them!

oh and another sidenote: i am going to be in chicago next weekend visiting some friends. i have contacted a few of you chicago bloggers for a little lunch get together that saturday afternoon - let me know if anyone else will be around!

i'm back bitches! at least in the physical sense.

i landed at the canton/akron airport at midnight last night, went to my mom's slept for about four hours, got ready for work and drove to cleveland.

i'm not tired at all.

the above statement is a lie.

my work email is in the triple digits and let's not even start with my good reader!

you can see for yourself...


979 unread items?!??!?!

damn you guys have been busy in the blog world this week!

excuse me while i dig myself out of the giant internet hole i have created for myself.

i'll post an aruba recap tonight (if my eyes stay open)

Okay stalkers out there, here's the rundown for what's going to be a looong 4-days!

After I leave work tomorrow, I'm off until Monday. God, thank you for some vacation time. Will I rest? No! Of course, I'm packed to the gills with plans.

Here's the rundown:

Tomorrow
I have a planning committee meeting with the Ohio Canal Corridor about the upcoming "Toast To The Trail." If you don't know about it, make sure you save the date. It's going to be a lot of fun. The night should be a lot of fun.

Thursday
The Indians take on the Tigers for a businessman's special. First pitch is 1:05pm. They are my two favorite teams and I get to see them at Jacobs (ahem, Progressive) Field.

Friday
I get to hang out with one of my best friends, Rebecca, at "Twilight At The Zoo". Oh, the humanity! Add Disco Inferno into the mix and there will probably be some debauchery involved.

Saturday
Get up early and be down in Wayne County, we're talkin' Sterling people for the Schorle Family Reunion. I'll eat, shake some hands, get a couple of inappropriate hugs by a couple of relatives. Don't worry, I've been through the situation with my therapist. I joke. I can't stay that long because it's Camp Krusty's on Whiskey Island. I'll spend the day with R+R, Patrick & Lisa and whomever else will be on the island for the big fundraiser for the Malachi House. Gotta support the neighborhood non-profits!

Sunday
REST -- Did I just fill up all of the days off? Relaxation, who needs it?

while you are reading this i'm currently lying on the beach in aruba (gotta love post options on blogger). i'm staying at the rui palace come visit!

so i will have no blackberry, no email, no google reader, no gchat, no voicemail and no internet.

a true vacation from all forms of communication.

honestly i'm not sure how i'm going to feel about being completely disconnected from the world.

guess we will just see if i start to twitch.

now don't miss me too much while i'm gone - to my bloggers friends, i know you have plenty of other blogs to read in my absence - but my non blogger friends...

LOOK TO THE RIGHT -------->

read some of the other fabulous bloggers while the plum is on vacation, i promise you will enjoy them, probably even get hooked like i have!

have a good week, i'll be back next monday! xoxo

Last night was the typical "party at the gate." Pug had a keg of beer he wanted to empty, and what was left of the cyzer. We fed beer to passers by on the road, saved the cyzer for ourselves. Then there was the remainder of the Kahlua, the Baileys, some cherry liquor that Devon had which could easily remove paint, some St. Germaine that Irene brought. And a bottle of chai liquor that Corun gave me. (That of course engendered many jokes about "having a taste of Chai" which of course led to choices: a kiss from Chai or a pull on the bottle of chai?) The thing that is so hard to explain to non-scadians is the easy familiarity among SCAdians. The flirting, the hand-kissing, the hugging, the courtly-love behavior, the puppy piles.

There is a level of intimacy among SCAdians that doesn't even happen among some mundane families. We sit around campfires or gates and rub each other's backs or feet or hands, we snuggle and cuddle and enjoy the warmth of human contact with people we see only once or twice a year. We hold each other's hands through crises, confide intimate details of our lives, trust each other with steel, with our our wallets, with our children.

It is hard to put into words what these people on this hill mean to me. How much I love each and everyone of them. We call each other "brother" and we mean it in all senses of the word: family, comrade in arms, child of the same parent, of the Society and the Dream.

We come from Texas, Wisconsin, Illinois, Missouri, Maryland, New York, North Carolina, Louisiana, Kentucky, Ohio. And if you added all the real time hours or days I have spent with some of these people--somewhere between 2 and 4 weeks a year for somewhere between 2 and 20+ years--it comes to mere days and weeks. But I tell you, I know them all. Some of them I have known for lifetimes and will know for lifetimes to come. We are family, not by blood, but by choice. Even those who have left the household are still with us. Corun no longer rides this path, but he still is my anda, my bredu. Lance rides in Northsheild these days, but we still count him among our own and when he was Pelicaned this week we gave (okay, inflicted upon!) him the family medallion with its chainmail burden.

Through the years we have lost brothers. Some have returned--Bojei, Teg. Some we have been lucky enough to reconnect with fortuitously--Kashra most recently! Others will never return in this lifetime, but live still in our hearts. Christopher. Moriseqti. Chinua. Kit. Dwarf. Ulrich.

This afternoon after Kuraltai we strike the Mongol set. The Tugh comes down first, then the wall and the gate. Tonight we will burn a Viking longship for Ulrich. And there will be more partying, Moritu and Pennsic staff as well. More drinking, toasting laughing, hugging, loving, and some crying, too.

And then we go seprate ways. This afternoon Bagshi leaves. After dinner so will Bryn. Tomorrow morning the Ansteorrans pull out. And Silver and I packup and head home then, too. By Sunday evening the rest will be gone. Monday there will be nothing but grass left on the hill. Like Brigadoon this will all fade into the mist, gone again until next August.

But Moritu continues. This is roleplay, yes, but it is more than just that. It is a lifestyle, a commitment, a family as well.

I love you all, Andanar.

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Today I sent in the final payment for the condo where I'll be staying in Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina, at the end of September. For some reason, I never imagined that paying for a vacation in advance could be nearly as invigorating as the vacation itself, but every step I take toward packing the car and throwing the finger at regular life makes my heart incomparably glad. It's taken

At 6 am I can tell already that the day here is going to be hot but beautiful. There is something about early mornings, though, before the heat. The sun and sky move slowly from grey to bright. The air is cool enough to make hot coffee a treat as much for the warmth of the cup as for the caffeine. I haven't finished my packing, however, and I find myself lollygagging.

No ordinary vacation, I am off to live in a ger (or yurt) among Mongols in the 12th century on the Steppes of Western Pennsylvania. Yes, it is once more time for The Pennsic War.

So my packing for Pennsic is still not done. Somewhat because I didn't get out of the office until late yesterday. Somewhat because I was still at the computer at home at 11 pm redoing some of the text in the reports that the boss needed today. And somewhat because I am at a point where Steve needs to do his bit before I can do more. I wonder sometimes if all this stuff is really worth it. Mind you, the yurt is stacked and ready to be loaded on the trailer. My trunks (way more clothing than I will need) are ready. It is the kitchen box and the coolers I need to pack. And Steve hasn't yet begun to pack his trunks. I am letting him sleep in this morning a bit longer while I putz on the computer. Neither of us seems highly motivated about Pennsic this year.

I suspect it will be late afternoon before we get on the road. Fortunately Pennsic is just across the border.

Sorry, Frog! I had hoped to make your planning meeting for next year, but it just ain't happening!

That is right. I'm heading to Charlotte to stay with two friends and another one on may down there. In order to keep myself busy, I rented two books on CD (Jennifer Weiner books) and tried to download some for free to my iPod, but it didn't work out like I thought it would - WTF! Anyway, I'm excited to listen to both of those books. Easy, summertime reading, you know?

Here's what we are going to do:

-Relax.
-Lay out.
-Maybe head east to Wilmington to tour where Dawson's Creed was filmed. (OMG - I was in love with this show in high school. I had my own version of Dawson, except the fact that it was stictly platonic.)
-Visit some bars/restaurants/noteworthy Charlotte places.
-Maybe make ourselves do two-a-days like our high school volleyball days
-Trying not to check my e-mail. (So not going to happen.)

Hello everyone,

 

As I mentioned in my newsletter, one of the best things about going on vacation is coming home. It is great to be home from my 10 day Caribbean vacation and I cannot imagine this winter if we had not had it.

 

When I vacation, or travel or do just about anything I am usually out to improve myself, to grow to develop, to gain insight, but on this vacation I was determined to do nothing of the sort. This vacation I was just going to CHILL, not answer emails or check my voicemail and I was very clear that I had no intention of doing anything that even resembled thinking at all.

 

This was no small task and despite my best efforts I did have a couple of epiphanies but for the most part I would say my mission was accomplished.

 

One of my greatest vacation satisfactions was finding a book to read for my adventures.  “Eat Pray Love” kept jumping out at me, in the airport, at the Walgreens in San Juan, but to read that would go against all of my new vacation principles. I WILL NOT DEVELOP MYSELF! And so it was the tantalizing cover of “The Other Boleyn Girl” and its stunning portrait of some beautiful man (Henry the 8th apparently) with his arms draped around Natalie Portman and Charlotte Johansson, that grabbed me and asked me to take it cruising.

 

They had me at page 3 when the 13 year old Mary narrates a beheading while referencing her marriage which had occurred the year previous. Combine 12 year old brides, the politics and grandeur of the English court, the role of women as pawns in their families’ quest for status and power and my new found awareness that the church of England was founded so that a king could get rid of his wife of 20+ years and marry some girl who might give him a male heir and I had 700 pages of guilty pleasure that lasted all the way to the president’s club lounge on the trip back to Ohio.

 

Many of my favorite moments from the trip included coming back to the cabin after a full day of activity (we were in a balcony suite on a princess cruise) opening the sliding doors to our deck and the ocean, climbing into bed with the sun streaming in and the sound of the waves in the background and reading or napping until dinner. YUM!

 

This was our first full fledged vacation with another couple and it was the perfect arrangement.  Our dear friends Scott and Natalie joined us for 2 days of chill-time on the beach in San Juan and a 7 day cruise of Antigua, St Thomas, St Lucia, Barbados and Tortola. We had adjoining balconies that we could open to each other which kinda made it like a sleep over.

 

One of the many perks of cruising is the 24 hour complimentary room service, so we started each morning with fruit and coffee delivered to the balcony for a little early morning lounging before we hit shore or went for a full fledged breakfast.  Eating was WAY too big of a past time on the ship but for one week a year it was very fun – between the room service and the pizza stand and the 5 course nightly dinners that are all part of your package it was pretty much 7 days of overeating, feeling uncomfortable, swearing it will be different tomorrow and then doing it all over again.

 

Our first island was Barbados and it was one of those experiences where you get you are not in Kansas any more. I found the whole thing a little unsettling as we were driven through town and witnessed poverty along with the types of scenes you might see in big-city slums. Even at the beach my husband was solicited 3 times to buy drugs, right among the little tiki bars at 11:00 in the morning.  The water was that gorgeous aqua blue and we had a blast playing in the waves, but all in all, my gut feeling was that I was not safe and I will probably not return.

 

All of the islands were beautiful, and all of them left you with that subtle reminder that much of the rest of the world lives quite differently than the average North American. At one point I did the math to realize that the cost of our trip was several year’s wages for many of the people we witnessed on our travels.

 

We went Zip lining in the rain forest at Antigua – for those who are unfamiliar, zip lining involves a hefty harness, cable stretched across substantial gorges and platforms situated on either side of the gorge from which to launch.  It was way-fun, one of those things that you know if something goes wrong then you are totally toast but barring that it is nothing but pure exhilaration.

 

 

We went dolphin watching in St Lucia which was fabulous. To see what these animals can do, the way they launch themselves feet out of the water, they way they would race the boat and use our wake as an amusement park.  It was stunning. Not to mention I got to see flying fish -  And I am not talking jumping fish that look like they are flying, I am talking FLYING FISH. They would launch themselves away from the boat and go for 100’s of feet, looking like a dragon fly or humming bird, skipping across the waves.  It was like watching evolution at work, leaving me to question, are those really flying fish or swimming birds? Very cool!

 

Another highlight was a day we spent on a virtually deserted beach that Jeff and his family used to frequent when he was a child. It is so fun to watch him return to his youth, he has such an affinity for the place.  We all loved the quiet, calm bay, the white sand, the snack gal and drink guy. It was like owning an island for the day.

 

Other highlights - Jeff loved hanging by the pool on the ship, we watched a movie on the deck at night in lounge chairs, Natalie and both got massages in cabanas on the deck, and after our nightly dinner that usually had us closing down the dining room at 11:30, it would be off to bed to rest up for another day of play.

 

Perhaps the greatest accomplishment of the trip – other than finishing my 700 pages of delight -was for Jeff and I to identify our vacation preferences.  Jeff was our travel guide, planning most of the excursions, making sure we caught ferry’s, waking us up at 7 am to make sure we did not miss a moment of the action.  As it turns out, while he was very good at this, it was a bit more responsibility that he really needs on a vacation, and as for me, “7 am” and “vacation” should never be uttered in the same sentence.  And so next time, we will likely find a quieter spot, with less to do, less activity, less food, and less things to see.  All I really need is the sunshine, a drink, a good book and great company and I’m set.

 

When I get a chance I will share about the unexpected epiphanies, one which was delivered when I swallowed about half of the ocean while wave jumping and the other from a quiet moment resting at the spa pool while a lovely woman brought me drinks and cool towels. 

 

But for now, I just wanted to share the basics since so many wanted to know.  It is not so much to tell but I am grateful that we have the opportunity to take the time and the resources to fund a little sun just in the nick of time.

 

I love you.  Enjoy the coming of spring and the lengthening of the days.

 

Joelle

 

 

P.S.  While this blog entry does not do it justice, I had to mention that Jeff took amazing pictures and found great joy with his new camera.  The picture of the bed at the top was a cabana at our hotel in San Juan and I think this image is the most beautiful creation.  Hobbies and art a very good thing. I look forward to sharing more of his creations with you.  HUGS!

 

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Now a while back I mentioned this friend's wedding, which she is having on a beach somewhere and which is also fraught with emotional landmines. The wedding is next weekend and I decided to send her a very nice card with a very heartfelt letter and graciously RSVP no fucking way. This of course has little to do with her or how I feel about her, because I love her and she's been pretty good to me

Yesterday I got my nails and toes done kind of on the spur of the moment. I even sprang for the good pedicure, the one that takes an hour because they scrub your legs with the yummy-smelling salt scrubby stuff and massage lotion into your feet and put hot towels over them. The whole experience makes me so happy that it reminds me of that part in I'd Do Anything where they little girl shrieks "I