Because I am sick and eating like a pig. Be sure to read the last post.
I sat by a teenage girl on the plane. She coughed all over me from Santa Ana to Salt Lake. Car trip home was a nightmare. Poured with rain the whole entire drive. Getting up that canyon out of Salt Lake driving blind was awful. We were both exhausted when we left CA and about dead by the time we got home.
We arrived here at 6pm. Had rained here every day we were gone. Lawn was a foot tall. House smelled like cat pee. I don't know why. Cats and dog had been in dog jail for a week. I immediately began doing laundry so Mark could leave again at 6am for a three day trial. Took us all eve to get unpacked and him repacked. We went to bed about 11pm. Neither one of us could sleep. I am having hot flashes from hell. We got up at 5am and he left at 6am to drive 115 miles. I felt so bad for him. He looked haggard. The trial started at 8:30.
I slept in a chair after he left until eight. I then got up, showered and drove 30 miles to get the animals. Still pouring rain of course. Cost almost $400 to board them for a week. Mollie was wild. Like when we first got her. She jumped on me and scratched the heck out of my chest. Cats were more laid back. Ignored me completely. We all got good and wet loading up. Mollie whined and the cats meowed the whole way home. I cried.
Upon arrival and after more crazy running around Mollie finally settled down. Socks hid in the basement and Whomper pooped on the kitchen floor. I put in another load of laundry and sat back down in my chair. I woke up two hours later. I was ringy and removed, like I was functioning at slow motion under water. I switched the laundry around and in this condition I loaded the dog and drove to the post office to get the mail. Brought it home in a box. I put it down on the kitchen table (where most of it still resides) and went back to the chair to sleep. Woke up later and drove thirty miles to take care of a friend's cat. They are also on vacation. After cat duty I went to the grocery store. Are alarm bells ringing in your heads? I bought cookies, ice cream, pizza, frozen dinners, bagels and strawberries. I drove thirty miles home and after another laundry rotation, began to eat. I ate a whole plastic thing of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. That turned out to be ten cookies the size of muffins. Then I had half of a quart of ice cream. A friend called and asked me if I would help her move the next day. I said yes. The dog and I then went to bed. Mark woke me up to tell me how the first day of the trial had been. I vaguely recall talking to him. I woke up with nasty hot flashes off and on all night. Had terrible dreams about taking a shower with a bunch of horses in a box car. Gad.
Got up next morning at 9:30. Dog was nuts. She ran around the yard for half an hour solid. Ate bagels and strawberries for breakfast and showered. Still felt weird, and exhausted. Loaded up dog and drove thirty miles to friend's house. Friend's big house. U-Haul and our minister's wife's car were parked outside. No other cars. This was a surprise as a whole crew of men were supposed to be there. They never arrived. Three women over forty, one tired husband and a six year old moved and loaded furniture all day. I was a blithering idiot. I packed and carried and talked in a fog. I left at about 5:30 pm. I then drove to vacation friend's house and fed the cat. Then I drove home. I ate a whole big pizza, a bagel and the rest of the half gallon of ice cream. I passed out in the chair. Mark woke me up later and I talked to him. The dog and I went to bed. I slept in my clothes.
Got up at 6:30 to shower to be at the church for my first yoga class at 8am. I arrived first to set up stuff. I moved a couple of rows of pewchairs and set up the music. Yoga Jan and friend PW (preacher's wife) showed up. PW was as sore as me. She should have been incapacitated as she and the tired husband moved most of the furniture. Jan lead us in a wonderfully painful session. I stretched muscles I didn't even know I had. The relaxation thing at the end was priceless. I am looking forward to next week. We moved the pews back into place and all left. I drove to friend's house to help finish up with the moving and clean. We worked until about 1pm and then quit. She fed me a ham sandwich and then on my own I ate four of her brownies. Her little son really hated me for that. I drove to vacation friend's house and fed the cat. Mark called and said the jury had come back sooner than anticipated and he would be home in a couple of hours. I drove home and made the bed and did more laundry and did the dishes. The damn cats had pooped and peed on the the kitchen floor again. I cleaned that up and laid down on the couch to because I couldn't stand up. Mark woke me up when he got home. I couldn't talk and was so dizzy I couldn't get up. I cried some more. He made me some tea and tucked me in and I slept for the rest of the afternoon and evening. I ate a whole roll of those refrigerator biscuits when I woke up and then went back to bed.
Happy end of story. I slept all day yesterday. Mark went to store and got some real food (soup and juice and jello) and that made me feel better. He figured out why the cats were defecating in the kitchen and the house smelled of cat pee. I had forgotten to clean their boxes. Oh well. He took the dog out to play. He mowed the lawn. I am better today. I am not as ringy and my throat hurts less. I feel like I weigh a thousand pounds though. All those carbs have blown me up like a balloon. I have to take a shower and drive over to feed the vacation cat and that is all I am going to do today. Gad what a weird week.
Am I glad to be home? Mebbee. Love Bea Oh, and that athlete's foot I got while getting the facial is clearing up nicely. Later.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
There and Back Again
It is 3am and I am sick as a dog. Hot flashes, throat hurts and muscle aches all over. Have been thinking about my trip and the fallout from it. How valuable is each moment of our existence?
I did not want to make this trip. I went because Mark wanted me to go and I did not want to disappoint him. I made him pay every step of the way. I am not proud of that. He was a dear and I was a bitch. Phooey. This trip stripped me to the bone.
Long minutes spent waiting for Mark in the lobby of the Marriott with no plans, no reading material, and no food allowed me to face myself. It is a self I am not too fond of. Heck, let's call a tuning fork a road grader, I am miserable. I hate regrets. And I am looking into a bucket load of them. Not regret for the grand missteps in my life, those I look back on with some pride. Took a lot of risk to be that stupid. No the regrets that are currently plaguing me are the little foxes. They are spoiling the vines of my life. The "yeses" when I want to say "no," the "noes" that should be yes, the inaction that could be movement, the action that could be rest. (Just let the dog outside and I could hear the neighbor's pigs snoring. Is very quiet here.) My Marriott meditations showed me a life of much self induced misery.
I have thought about and written out my life priorities before but not as real attainable goals. They were more pie in the sky wishy sort of vague longings. I did not really believe I could do anything about making my dreams come true. God determined my fate and I was just sort of along for the ride. Wrong. This trip has made me see that unless I gather up my courage and energy my life might just fade into pointless oblivion. Yes I believe if I died I would go to Heaven, but I don't want to waste the time I have been given in the present waiting for future Grace. And dear friends I have been wasting my precious minutes hours and days in fear and pointless endeavor.
Life is about loving one another. It is about driving 47 miles in rush hour traffic to meet someone you have never met. It is about cutting your nervous tired husband some slack. It is about not eating so much sugar you pass out. It is about coping with dog and cat dirt because of the joy they bring to you. It is about helping a friend move 24 hours after you have returned from a trip because you love her. It is about being grateful to God that you were up at 3am to hear the pigs snoring.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
P.S. Helen post away. As long as you don't post that picture where look like I should be wearing a stocking cap lined with tin foil I will be okay.
I did not want to make this trip. I went because Mark wanted me to go and I did not want to disappoint him. I made him pay every step of the way. I am not proud of that. He was a dear and I was a bitch. Phooey. This trip stripped me to the bone.
Long minutes spent waiting for Mark in the lobby of the Marriott with no plans, no reading material, and no food allowed me to face myself. It is a self I am not too fond of. Heck, let's call a tuning fork a road grader, I am miserable. I hate regrets. And I am looking into a bucket load of them. Not regret for the grand missteps in my life, those I look back on with some pride. Took a lot of risk to be that stupid. No the regrets that are currently plaguing me are the little foxes. They are spoiling the vines of my life. The "yeses" when I want to say "no," the "noes" that should be yes, the inaction that could be movement, the action that could be rest. (Just let the dog outside and I could hear the neighbor's pigs snoring. Is very quiet here.) My Marriott meditations showed me a life of much self induced misery.
I have thought about and written out my life priorities before but not as real attainable goals. They were more pie in the sky wishy sort of vague longings. I did not really believe I could do anything about making my dreams come true. God determined my fate and I was just sort of along for the ride. Wrong. This trip has made me see that unless I gather up my courage and energy my life might just fade into pointless oblivion. Yes I believe if I died I would go to Heaven, but I don't want to waste the time I have been given in the present waiting for future Grace. And dear friends I have been wasting my precious minutes hours and days in fear and pointless endeavor.
Life is about loving one another. It is about driving 47 miles in rush hour traffic to meet someone you have never met. It is about cutting your nervous tired husband some slack. It is about not eating so much sugar you pass out. It is about coping with dog and cat dirt because of the joy they bring to you. It is about helping a friend move 24 hours after you have returned from a trip because you love her. It is about being grateful to God that you were up at 3am to hear the pigs snoring.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
P.S. Helen post away. As long as you don't post that picture where look like I should be wearing a stocking cap lined with tin foil I will be okay.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Helen
Drove a million miles to meet us in Friday night traffic, and I am grateful. Was a treat to see one of my blog buddies face to face. In the wilds of Wyoming it is sometimes hard to believe you all exist. Not so hard to believe here in paradise. Miracles are possible.
I am down today. I am tired today. I want to go home today. I miss my dog, cats and my isolated home today. I am well and truly out of my comfort zone. I wouldn't change a thing.
Meeting Helen was an eye opener for me. She is as kind and attractive as she seems online. She is also accomplished, cultured, savvy and brave. Her life has been, and is full of interesting people, places and experiences. I envy her internal freedom. I asked her where this ability to go out and meet life came from. I am not sure I received a direct explanation. I did get an indirect explanation. She was talking about attending Burning Man every year and how freeing was that experience. She spoke of a lack of boundaries and free form creativity. Called to something deep within me, which I squelch at every opportunity. I was taught that that upwelling of limitless thinking was sinful in the extreme. I am not talking about the abandonment of boundaries, that is for emerging teenagers and criminals, I am talking about the embodiment of...hope I guess. No one around me believed hope was a good thing. It was silly and dangerous. Hope was limited to a few privileged people who had the resources to dream. Po people don't dream big.
I think the message of Christianity is to dream big. I think that has always been the message of Christ. Limitless Heaven is offered to earth bound sinners. The mystics understood and understand the message. And some of the Helen's. And maybe someday, some of the Lynn's.
Turns out my funny colored clothes are the poor woman's version of "resort ware." I did not know about resort ware. Apparently you wear it at resorts. Anaheim is not a resort and everyone here seems to be dressed for a military funeral. Black, brown, grey and muddy colors are the order of day. Mark says the way he finds me in the crowds is by looking for my pastel colored jacket.
We are going on a beach tour this afternoon. We are going home tomorrow. I am glad I came but it will take me a while to regain my footing. But maybe it will be new footing.
See you at home. Love Bea
I am down today. I am tired today. I want to go home today. I miss my dog, cats and my isolated home today. I am well and truly out of my comfort zone. I wouldn't change a thing.
Meeting Helen was an eye opener for me. She is as kind and attractive as she seems online. She is also accomplished, cultured, savvy and brave. Her life has been, and is full of interesting people, places and experiences. I envy her internal freedom. I asked her where this ability to go out and meet life came from. I am not sure I received a direct explanation. I did get an indirect explanation. She was talking about attending Burning Man every year and how freeing was that experience. She spoke of a lack of boundaries and free form creativity. Called to something deep within me, which I squelch at every opportunity. I was taught that that upwelling of limitless thinking was sinful in the extreme. I am not talking about the abandonment of boundaries, that is for emerging teenagers and criminals, I am talking about the embodiment of...hope I guess. No one around me believed hope was a good thing. It was silly and dangerous. Hope was limited to a few privileged people who had the resources to dream. Po people don't dream big.
I think the message of Christianity is to dream big. I think that has always been the message of Christ. Limitless Heaven is offered to earth bound sinners. The mystics understood and understand the message. And some of the Helen's. And maybe someday, some of the Lynn's.
Turns out my funny colored clothes are the poor woman's version of "resort ware." I did not know about resort ware. Apparently you wear it at resorts. Anaheim is not a resort and everyone here seems to be dressed for a military funeral. Black, brown, grey and muddy colors are the order of day. Mark says the way he finds me in the crowds is by looking for my pastel colored jacket.
We are going on a beach tour this afternoon. We are going home tomorrow. I am glad I came but it will take me a while to regain my footing. But maybe it will be new footing.
See you at home. Love Bea
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I'm Here
This will be quick as I am freezing to death in the hotel's computer room. They could hang meat in here.
I have talked to the "famous" Helen. She and I conversed whilst I was sitting outside at Bubba Gumps eating shrimp. Helen says this could have killed me. Taking to her was fun. Way fun. We will make contact Friday for dinner. I can't wait.
I am trying to figure out how to use the bus and Amtrak systems. Not as easy as advertised. We used ART (Anaheim Transport System) last evening. I spit on their system. We sat sitting for a total of two hours waiting for them to pick up and deliver us. I almost froze to death. Where is the darn sunshine? I thought it never rained in southern California.
The trip thru Salt Lake was a nightmare. Poured with rain, road construction out the wazoo and we got lost. Mentor Mary says a trip is not complete unless you get lost in Salt Lake City. We are batting a thousand. Plane trip was fun with the exception of the security check. The snake line took us forty minutes. The revolving door scan deal was a trip. Finding a place to put my shoes back on was exciting. I almost had to sit on some one's knee. Our concourse was outside and our plane was small. WE GOT TO SIT TOGETHER. Mark felt bad and fixed the seats just before we left. Hurrah. We sat behind two little girls. One was terrified and screamed and sobbed for the first fifteen minutes of the trip. The other girl was quiet as the grave until we left the ground whereupon she exclaimed in an awestruck voice "we are in the air." Made me cry. How did we earth bound creatures get so blase as to relax in out plane easy chairs and visit while we are leaving the ground? Is a mystery.
Okay I have to walk to the convention center and meet Mark for lunch. Looks like we will get to have lunch together every day. Yea. I need my fingerless gloves.
I will keep you posted as to my adventures. Knowing you all are out there reading has spurred me on to have some. Take care.
Love Bea.
I have talked to the "famous" Helen. She and I conversed whilst I was sitting outside at Bubba Gumps eating shrimp. Helen says this could have killed me. Taking to her was fun. Way fun. We will make contact Friday for dinner. I can't wait.
I am trying to figure out how to use the bus and Amtrak systems. Not as easy as advertised. We used ART (Anaheim Transport System) last evening. I spit on their system. We sat sitting for a total of two hours waiting for them to pick up and deliver us. I almost froze to death. Where is the darn sunshine? I thought it never rained in southern California.
The trip thru Salt Lake was a nightmare. Poured with rain, road construction out the wazoo and we got lost. Mentor Mary says a trip is not complete unless you get lost in Salt Lake City. We are batting a thousand. Plane trip was fun with the exception of the security check. The snake line took us forty minutes. The revolving door scan deal was a trip. Finding a place to put my shoes back on was exciting. I almost had to sit on some one's knee. Our concourse was outside and our plane was small. WE GOT TO SIT TOGETHER. Mark felt bad and fixed the seats just before we left. Hurrah. We sat behind two little girls. One was terrified and screamed and sobbed for the first fifteen minutes of the trip. The other girl was quiet as the grave until we left the ground whereupon she exclaimed in an awestruck voice "we are in the air." Made me cry. How did we earth bound creatures get so blase as to relax in out plane easy chairs and visit while we are leaving the ground? Is a mystery.
Okay I have to walk to the convention center and meet Mark for lunch. Looks like we will get to have lunch together every day. Yea. I need my fingerless gloves.
I will keep you posted as to my adventures. Knowing you all are out there reading has spurred me on to have some. Take care.
Love Bea.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Comfort Zone
I guess I am going. I decided today. A little late I know as we leave on Monday. This damn trip has become I place I hope never to re-visit.
Mark and I are speaking again. After almost twenty years of marriage it was a painful procedure for us to confront the vast differences in our priorities. I value security and Mark values adventure. I want to own, Mark wants to rent. I want dog and cats, Mark wants a pet rock. I want a minivan and Mark wants a sports car. I want to camp, Mark wants to stay in hotels. I want to save, Mark is not afraid of debt. I want a computer for work, Mark wants it to play games. I am a planner and Mark wants to fly by the seat of his pants. I am detail oriented and Mark thinks in broad strokes. I am an adult and Mark is a child...with a real bitchy Mommy.
Like most married couples we are fairly opposite in personality. I believe God put us together to rub the rough edges off one another. After the past week we are both much smoother.
I talked much to Mentor Mary about the trip. She acknowledged my fear of going into debt in perilous economic times. She acknowledged my anger at having to choose between the trip and much needed necessities, i.e. glasses and dental work. She acknowledged my frustration at Mark's unwillingness to let go of something he wants. After I had vented for hours she gently asked me, "Honey how much do you value being vulnerable?" Crap, crap, crap. Phooey. She had me.
I value being vulnerable. I just refuse to do it. And that is why I eat. I am a fear based prudent prig. But I don't want to be. I want to be an adventurer too. Mark is a County Prosecutor who wins his cases. He is not irresponsible in his work life. At home he lets me take care of absolutely everything because it is easier to not cross me. I control with an iron fist. Lest in any way I should be vulnerable. He is not a spendthrift and yes we can pay off any debt we incur. Yes he has had lessons to learn here also, but I cannot learn his lessons. I can only learn mine. And my lesson about this f*#^ing trip is to let go of control and be vulnerable.
So I'm going. I will sit by myself on the airplane. I will stay in an off brand hotel. I will wear funny clothes because they fit. I will eat alone. I will spend some money so Mark can see some of the things I have already seen. I will call Helen even if she is way thinner than me. I will have a dad gummed adventure. I will be vulnerable.
Take care and I will be back in a week. Love Bea
Mark and I are speaking again. After almost twenty years of marriage it was a painful procedure for us to confront the vast differences in our priorities. I value security and Mark values adventure. I want to own, Mark wants to rent. I want dog and cats, Mark wants a pet rock. I want a minivan and Mark wants a sports car. I want to camp, Mark wants to stay in hotels. I want to save, Mark is not afraid of debt. I want a computer for work, Mark wants it to play games. I am a planner and Mark wants to fly by the seat of his pants. I am detail oriented and Mark thinks in broad strokes. I am an adult and Mark is a child...with a real bitchy Mommy.
Like most married couples we are fairly opposite in personality. I believe God put us together to rub the rough edges off one another. After the past week we are both much smoother.
I talked much to Mentor Mary about the trip. She acknowledged my fear of going into debt in perilous economic times. She acknowledged my anger at having to choose between the trip and much needed necessities, i.e. glasses and dental work. She acknowledged my frustration at Mark's unwillingness to let go of something he wants. After I had vented for hours she gently asked me, "Honey how much do you value being vulnerable?" Crap, crap, crap. Phooey. She had me.
I value being vulnerable. I just refuse to do it. And that is why I eat. I am a fear based prudent prig. But I don't want to be. I want to be an adventurer too. Mark is a County Prosecutor who wins his cases. He is not irresponsible in his work life. At home he lets me take care of absolutely everything because it is easier to not cross me. I control with an iron fist. Lest in any way I should be vulnerable. He is not a spendthrift and yes we can pay off any debt we incur. Yes he has had lessons to learn here also, but I cannot learn his lessons. I can only learn mine. And my lesson about this f*#^ing trip is to let go of control and be vulnerable.
So I'm going. I will sit by myself on the airplane. I will stay in an off brand hotel. I will wear funny clothes because they fit. I will eat alone. I will spend some money so Mark can see some of the things I have already seen. I will call Helen even if she is way thinner than me. I will have a dad gummed adventure. I will be vulnerable.
Take care and I will be back in a week. Love Bea
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Fantods
As in, I have the fantods. I am anxious and jumpy and irritable. This trip to California is making me nuts. I knew Mark relied on me to make life function but until this trip I did not realize how much. Neither did he. We knew months ago about the trip. I occasionally asked about the arrangements and he assured me all was being taken care of. As we did not have ticket confirmation, room reservations or registration info for the conference I was dubious, and said so. He said I was a control freak and could not relax and let someone else take charge. This is a too true observation so I attempted to forget about it. Yet still something niggled at me.
I do not want to take this trip. I don't want to spend the money and I am fat. I will be fat and broke in the vacation paradise of the tanned and thin. I do not have any summer clothes that fit and I don't want to spend money on more. The clothes I do have are just dumb. Stacy and Clinton would have a hay day with me. Peg legged elastic waist jeans and plaid camp shirts. And big ole sneakers. And a sweater jacket with lawn chairs printed all over it. (I look like some one's grandmother.) And I have to stuff all of this in a suitcase the size of a breadbox. So I am anxious. On Tuesday to calm myself down I began inquiring in earnest about "the plans." You guessed it. Mark had relied on someone else to make all the arrangements. And she didn't. He was not registered for the conference, had no room reservations and no plane tickets.
After many panicked preparations and much money agony we now have very expensive plane seats...in which we cannot even sit together. He is in the front and I am in the back in the middle. As I haven't flown in 17 years and am worried about all the changes, not the least of which is the seat belt fitting, this just pisses me off royal. Instead of flying out of Jackson (close) we have to drive all the way to Salt Lake (far) and stay all night (expensive). Of course the Marriott and Hilton where the conference is being held are full so we are staying three "city blocks" away in some hotel I have never heard of. I has been years but as I remember "city blocks" are much larger than our small town blocks. Mark will have to leave well before 8am and won't arrive back at the hotel until after 5pm, leaving me marooned in there for eight solid hours. We can't even eat together at noon because all the seminars he was planning to attend are jam packed. The only open ones are during the lunch hours. I was going on this trip so we could spend some time together. The conference was presented to me as having a lot of open spaces in which we could sight see. Not. He might as well be at work. I am so mad I could spit. I am not a sit around the pool kind of a gal, if this new place even has a pool. I DO NOT want to spend eight hours in a high rise hotel room with no egress to the outside. I do not have the money to go shopping, or get spa treatments, or do much sight seeing. What the heck am I going to do for five days?
By the by, I can't stop eating. I was down to 193 then came the news about the non-registration and I promptly went back up to 199. I do mean promptly. I have gained five pounds in the past three days. sigh
Why don't I just stay home you ask? Let Mark stew alone in his self induced mess? Because he wants me to go. Really wants me to go. He says he will eat beans when we get home and will wear ragged clothes and ride his bike to work. But please won't I go. It's no fun without me. PHOOEY.
Helen prepare yourself, I'm coming. I will be the nervous plaid grandmother who looks madder than a wet hen. Phooey.
Bea
I do not want to take this trip. I don't want to spend the money and I am fat. I will be fat and broke in the vacation paradise of the tanned and thin. I do not have any summer clothes that fit and I don't want to spend money on more. The clothes I do have are just dumb. Stacy and Clinton would have a hay day with me. Peg legged elastic waist jeans and plaid camp shirts. And big ole sneakers. And a sweater jacket with lawn chairs printed all over it. (I look like some one's grandmother.) And I have to stuff all of this in a suitcase the size of a breadbox. So I am anxious. On Tuesday to calm myself down I began inquiring in earnest about "the plans." You guessed it. Mark had relied on someone else to make all the arrangements. And she didn't. He was not registered for the conference, had no room reservations and no plane tickets.
After many panicked preparations and much money agony we now have very expensive plane seats...in which we cannot even sit together. He is in the front and I am in the back in the middle. As I haven't flown in 17 years and am worried about all the changes, not the least of which is the seat belt fitting, this just pisses me off royal. Instead of flying out of Jackson (close) we have to drive all the way to Salt Lake (far) and stay all night (expensive). Of course the Marriott and Hilton where the conference is being held are full so we are staying three "city blocks" away in some hotel I have never heard of. I has been years but as I remember "city blocks" are much larger than our small town blocks. Mark will have to leave well before 8am and won't arrive back at the hotel until after 5pm, leaving me marooned in there for eight solid hours. We can't even eat together at noon because all the seminars he was planning to attend are jam packed. The only open ones are during the lunch hours. I was going on this trip so we could spend some time together. The conference was presented to me as having a lot of open spaces in which we could sight see. Not. He might as well be at work. I am so mad I could spit. I am not a sit around the pool kind of a gal, if this new place even has a pool. I DO NOT want to spend eight hours in a high rise hotel room with no egress to the outside. I do not have the money to go shopping, or get spa treatments, or do much sight seeing. What the heck am I going to do for five days?
By the by, I can't stop eating. I was down to 193 then came the news about the non-registration and I promptly went back up to 199. I do mean promptly. I have gained five pounds in the past three days. sigh
Why don't I just stay home you ask? Let Mark stew alone in his self induced mess? Because he wants me to go. Really wants me to go. He says he will eat beans when we get home and will wear ragged clothes and ride his bike to work. But please won't I go. It's no fun without me. PHOOEY.
Helen prepare yourself, I'm coming. I will be the nervous plaid grandmother who looks madder than a wet hen. Phooey.
Bea
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
All's Well...
On Saturday of our Yurt adventure we got up early and walked through the wetlands again. I had never seen live ducks like Daffy Duck. Completely black little ducks with bright yellow bills and feet. Herds of them. Unfortunately none of them spoke.
It was still raining and I had another massage scheduled at noon. After breakfast, to kill time until the massaging hour, we decided to drive around and see the local country. We headed south toward Utah. I am from farm country and do admire a well tended piece of ground. I was in hog heaven this whole excursion. All the farms were down on the valley floor and the houses overlooked them from the sides of the hills. These were old farms. Big mature trees and lush lawns around hundred year old houses and barns. If you plunked me down on one of those places I could be happy until the end of my days. Along the road we also stopped to see several historical sites. We learned about the Bear River Massacre, the prehistoric emptying of Lake Bonneville through Red Rock Pass and read several markers put up by Mormon families in honor of their homesteading ancestors. While we did all this it rained steadily. By the time we returned to the campgrounds I was sopping wet and frozen. I had a nice soak and then went in to have Mark's massage. I had scheduled one for each of us. He chickened out. Said he was not going to have some strange woman "rubbing" him. Too bad for him.
Now comes the not fun part of the trip. We skipped lunch because it was getting late and we wanted to get to Pocatello for a Wal-Mart run. We were going to eat there. We never did. And still it rained.
I hate Wal-Mart. I think they suck oxygen and joy out of the stores. After I have been in there for awhile I get woozy and mad. I hate myself and everyone in my vicinity. Mark walks behind me and pats my butt like you would do to a horse to urge it forward. This just makes me madder. Every three or four months we go into a big town to go to Wal-Mart. We were past due and out of everything. We spent three and a half hours in there. With no lunch, oxygen or joy. Two carts full of stuff later we finally left. We stuffed the car up to the gills. And then we proceeded to have a huge fight. A real donnybrook. I was hungry and tired and frustrated about spending a fortune on toilet paper and hoses and window shades. Mark was hungry and mad about spending our vacation time buying laundry soap, Swiffer Dusters and cans of garbanzo beans. The fight was about where to eat lunch. We never did eat. After the accusations and hollering were done we drove back to the campground in stony silence....
To a pre-scheduled romantic steak dinner for two in the campground grill to celebrate our anniversary. Ho, ho, ho. We arrived just in the nick of time, silent and wet, to the sweetest dinner anyone has ever prepared for us. They had cordoned off one end of the grill dining room and set up the table. Cloth table covering, napkins and candles. The lights were turned down low and soft music was playing. We were the only people in the dining room. Our table was against the floor to ceiling windows and over looked the hot springs. The springs were steaming because of the rain. The whole world was bathed in twilight fog. Could not have been more romantic. We were served a cocktail while out dinner was being prepared. The setting, the kindness and the alcohol had the intended affect. I started, "I behaved like an ass, again. I am very sorry. I hate Wal-Mart and I know not to skip meals." Mark's turn, "No I am the one to say sorry. I am not a twelve year old boy and I know we needed all that stuff. I was hungry before we even left the campground. Next time we will eat first, and then tackle Wal-Mart." We had another wonderful meal. We took our cheesecake back to the yurt and ate it after our final soak of the day. Then we turned in and had dessert.
I will write about the books next time. Take care. Love Bea
It was still raining and I had another massage scheduled at noon. After breakfast, to kill time until the massaging hour, we decided to drive around and see the local country. We headed south toward Utah. I am from farm country and do admire a well tended piece of ground. I was in hog heaven this whole excursion. All the farms were down on the valley floor and the houses overlooked them from the sides of the hills. These were old farms. Big mature trees and lush lawns around hundred year old houses and barns. If you plunked me down on one of those places I could be happy until the end of my days. Along the road we also stopped to see several historical sites. We learned about the Bear River Massacre, the prehistoric emptying of Lake Bonneville through Red Rock Pass and read several markers put up by Mormon families in honor of their homesteading ancestors. While we did all this it rained steadily. By the time we returned to the campgrounds I was sopping wet and frozen. I had a nice soak and then went in to have Mark's massage. I had scheduled one for each of us. He chickened out. Said he was not going to have some strange woman "rubbing" him. Too bad for him.
Now comes the not fun part of the trip. We skipped lunch because it was getting late and we wanted to get to Pocatello for a Wal-Mart run. We were going to eat there. We never did. And still it rained.
I hate Wal-Mart. I think they suck oxygen and joy out of the stores. After I have been in there for awhile I get woozy and mad. I hate myself and everyone in my vicinity. Mark walks behind me and pats my butt like you would do to a horse to urge it forward. This just makes me madder. Every three or four months we go into a big town to go to Wal-Mart. We were past due and out of everything. We spent three and a half hours in there. With no lunch, oxygen or joy. Two carts full of stuff later we finally left. We stuffed the car up to the gills. And then we proceeded to have a huge fight. A real donnybrook. I was hungry and tired and frustrated about spending a fortune on toilet paper and hoses and window shades. Mark was hungry and mad about spending our vacation time buying laundry soap, Swiffer Dusters and cans of garbanzo beans. The fight was about where to eat lunch. We never did eat. After the accusations and hollering were done we drove back to the campground in stony silence....
To a pre-scheduled romantic steak dinner for two in the campground grill to celebrate our anniversary. Ho, ho, ho. We arrived just in the nick of time, silent and wet, to the sweetest dinner anyone has ever prepared for us. They had cordoned off one end of the grill dining room and set up the table. Cloth table covering, napkins and candles. The lights were turned down low and soft music was playing. We were the only people in the dining room. Our table was against the floor to ceiling windows and over looked the hot springs. The springs were steaming because of the rain. The whole world was bathed in twilight fog. Could not have been more romantic. We were served a cocktail while out dinner was being prepared. The setting, the kindness and the alcohol had the intended affect. I started, "I behaved like an ass, again. I am very sorry. I hate Wal-Mart and I know not to skip meals." Mark's turn, "No I am the one to say sorry. I am not a twelve year old boy and I know we needed all that stuff. I was hungry before we even left the campground. Next time we will eat first, and then tackle Wal-Mart." We had another wonderful meal. We took our cheesecake back to the yurt and ate it after our final soak of the day. Then we turned in and had dessert.
I will write about the books next time. Take care. Love Bea
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