Tag Archives: vacation

I Feel Strongly About Saturn

I’ve always been a proponent of vacations. Every vacation I ever took left me with a newfound sense of zen, an inspiration to tweak things in my life, and an altered way of looking at my surroundings.

I just got back from a three week road trip (tour de South) with the boy, who is twelve years old- that splendid minute between childhood and adolescence. He still sleeps with his stuffed animal Snuggles yet he forgot I existed once on our trip when a fellow 21 Pilots fan with long dark hair and a braided choker necklace entered his world.

Besides my glorious trips overseas in my teens and twenties I have not been away from home for this length of time. I can be a cave-dweller. When not at work or grocery shopping at Walmart I stick to my minute radius, often ignoring the slight nag to interact with humanity on a physical level.

Vacations pluck you out of your comfort zone, plop you into the unknown, and enlighten your sense of self. I learned I can keep up with preteens on a floating obstacle course (although I could barely lift my arms the next day). I realized I am pretty good at being a chameleon when it comes to cohabitating with various families and groups of people (although I had to slink away at small intervals to get away from the tiresome chatter I’d rather replace with a good book or staring at the tops of the trees).

I urinated in several outdoor locations without soaking my feet. I got lost in the banjo-echoed boonies without becoming completely inconsolable. I drove through thunderstorms and along winding mountain roads and alongside Live Oaks draped in Spanish moss.

I sang aloud to Boz Scaggs and Jimmy Hendrix and Weezer. I sipped coffee with my brother. I read fairy tales to my nephew. I poured my grandmother a glass of milk. I floated down rivers with friends I hope I have forever.

And all this with my son.

When we pulled into our driveway I was a bit dejected. Reality. Chores. Bills. Work. Homework. But if I can tackle these things with the zen I felt on the mountain, the freedom I felt on the open road, the happiness I felt surrounded by friends and family, then maybe these mundane tasks won’t be so stressful.

“I feel strongly about Saturn” was written in marker on a wooden bed in a cabin in the north Florida woods. It made me think of all the travelers who came there before me. And the dreams of stellar travels to come.

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Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

I don’t get how some companies only give their employees a week off for a whole year’s work. Thank god and universe my company (Starving artist/stay-at-home Mom) has a more flexible vacation policy.

I’m not saying I’m ripping it up in Rio or chillaxin it down in Fiji, but I am able to take a few days here and there to discover the wonders and rejuvenating benefits of staying with family and friends in the great American south.

Rejuvenating? With family? Actually, yes. Keep it at three days tops and you’re golden.

I just came back from a girl’s trip. Me and two of my besties finally converged to chill in the Florida sun like we did every summer for years until kids came into the picture. So this trip was a little different in that instead of packing a pipe we had superhero figures, Barbies, and juice boxes in our myriad of bags and suitcases.

Yep, we brought our kids.

Now I had spent a little time with these kids and besties over the last five years or so but it was only for brief moments when one of us was in the same state as the other. But you know when a friend is a friend for life even if you don’t see or talk to each other often.

The three of us got together again and it was as if no time had passed.

We picked off right where we left- comfortable and making squirrel noises and doing silly dance moves in between making pb&js. You should have seen the clockwork cadence of our moving about in the condo kitchen while cooking, cleaning, and opening a plethora of Prosecco.

And the kids got along famously.


Now luckily I was the only one on her period so there were no foul moods or irritation. Only some “Stop being so bossy!” And some “We’re not going to the pool until you eat something other than fruit gummies or Klondike bars!” That coming from us Moms to our kids, of course. The only thing we had to yell at each other was “Hey that’s my wine glass!”

The three of us saw each other through high school, college, and those weird years afterwards where we were each in totally different places and phases in our lives. But we still made time for each other on our days off. Blueberry pancake breakfasts, afternoon swimming, box wine, piling in the hatchback listening to 311 and going to the movies. We were the three musketeers, or the three squirrels, as we called ourselves (thus the kitchen squirrel noises).

To see them now, all mature with stable jobs and children and talk of Cub Scouts and art projects was so interesting. They have each aged like fine wine in that they are more comfortable in their own skin. And seeing them is like a mirror for me. I remember where I came from, what it took to get where I am now. My wine has aged, too. It is subtle sweet and full-bodied. Not that it couldn’t use a few more years in the barrel, but perhaps breathing in a carafe is more of its stage now.

I will miss my friends greatly. That little vacation came at a perfect time for each of us. And my son said it was the best time he’s had with me.

It wasn’t Fiji but it was just what I needed. Sometimes good friends, silly board games, and an undiscovered wine is all you need to feel as if you’ve been to an exotic island and inhaled a breath of fresh air.









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La Veranda

You welcomed me 
in the middle of a city street
tucked away among the palms and live oaks
As soon as my feet climbed your staircase 
I was full
There was no worry
only solace
I could have stayed for days
weeks perhaps
The aqua sea glass chimes 
danced in the slight winter breeze
Your cushions and lamps
and pillows and books about architecture
encased me like a warm blanket
And JackJack the cat
nipped at the corners
as I wished I could pet him without sneezing
A pedestal tub I didn't have time to soak in
The doorway as short as the people in 1849
Silk coasters to place the glass of wine
at night as I inhaled the smell of antique wood
A vintage coffee cup on the veranda
filled with the nutty flavor of morning happiness
Come and relax
the walls and veranda seem to say
creativity will abound
You are always welcome to leave 
but you will never want to.


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