home sweet home

Today I crossed the border between Alabama and Georgia, and felt immense gratitude. Last week I traveled through twelve states and stopped in double that number of rest stops from Kentucky to Kansas. I was on vacation.

What did I do? Well, I got sunburned learning that 1.8 miles IS a long way when it's straight up the side of a mountain. I was approached by an unfortunate man at a rest stop who wanted me to know his house was paid for and he was lonely and missed sex. A dapper gentleman made my day by telling me he liked my dress and thought I was "delicious." Another old man, living in Loveland but retired from Chicago, shared his french fries with me while telling me about Loveland bronzework. A man walking his dog stood with me, staring at the shadow of the Stanley Hotel, and said he was living in the most beautiful place on earth, and said his son worked for the National Forestry Service, a job that didn't pay much, but supplemented his income "in sunsets."

It is unusual for strangers to approach me during my day. Perhaps I have a routine which insulates me to much contact with them, I'm not sure. But during this vacation, strangers approached me all week long. One woman told me all about her physical therapy session that morning. Another told me that her best friend had died that day, and she was all alone in the world. A young girl of about five told me an engaging story about the squirrels we were watching.

And I sat on a bench next to an old church on Main Street in Longmont wrote notes about an intersection I hope will be part of my future. I drove through apartment complexes. I drove miles and miles of Colorado road, looking at green farms, beautiful old trees, white capped mountains and grain silos. I almost got my classy Pearly Lee stuck in a soggy patch on Sugarloaf Mountain. I almost got her stuck again in a soggy patch near Estes Park.

And I ate mexican food with a woman who will be my friend for the rest of our lives, a great friend who used half her well earned vacation to fly out with me and listen to plans for my future. She also helped me drive home, through the North Texas plains, where dust is so thick that your tears won't roll again.

Speaking of which, when I arrived home, I was faced with grass thicker than I've ever seen it. In my back yard. And a pile of things I need to burn. This week. And I learned while on vacation that my last living great-aunt has a brain filled with cancer, and is not expected to see April's end.

I guess when you start planning for the future, you have to balance that with the present. Work still needs to be done. Grass still needs to be mowed. Goodbyes to dear great-aunts need to be made.

On the other hand, I also have new tile in my kitchen, and that makes the house more rentable. And in my miles of conversation, I came up with some new ideas for managing a move that's two time zones away. We exposed some weaknesses in my plans, but found some solutions too. I know it sounds funny, but that makes the grass easier to mow. It also makes the goodbyes easier to say, tinged with less regret even when it's a dear great-aunt.

In year's past, I've been kind of a slacker, choosing the path of least resistence because I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. In reality, it looked like I only had one choice: stick it out and live with the less-than-ideal. But this year I've discovered what I want to do. And I've learned something about myself in the process. I'm not a slacker after all. I don't have to live my life making the easier choices. When the better choices require more work, I can pony up and make the sacrifice. When I see something I want, I can do something about it.

My April vacation didn't involve pampering this year. I didn't get a spa treatment or float on my back while soaking my pedicured happy toes in the Lazy River. I've floated before though, and there will be time for that again. Right now, I'm doing some swimming. Or rather, I'm climbing 1000 feet up a granite mountain, not to a Lazy River but to a Gem Lake in the Rocky Mountain National Park. There's a different kind of reward for me in that kind of climb. This vacation is where it began to pay off.

---Laura

getting behind and underneath

So this evening, for the first time since I moved into my house, I pulled the fridge away from the wall and cleaned behind and underneath it. I have just one word for this: ohmigoshohmygoshohmygoshohmigoshohmygoshohmygosh.

I'll tell you why I haven't done it before now, even knowing the dust could make the machine work harder. Over the years, there has been the occasional mouse in the house. And how do they come in? Through the kitchen. Where do they run when you see them? Behind the fridge. Well, I'll tell you something, I've had this vision of there being a little mouse hole in the corner of the cabinet behind the fridge. Something like in the Tom and Jerry cartoons. And I didn't want to know. The thought actually made me nervous to think about. So I never pulled the fridge away.

Tonight I did, two nights before I'm about to drive across the country. Why? Because the man who's putting tile down in my kitchen is from my church, and I didn't want him to see behind the fridge and tell people.

I'm serious. I know it's irrational, and I'm still serious. I also cleaned my bathroom, because I'm expecting him to look in my bathroom cabinets during the four days he'll be here. I'm not sure what's worse - putting something off because I completely dread it, or jumping in head first to handle it because of social shame. I guess it doesn't matter to the fridge.

This evening I should have been at Lowe's using my $25 off coupon a friend clipped for me from the Sunday paper to get the backer board and the threshold for the door, and an extra key because I've given all my keys away and can't get them back. But I was at work until 7pm, and just didn't feel like it. I'm a little behind on my To Do Before Vacation list, at work most of all, but right now I don't care much about that. My kitchen smells like orange blast, and I feel a sense of accomplishment.

Getting this house ready to rent or sell has been a Getting Behind and Underneath kind of process. This afternoon, I dropped off five bags of clothes and shoes at the St. Vincent de Paul Thrift Store. When I get back from vacation, I'll be getting the yard in better shape. I will be planting shrubs. I will be trying to kill the honeysuckle vines. I will be filling the holes Petey has dug. And since I have a reel mower, I will be raking. A lot. I expect to have gorgeous arms by October. Sometimes you have to overcome lethargy when you want to change patterns. Sometimes developing a sense of confidence and accomplishment means tackling things you dread.

There was no mouse hole behind the fridge, by the way. I think I need to remember that.

--Laura

vacation? delicious!

In 4 days I will be heading out across the country on vacation. I'm going very budget, which may not appeal to some girls. Well okay, it doesn't APPEAL appeal to me either, but in the same week that I will be walking the downtowns of three different Colorado towns, I will also be getting the tile done in my kitchen. When I come back from a week away from the stress at work, I will have pretty new tile complete with thresholds and a repaired side door.

So it's okay. With a righteously pitiful salary, I'm taking myself on vacation and I'm remodeling the kitchen floor. I'm pretty amazing, keep up if you can.

And when I come back, there will be changes at work too. So! A week away from work. Time to take pictures and learn my way around. Making progress at home, at work and for my future. What more can you ask of a vacation?

-Laura

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I was watching Elizabethtown this weekend, and it made me think of this quote...

If I am not worth the wooing, I am surely not worth the winning.