I pick Dave up at work and instead of heading back into the city, we carry on Northward. The sun sets as we drive. We stop for something warm to drink and a snack in Huntsville, but mostly we carry on through.
By the time we get to where we're going, it's 10pm, maybe later. It's all okay though because we've got a bottle of wine and some cheese and crackers, easily accessible, to open once we've let ourselves in through the clinky gate, driven down the long dark laneway, and parked beside the porch. We'll unload our stuff in a hurry and stick groceries in the propane fridge on the screened-in porch. Serious unpacking will wait til tomorrow as we wrangle the dog and try to get him to calm down: he knows where we are now, and he's excited as I am.
We light the wood stove, toast the weekend, and fall into bed.
When we wake up the next day, we're in paradise. The leaves are rustling in the woods, and I go down the big hill to the lake, where I'll sit with a coffee and watch the water. During the day, I'll sneak off to do some tai chi in the big open field at the top of the hill. We'll walk the property together, maybe head out onto the lake in the rowboat. We'll read and watch movies. We'll cook long elaborate meals and talk about life and stuff. I might get some writing in, but mostly we'll relax.
When Sunday comes, I'll be a little bit sad, but we'll pack up knowing that we'll be back soon.
2 comments:
Sounds like a fantastic weekend! And very relaxing too!
Ah, Tai Chi... I remember the fun of confusion joining a class and standing there swaying side-to-side like a reed in the breeze, trying to imagine holding a huge bloody pot, pushing something heavy, then doing this bizarre heel-to-toe-heel-to-toe twisting kind of turn. Also remember my thighs burning like hell. Oddly enough, never had a problem with karate?
I think the only truly relaxing break/holiday I've ever really had was our dream holiday about six years ago on an island in the Maldives. Sheer bliss.
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