In short, because my reality life (as opposed to my virtual one) has been really fast and loud.
After we picked the girls up from camp (where they had a marvelous time), we immediately shot up to my folks' house for a family reunion weekend. It was wonderful to see so many relatives I hadn't seen in years! We arrived back home at 5 PM on Sunday, changed clothes, and made it to church by 5:30 for the VBS kick-off picnic. Monday through Thursday, we left the house for VBS at 8:30 AM and got back home around 1 PM. Afternoons were filled with fun with friends, appointments, get-togethers, one swim meet, two sleepovers, book club, and a couple of parties. By evening, I was exhausted and fell onto the couch with a book. My computer was barely on the whole week.
It's all good, but I'm ready for a break.
The week ahead is quieter, but we'll be occupied with packing up for the epic journey to Maine. (We embark on Saturday.) And the calendar is far from clear: there are dentist appointments for the girls and me; an orthodontist appointment for Tiny Girl; a birthday lunch for my sister; swim team practice every morning; a swim meet Wednesday evening; an evening meeting with my small prayer/accountability group; riding lesson and practice rides before we say "see you in September!" to Tappy the pony; and one scheduled playdate. I'm certain impromptu get-togethers will pop up!
I'm feeling my usual ambivalence about leaving. (If you've been with me for a while, you know that I wrote about not wanting to leave Maine last summer to come back home! Ah, how the tune changes.) It's hard to say goodbye to the familiar, the comfortable, even for a little while. The girls are feeling this way, too. We tend to focus on what we're going to miss, both the specific, such as the last swim meet and the swim team end-of-season party, our friends, our church, the cucumbers growing in the garden, etc., and the general, e.g., our life as it is here.
But memory whispers to me that we have a life in Maine, too, and we only get to live it for a few weeks each year. Friends there have sent messages, "When will you be here?" and even "When are you coming 'home'?" And when I think of how we will downshift, and life will be slower, I can feel myself begin to relax a little, like a spring in my chest loosening.
I will sit on the dock after dark and look at the millions of stars I can't see here at home. The girls and I will take the kayaks out and paddle across the lake. Maybe I will try to waterski (again) this summer. Or maybe I won't. I will watch the girls do flips off the floating dock, my feet dangling in the lake. I will sip lemonade or iced-tea with mint and read all day long. I'll take the time to visit with friends, savoring the conversation, because I know our time together will pass too quickly.
It will be lovely.
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Oh, how I envy you. To head north and kick back. If. Only.
ReplyDeleteI adore that American thing of spending summer on the lake.
Some (admittedly not only wealthy but decidedly upper class) families do the same thing here, spending summer in Scotland. When we honeymooned in Achiltibuie, there were folks there, in their cottage for the month, *who had brought the ponies with them* and children freed to run and swim and ride like an Enid Blyton story.
we must press on, I fear!
Enjoy summer in Maine. It sounds close enough to heaven.
You are going to be so surprised when you open your trunk to find...me! It might ruin your quiet plan, though.
ReplyDeleteOh, and do have the Caxley Chronicles Amazoned out to you with all due haste.
ReplyDeleteJust re read for the umpteenth time, The Market Square and am now dozing through 'The Howards of Caxley' and just the very thought of meandering through such a wonderful treat (two, no three, turning points in English history, wrapped in effortlessly accurate social detail, and as charming as a yellow duckling on the edge of the Cax) with ones feet in the lake, is positively ambrosial!