Monday, April 20, 2009
A report from Exit 25
So here I am. . . at the “shore” (exit 25 for all who are interested. . . ) surrounded by all the comforts of home. . . well . . . except Internet access. . . and sunshine. . . and, in the absence of warmth from the sun. . . heat. . . and my dog. . .
I’m missing my dog.
And it’s a windy 53 degrees and raining.
But there are many other things I do not miss about my life with my teenage daughters.
I do not miss hairballs (no the dog’s, silly, my daughters’). . . I do not miss the daily screaming match over the bathroom at 7:00 a.m.. . . and I do not miss the oodles of dirty dishes and empty chip bags that are left in the family room for me to retrieve each morning.
And I'm proud to say that I have not unwittingly turned over money to anyone in the last two days.
The toilet paper proudly sits in its proper place in the bathroom. And if – by chance – I should happen to exhaust the roll that is currently there, I will promptly replace it with its soulmate.
The only errant item I find in the kitchen sink when I awaken is my own wine glass from the night before.
And the crabs are sleeping in the other bedroom (quite literally!)
I have brought with me a quite heady array of reading material. (Marinka, are we on for Ulysses. . . because I’m not delving in without a partner in crime. . . ) and a book of Sudoku puzzles (which I have pinkie-sworn to become addicted to) and my trusty box of wine (a brand spankin' new box, mind you, not the same old one I talked about ages ago. . . )
Oh yes, and let me not forget to inform you that I have brought an abundance of Dunkin’ Donuts dark roast coffee with me. . .
And so I will sign-off now and go in search of some cozy internet café that hopefully has both central heating and some good herbal tea. . . . and a place to plug in my laptop because the battery doesn’t really work (it’s my daughter’s cast-off, remember?) . . . and some table space to use my mouse, ‘cause I’m not real proficient in using that keyboard thingy. . . and I will post this post and hopefully catch up on some of your blogs and make some witty comments. . .
And when I return, I will bask in the silence of a house that is not in turmoil. I will listen to the pitter-patter of those raindrops on my windows and enjoy the solitude that allows me to hear them. And I will thank my loving God that I am utterly and completely alone. . . well. . . except for my parents who are in the house downstairs. . . .
And - damn - I didn't bring my boots!!!!