Thursday, March 25, 2010
Get Your Motor Running
Last night I told Mr. Moon that we could make our road trip a boat trip to Dog Island. Dog Island is a small barrier island near here where we have a little house that we share with a partner and it's a beautiful place. No commerce there at all, no bridge, only some houses and a few year-round residents. Mostly the houses belong to people like us who get to the island when they can.
And I have had some very traumatic happenings there, on that island. Not quite two years ago I went completely and utterly insane there. The scary kind of insane. I was by myself, something I had always loved before- being on the island by myself. But that visit was not good and Mr. Moon had to come and rescue me.
And since then I've had a hard time going back but for some reason last night I thought, well, it's gorgeous there right now. I know it is. Let's just go.
I told Mr. Moon and he was so happy. He loves it there. And he's a descendant of Vikings, that man, and he is himself on a boat on the water. And for a few hours, I was sure that was what I wanted to do. Even as I type this, I think it would be a good thing to do.
BUT, as the evening progressed I thought some more about it. So much shopping to do beforehand- every meal must be planned and bought for and the list is brought out of the things we need there and I know that once we get there, there are going to be things that must be thrown out because they've been in the pantry for so long.
And water- did the pipes burst during the winter? It sounds so easy to say that we'll get there early enough in the day so that if we need to replace pipes or even the well-pump, Mr. Moon can just get in the boat and go back across the bay and then get in the truck and go to Eastpoint and buy them. Hours and hours of travel.
And the hauling and the loading. Oh, it is gorgeous there. I know it is. But oh, it is work.
And right now, well, I don't feel like working. I feel like sitting in a car and watching the landscape go by, little pink houses and fields of greening things and great plantings of old pecans and when we get hungry saying, "Let's stop here."
I don't want to have to do the laundry or cook the meals. Not right now. I do that every day. I work hard every day. And so does Mr. Moon.
Lily was curious the other day about why we would want to go away. I told her that I do love hotels. She said, "And what do you do in hotels?"
"Uh, things." I said.
"Hotel stuff?" she asked me, somewhat in wonderment.
"Yes. Hotel stuff."
"But you don't have any kids at home. You could do hotel stuff any time at home."
Well, yes we can. But at home is where I work. There is never a moment when there isn't something that needs doing. And most of it is work that I glory in. Especially this time of year. The planting and the weeding and the hanging of the clothes on the line. The picking of the salad for dinner.
Okay. So I don't like the housework. And there is always housework. And I look around and see evidence of that and it just isn't relaxing. You know?
You know.
So back to Dog Island and as the evening progressed and I was cooking and finishing laundry and tidying this and that and it occurred to me that I didn't really want to take that sort of trip right now. Two days on the island is lovely and wonderful but the down-time is hardly enough to make the work worthwhile. Sometimes it is. But right now I think what I need is rest and something new and different and all of this was something I was thinking about but I didn't want to tell Mr. Moon. He was so excited about going to the island. He wanted to catch fish and clean it and have me cook it for our dinner.
But I knew that if I went to the island and I didn't want to be there, it would not be good. Not good at all.
Finally, after fifty-five years of life I know myself that well.
If what I really want is to eat in restaurants and to wear make-up and to feel like a girl and to perhaps see things I've never seen, be someplace I've never been, then I do not need to go to Dog Island.
So I went to Mr. Moon and I said, "What if I change my mind? What if really I'm not sure I want to go to the island?"
And he, bless his heart, immediately said, "That would be fine. I want to do whatever you want to do."
Now of course, me being me, I wonder if this means he has a girlfriend and feels guilty.
I don't really think he does, but this is how my crazy mind works. After twenty-six years with the guy, I'm still not quite sure he loves me.
But I think he does. And when I woke up this morning to find that note you see above, my heart lifted and yes, I will run away with him. You bet.
And when we get back I will do laundry and cook meals and pick salad. I will watch the wisteria bloom and the peas gain height and leaves, and the ash magnolia blossom. I will fill my pots with flowers and papyrus and ferns. I will transplant phlox and I will water everything and I will spend time with my grandchild and my children and I will be happy for this life.
Happier than ever because I will have run away with the man I love who has made it all possible, who has made my dreams come true.
The dreams, as I always say, I did not even know I had.
The ash magnolia's velvet glove opens slowly to reveal a flower.
The tiny peas break through the dirt, strong even in their delicacy.
Did you know that this is what dogwoods look like before they fully open and turn white as snow?
I've always wanted to grow papyrus. If I had to make paper, this would be where I would start.
The prosaic impatiens. I can't help it. I love them.
The buckeye is ready for the bees to make love to them.
Wisteria buds and bamboo. What more is there to say about that?
We will go to Dog Island maybe soon. But not this weekend. Instead, we will go away to someplace that doesn't need our work, our labor.
Sometimes, when we are on the island, Mr. Moon grabs me up and says, "I love playing house with you."
And I know what he means and I giggle because I love playing house with him too, although there is a part of me which wonders how much he'd enjoy it if we were playing car salesman. Probably not so much.
I don't really want to play house this weekend. I want to play grown-up-on-vacation. I want to wear my hair down. I want to do hotel stuff.
With Mr. Moon.
And so we shall.
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Have a wonderful time! You both deserve it.
ReplyDeleteI look forward to doing hotel stuff tonight...in our living room...
ReplyDeleteha
I think the same thoughts about Jeremiah all the time...like it's not possible that he can love me the way I love him.
I must drive him crazy. That's what I think most of the time.
Have fun!
That's the good thing about being a grown-up, isn't it? Whatever you decide is good.
ReplyDeleteHave a wonderful time!
I think the same way about camping; I love it, I really do, but it is SUCH hard work, for the same reasons you listed, and if it's only going to be two days, then it isn't worth the work. Hotel stuff-I love hotel stuff, even if we can do the same things at home. Someone else is going to change the sheets and make sure there is coffee for the little doll-sized pot (which is not NEARLY enough coffee for me, but it gets me going), I can throw the towel on the floor and someone else is going to pick it up and magically make clean, dry ones appear, and we can go to a restaraunt and someone else is going to cook. yes, I would choose that, too.
ReplyDeleteHave fun! Wear silver bangles! Don't drink any wine!
ReplyDeletevery good choice.
ReplyDeletelove that conversation with lily.
I love mr moon's note and his willingness to do whatever you want. and how you can't help but for a minute think he has a gf. well, i don't love that, but i understand it and i love you writing about it.
and yeah, good point about playing car salesman!
i got a little teary at the part where you said, what if i change my mind and he replied.
i'm so glad you're going the hotel, hair down route. you NEED it and deserve it.
and oh, those photos! the greenish dogwood blooms, the peas popping up! Thank YOU!!!!!!
Wonderful writing. So glad to have discovered you (through my blog friends Kathleen at Hill Country Mysteries and Elizabeth at a moon,worn as if a shell). I'm just up the road in Pensacola. (Normally blogging at http://www.switchedatbirth.us but am taking a break at my getaway place (brand new) at http://beautyoftheswamp.wordpress.com.
ReplyDeleteLook forward to exploring and enjoying your words.
Beth
Thank God -- I read this whole post, scrolling down and down through the beautiful thoughts and ruminations and photos, dreading that you would decide to go to Dog Island after all. And you didn't. And I am so glad. Go do hotel things -- lie in hotel sheets, mess around in hotel sheets, eat restaurant food and do nothing else. It will be divine.
ReplyDeleteBaha, playing car salesman. Nice one.
ReplyDeleteHave a blissful hotel weekend. I hope I do too!
ah! youre SUCH a good writer. send me some vibes...
ReplyDeleteDog Island is an AMAZING name for a place. but oh jaysus... that two years ago thing sounds full on.
maybe you could take little soaps and white bathrobes and steal them from yourselves when you leave. and don't forget to drain the minibar.
Lucky Mr. Moon. Whipped like a hung-out sheet in the wind, jerked like some Jamaican meat, and made crazy by a crazy woman, but lucky Mr. Moon....L7
ReplyDeleteMs. Moon, that was wonderful. You are lucky, both of you. It's hard sometimes to figure out what you need and really want and then to say so and go do it. Hooray for you both. Hotel stuff. Easy, not hard. I thought you wrote the note, (should have realized the writing's not yours!) and Mr. Moon's wonderfulness in leaving it was just too perfect. Have much fun!
ReplyDeleteI am so happy for you. You two will have a terrific time, wherever you go.
ReplyDeleteI like hotel vacations best, too.
Relish every minute of your trip with your man, Ms. Moon! :) That's the sweetest note!
ReplyDeleteHotel stuff sounds just great!
ReplyDeleteIf you didn't hear Writer's Almanac today, you might want to go to my blog and read the poem or follow the link to hear Garrison Keillor read "Breaking Silence." I think it will touch you and many other women. It did me. I don't usually solicit readers to my blog but wanted you all to know about this poem.
Lois- Thank-you. And I just added you to my blog list. Long overdue. Sorry.
ReplyDeleteErin- So we're a little crazy.
Kathleen- Yes. Sometimes it's good to be a grown-up.
Kori- You are right!
DTG- Okay! I love you!
Bethany- Don't tell anyone but I'm the luckiest woman on the planet.
Ms. Beauty- Thanks! And I will be checking you out. I'm glad you've come to visit. Join us anytime at all. And I love your blog friends.
Elizabeth- I want MAGIC! Oh wait, my entire life is fairly magical. I'm excited.
Jo- I will be thinking of you! Not all the time, but sometimes. I promise. And I'll be hoping you're having a wonderful time.
Screamish- Lord. I don't even touch the minibar. No way! Okay. Maybe.
L7- I hope he agrees with you. And by the way- I love it when you comment. It makes me all sorts of excited.
Mel- He's a good man, that man I love.
Ms. Bastard- I have no doubt you do. But you'll have a wonderful time when you come stay with me. I'll turn your covers down and leave a chocolate on your pillow. I promise.
Nicol- Okay!
Joy- I thought that poem was amazing too. Thanks for linking it.
Amazing. All of it.
ReplyDeleteThe dogwood photo makes me swoon.
As does your love story.
Talk about weak in the knees that little note....you love bugs go and do that"hotel stuff", put your hair down, dress up or not...go have a romantic getaway...you are making me mushy now....
ReplyDeleteAh, the sweetness of it. Your kind of love is precious.
ReplyDelete