My friend Liz and I decided to go to Monticello and check out the new restaurant there instead of driving to Metcalf. The weather was gloomy and drizzly and Metcalf is more fun when it's sunny and sparkling and besides, I wanted to see this new place in Monticello. I've been watching them work on it for awhile now and it's right by the county courthouse, across from the Opera House. It's housed in an old gas station and I saw three people I knew while I was there and then Liz ran into her son afterwards when we strolled over to a different cafe where they sell honey and bee-keeping supplies.
Monticello is an interesting little burg, for sure.
Anyway, the name of the place we ate is The Rev and I'm not sure what that means but it did say on a sign, "Rev up and Rev down," so maybe that explains it. We both got crab cake sandwiches with french fries and they were delicious. We sat and talked for a good long while and it was great to catch up with Liz. She's one of the most amazing people I've ever known and as I've said before, she's as comfortable serving up a high tea in the British tradition with hats and gloves (her mama's English) as she is kayaking out in the wilds, camping with bears.
I mean- she's a force of nature and always has great tales of adventure to share and listens compassionately while I drone on about my teeny weenie first world problems.
So that was excellent and I've just realized that I have had virtually NO itching today which is amazing. It's the little things, folks.
And that's about it. I have done very little today. I've worked on Gibson's blanket and I'll be sad when it's done. It's a fun blanket with lots of color and I think he'll like it a lot and even appreciate it over the years. Owen sleeps with the one I made him every night. I did order August a Christmas present from Amazon and also the traditional Virgin of Guadalupe calendars I always get. One for me, one for May, one for Liz. I realized today that we are leaving for Cozumel one week from tomorrow and I am so not ready and am dealing with the it the way I deal with everything which is to deny and pretend which only works up to a certain point and I do believe that point has been reached. You'd think that I'd be beyond the moon with excitement and some part of me is but most of me is still dealing with the anxiety and depression and the whole idea is still overwhelming and my new suitcase is still in its box in the kitchen if you can believe that.
You might as well because it's true.
I have to shove it out of the way when I go to get a casserole dish out of the cabinet.
Maybe tomorrow I'll open the box and get out the suitcase and lay it on the bed and start putting things in it. I do honestly know that whatever I don't take I can get in Mexico with the exception of my favorite pillow and my medications so I'm not really too worried. I am so hoping we get the same room we got last time because it is downstairs and on the far end of the hotel and has its own little patio and a hammock steps away and the pool just steps beyond that, and the turtles who come and explore around the hibiscus and we loved it so much last time. Mr. Moon tried to do his best to get them to promise it to us and they said they'd try but couldn't promise anything.
Well, we shall see what happens. We'll be in paradise, no matter what and the blackbirds will sing trilling singing songs from the palm trees and the water will lap the dock and the owner's little dog will visit and give kisses and at sunset the swallows will dart and scoop and we will play cards and read books and take long naps and drive around the island and walk around the town and snorkel in the clear water where mere inches from the surface an entire other world will be made visible and at night the stars will be bright and we'll watch the boats come and go, the small dive boats and the immensely huge cruise ships and as many changes as I know have come to the island, I'm pretty sure that my feet will know the cracks in the sidewalk, I'll remember to say "No, gracias" to the the guys trying to rent jeeps and tours and timeshare tours and when we walk into Playa Corona, Rogillio will say, "I was just thinking about you, wondering if you were still alive," and for two weeks I will not cook or clean or even so much as make a bed and my husband and I will laugh so much and hold hands and even though it has been thirty years since our first trip there, I am counting on the magic of that little island to remind us of who we were and why we are when we are not being parents or grandparents but simply the two of us and we can be as silly and immature and irresponsible as two newlyweds but with the added genuine golden shimmer of our years and accomplishments together.
Because honest to god, every day life can wear your ass down to the point where you can't remember who YOU are, much less why you're living the life you live, no matter how grateful and aware you are.
This is why vacations where invented.
And I'm trying to remember that I deserve one as much as anyone.