Bright sunlight illumined the treetops beyond our window wall and woke us to the first day of our StayCation. Ye gods! – it was 8:30am! Did we realize how late we were?? Then it dawned on us just like the day – we were supposed to sleep in; how can you be late for a holiday?
Fortified with a hot cuppa, provided by husband, I sat in my rocking chair in my little corner of the bedroom for a few wake-up minutes and gazed at the wooded hills across Boulder Creek from our cottage, and meditated. "Wow," my monkey mind chattered, "you don't have to do anything today, you know that?" I retorted, "Oh, there must be lots of things I have to get done, just give me a minute."
Half an hour later, I was still sitting there, talking to my simian consciousness. "Well, I have to water my new flowering annual pots on the baker's rack out on the deck; I have to pick some flowers from the rose garden and the Bouquet Planter, how about that?"
"Hah," the monkey retorted, "you call that work?"
"No, I do not call it work; I call it FUN! That means I can do it, then," I thought; and I picked up my rose-clippers and went out into the morning light to create a bouquet for our breakfast table.
My man and I had a freshly laid organic egg, with toast and orange juice, and went our separate ways for the rest of the morning; we ended up puttering around the house and garden, doing a bit of this and that, for most of the day.
At 5 PM we strolled across the way to Crazy Peter's new outdoor deck, where he'd invited us and our other close neighbors Ted and Teresa, for an evening barbecue feast. Peter is a huge Frank Sinatra fan, so "Fly Me To The Moon" was blasting on his stereo; a whole new set of cushiony patio furniture welcomed us as we gathered around the coffee table for shrimp cocktails, steamed artichokes, and an assortment of wines provided by us. Peter's two local kids came in with their respective S.O.'s – and we all munched and sipped and chatted while the prime T-Bones roasted on the grill. Peter and his daughter had been to England and Switzerland last month, and we looked at some on-line photos via a laptop. As the day faded, we all grabbed large plates and filled them with too much food, poured another glass of wine around the group, and ate ourselves into a stupor. Then Peter brought out the cheesecake with fresh strawberries; we groaned, but we ate that too!
After the younger generation departed for some lowdown stompin' bar, we five old fogies sat around with candlelight and coffee, and talked about our plans for the month of August. Peter is going back to Europe for a few days; Ted and Teresa are off at mid-month for a family wedding in Ontario and then a trip across Canada to stay for a few days in Vancouver – where they plan to retire in 10 years or so.
I just can't understand why anyone would want to vacation anywhere else, much less retire to any place that is not right here, in the Paradise we have found.
1 comment:
Don't think I don't see what you're doing, with these love "Oh how you'd love it here" descriptions. It's the same as when Niki and Lee send us notes about all the lovely bookstores and restaurants in Chicago.
Chicago has better weather, of course :-P
BTW, I love when you refer to daddy as "My man." (seriously)
I can't believe we were there for nearly a whole week and had no artichoke lemon thing - next time.
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