I am recapping some of the events of our vacation:
Day one started with some frantic preparations though not nearly as stressful as at other times.
As far as I know, not a single thing was packed before Saturday morning. All previous efforts had been aimed at a party R. had planned for Ab's Fourth Grade Girls Bible Study Group at our house; AA and I had assisted as much as possible and then stayed out of the way. We had tested the hot dogs I sacrificed on the grill and then evacuated the premises to take in a movie before the females invaded.
On Saturday, R. and Ab took care of most of the packing and the "inside" stuff, AA and I took care of the toting and lifting and such.
AA. and I had to take our garbage to the dump site. so we first had to empty my little truck of some lengthy pine logs I had removed from my brother in-law's yard. I had had an idea that I could drive my truck through some narrow landscaping up an embankment to an area on the edge of the woods. I hope to use the logs as borders for some planned areas up there. AA and I tried it and we made it to the top narrowly missing some small trees and - as I learned later- running over a couple of shrubs in the process.
Our trip back down was much more treacherous: after making attempts, I learned that there was no room to turn around on that embankment so we had to back down the hill. In order to actually get back to the driveway, I had to make a sharp turn which I couldn't seem to accomplish in reverse. We ended up getting stuck with one wheel sort of hanging precariously higher than it's mate.
We stopped and prayed . . . later, I was grateful for that opportunity for my son to learn that you can, and should go to God about everything. Within a few moments we were down the embankment and on our way.
We left behind schedule and I kept waiting for R. to display some sort of anxiety. I asked several times, what time we needed to arrive in order to pick up the keys - her replies were always calm . . . non-plussed.
Someone brought Focus on the Family's radio theatre production of C.S. Lewis' "Prince Caspian". It was three CD's and it kept us fairly occupied for 2 to 3 hours. We had spoken of a picnic but those plans were usurped by the need to make better time so we made one gas stop and one bathroom/late lunch stop at McDonalds in Greenville, Alabama.
The last hour and one-half became - well ... punishing.
The entertainment had been used up, though we tried a Dave Ramsey - Financial Peace University CD but it was soon drowned by the two way conversations emerging from the back seat.
Ab decided that it was time for her to sleep. And she announced this schedule in no-uncertain terms. Oddly enough, AA decided that it was time to sing joyfully! And furthermore, he decided that he should sing an original composition which he was writing on the spot.
If you can imagine, it was sung somewhat to the tune of Su-wan -ee, How I love ya' How I love ya'... only the words were more like:
Pensacola!
Pensacola!
You're my guy!
I don't even know what that means; but the song had its desired effect - it aggravated Ab.
So for a brief interlude, we heard a line from Pensacola! followed by the terse - "AA I'm trying to SLEEP!".
As fate would have it, about this time something stimulated my seasonal allergies and I presented a chorus of percussional sneezes.
For a few moments, we altogether produced a rhythm that would have been suitable for the stage with the troupe from "Stomp".
A - CHOO!
"Pensacola! Pensacola! You're my Guy!
"AA, I'm Trying to SLEEP!"
A - CHOO!
"Pensacola! Pensacola! We're coming your way!"
"AA - I'm TRYing to SL-EE-P!"
Unfortunately, the music eventually degenerated into tears.
By about Seven o'clock we made it to our condo and we soon hit the beach.
Energized by all the pent up anticipation, they played with vigor until dark.
I felt a determination to try and maintain some semblance of my exercise regimen so I ran.
I wasn't really prepared, so I ran barefooted, sometimes in some sluggish sand other times on a very slanted plane. Sometimes dodging small children and photo shoots, other times ducking to avoid being "clotheslined" by some fisherman's 80-pound, microfiber, test-line.
When I finally reached a turnaround point, I learned an important lesson: One should always determine the wind direction and include the drag-effect of gale force winds in one's calculations before actually beginning one's beach run endeavour.
I immediately felt sluggish and weighty as the wind from the incoming tides provided a constant pressure.
I felt much better having made the run.
We finished off the night with some leftover hot dogs, then we slept with the anticipation of the days ahead.
No comments:
Post a Comment