Vacation thoughts, eh?
Thursday. North of the border.
While I love being disconnected from the world and its crazy, modern ways I had a very brief moment of panic that I’d be fully off the grid and would break my strict publishing schedule this week. 😱 But in the end, Poplar Island could run but it couldn’t hide and a few bars of cell service have made their way across the five miles of lake to the cottage where I’ve been holed up and hunkered down for the week and where I’ll stay until Saturday. (Apologies for typos or sloppiness…my eyes are older than my iPhone screen is big.)
So, here I sit with a single dominant thought, and it’s this: life is all about the basics. And that, friends, is why it’s critical that we tune into the moments and enjoy playing with the building blocks, for those truly are the foundation of happiness.
I’m appreciating some simple things a little bit extra this week, things like this (in no particular order):
Old friends. As the old saying goes, they’re the best, but in the case of my old friends they actually are better than that. You feel a level of unconditional love and commitment unlike any other and when you take time to reflect you realize how deep the roots have grown over time and that the feelings you feel extend beyond gratitude and start to extend a little bit into pride territory…as I find myself quite proud of my old friends, those special people whom I love and who love me…proud of what we have achieved and that we have sustained things over time, no matter what, through highs and lows, upside downs and sidewayses…through close togethers and far-aparts. And there’s something extra-sweet to me, at 55, in not taking any of these relationships for granted yet at the same time being quite certain that these old friends will always be more than the words that describe them. They’re my people. We are parts of each other, we always will be, and we’ll always be better because of it.
New friends. Right? Because as great as old friends are they can get a little boring after 35 or 40 years. (I kid, I kid.) But in all seriousness new friends are great—new stories, new perspectives, new experiences, new personalities…and then beyond that they also help us revisit and reprocess and re-appreciate our old friends. There are so many things in our lives that we can’t control, that we don’t love about them (say gas prices or the stock market or the political stuffs), we’d be remiss if we didn’t take a more active role in the happy things we do have a hand in. Meeting new people and cultivating new relationships is one such thing.
Beer gardens. When you’re alone, driving along Route 26 in Oxford, Maine, realize you’re a few minutes ahead of schedule, and virtually out of nowhere a sign for a beer garden appears on the left, well, if that isn’t the Universe talking to you, I don’t know what is. So you yank the wheel, pull into the dirt lot (packed, a good sign!) on two wheels, and wander behind the “XC Ski Barn” into a grassy field, a fairy lit version of heaven, pretty much. Bonus points for the live music.
The sun on your face. How often do we feel it but not feel it? Like we might think “oh the sun’s out today” or “that sun feels good,” but how often do we actually allow ourselves to feel it deep inside, to warm our spirits and to light up our souls? (I highly recommend doing so more often.)
Morning coffee. There’s something about morning coffee, when the drinking of the coffee is an event in and of itself. Not a means to an end, a caffeine fix to jump start the day. Coffee is best when there’s a certain quality of community associated with it, even if that communion is with yourself. (That said I do miss my morning coffee with Kerri, as awesome as this is.) (That also said, a hot cup of coffee was just handed to me while I type, so there’s that too.)
A cool breeze. It keeps the horse flies away and makes the temps tolerable (contrary to popular belief the sun in Canada gets hot), and it’s also a physical reminder that this too shall pass and/or we may never pass this way again…so we really need to enjoy it and not simply let it blow by…ahhh…
A rainstorm. Especially during the night, when it’s Nature’s lullaby. You can view a rainstorm as a sopping wet inconvenient impediment to whatever or as an enabler of something else. You choose. That’s the thing. You choose. You have a choice how every rainstorm impacts you.
Sleep. Honestly, it’s underrated. Before COVID, getting eight hours of it was a rarity. Now I get it in the regular. But here it’s like all those other nights in my life when I slept crappy and for not enough hours, I’m making up for all of it. I look at the clock, think “I should get up,” then pull the sleep mask back down and think “eh, I have another 15 minutes in me.” Next thing I know, 90 minutes have passed and I wake up feeling like someone slipped me a Mickey. Drinking coffee, reading, and sunning shouldn’t be this exhausting. Yet alas here I am. 🤣🤣🤣
Belly laughs. That’s the best pain there is, the aching cheeks resulting from a series of belly laughs that by the time you’re done you’re not sure what even was funny to begin with. I’ve never needed ibuprofen for sore cheeks before. This could be the week.
Bacon. (Good bacon. Like really good bacon.) I’m not sure there’s such a thing as bad bacon but the bacon up here is practically incomprehensible in its bacon-y goodness. It’s like a standalone food group. Seriously I’d come here just for the bacon.
Music. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Music is a tie that binds, a bonding agent stronger than any epoxy or glue, say, Super or Gorilla or otherwise. Building relationships is easy when you share joy over artists and lyrics and melodies. And because I can’t wait a month until the next time I talk about what I might be listening to, I’m giving you this gift now. Crank. It. Up. (The 80s had some really kick ass tunes, FYI.)
Water lapping on the shore. That’s a fantastic and soothing sound that can lull you to a place of sheer bliss or soothe you out of a place of pain. In addition to the aforementioned actual rainstorm, there are some other amazing sounds out there if you listen for then, sounds like that one tree whose rustling leaves can give you the aural sensation of rain while you’re sitting in perfectly dry and sunny conditions. Or like the motorized-sounding wings of a hummingbird hovering by a sweetwater-filled feeder. (The buzzing of a mosquito hovering around my ears or the flapping wings of a bat on the porch, not so much.)
Cold beer. Seriously does it ever not taste good??? I mentioned the beer garden earlier, yes, but the required boat drink, a 740ml can of Labatt’s 50, sets the tone for the week. Ahh…sweet ritual. (It’s not hazing. It’s not. It’s a ritual. Really.) And while there’s not a lot of day drinking on this particular vacation, the icy bottles or cans are welcome any time they do come out. But that first giant can of 50 signals rest and relaxation like nothing else.
Cold wine. Because sometimes your palate needs a shakeup and a fine chilled white is just what the doctor ordered.
Room temperature wine. Because. Steak. And cribbage. Red wine is a perfect accompaniment to both finely grilled steak and some good clean four-handed cribbage fun.
Hot showers. I’m going on memory here because my last hot shower was last Friday afternoon. Not that I’m dirty. The lake bath has a certain cachet (or so I’m conditioned to believe), so I’m squeaky-ish clean. But even so I have had the occasional vivid dream of a steamy hot shower and a loofah a few times this week.
Someone else’s salad. Or sandwich. When someone else makes a salad or a sandwich it always tastes better than one you’d make yourself. I think it’s impossible to explain or to figure out why so you just gotta dig in and enjoy it.
Board games. I know a lot of people hear “bored games” when I say “board games” but I’ve been a fan all my life. At some point you’re gonna have to celebrate your inner (or actual) senior citizenship and go all in, balls to the wall on a rollicking game of Mexican Train Dominoes that is taking place well after your bedtime.
A good book. Because even in the most optimal circumstances there’s something special about taking a trip within a trip and hovering like a drone above someone else’s life, watching their story unfold and hearing it described in words other than your own.
Sunsets. Because they’re gorgeous and because if you get your perspective right, they’re harbingers of new beginnings and not some natural death knell of something going away for good. Sunsets are hellos just as much as they are goodbyes.
Life isn’t a zero-sum game, a competition meant to be won. It’s about all the little pieces, about putting them together and taking them apart so you can put them back together again (or not) when you pick up new pieces. It’s meant to be enjoyed and not played and all I can say is I am enjoying this week, very much.
Happy Friday Eve. Thanks, as always, for being here and spending your valuable time with me. You know how much it means to me, I think.
Love you too.
Sounds just about perfect.
One of your best!