Family Travels or How I Learned To Be More Specific

Family vacations in a Suburban packed with kids, suitcases, camping gear, and dogs were challenging to say the least.   My husband was in charge of the dogs, making the sure the house was secure and fitting everything in the Suburban.  I was in charge of food, and helping everyone pack.

We were trying for an early start on one memorable trip but the kids were sleepy and unenthusiastic. Trying to speed them up I went into each child’s room to make sure they packed everything they needed. I handed them their suitcases and told them to take them out to be loaded into the truck.  They couldn’t wait to get into the Suburban and go back to sleep so they didn't argue.

We were on the road and making record time with kids and dogs asleep for the first few peaceful hours. The normal travel complaints about pit stops, dead batteries in the Gameboy and the classic, "she touched me", began when they woke up and increased the hungrier they got.  I dreaded lunch stops because the strategically placed people and gear somehow always managed to get rearranged in a less efficient manner.  This lunch break proved to be worse than normal as a cry went up from our youngest that his suitcase was not in the truck.  I was about to go and help him find it when the next oldest child announced that hers was not there either.  We all stood staring into the back of the Suburban as every inch was searched, only to find that the suitcases were indeed missing.  There was a strange moment of silence as we all realized we were past the point of no return, then the tears and panic began.

                I pulled lunch from the coolers to help calm everyone and stepped aside with my husband to discuss our options.  The trip budget could not replace everything but we decided to pack up and go to the nearest town to purchase underwear, socks and one outfit per child.  We were praying for a discount store with a clearance sale but were blessed to find a thrift store first and managed to get what we needed for much less than we feared.

                The trip was amazing and the suitcases soon forgotten until we arrived home and found them sitting neatly in the kitchen.  The kids explained that they thought  if they put them there someone else would take them out to the truck.  We chalked it up to sleepy logic and I vowed to give more specific instructions for the next trip.

Viva La Difference or Ode to a Staycation

Going nowhere sounds depressing

When looking for a time refreshing

My attitude may need adjusting

Before I realize the blessings

All I see is procrastination

Things I should, could, would have done

Screaming they should come before

Threatening things that might occur

The sight of things undone around me

Reminding me my time is not free

May bring it to a woeful end

Of being more tired than when I began

That thought train will lead to failure

If optimism I don’t secure

So determination sends regrets

For the invitation to more stress

I will let go, and take a break

And responsibility forsake

To take a hike and fish a stream

Sleep till noon and chase a dream

Escaping the box routine creates

Just enjoying the change of pace

For disappointment, not a chance

Viva La Difference

Double Vision

                Living in rural area meant long bus rides to school and back.  I was one of the first ones on in the morning and the last off at night.  I had my pick of seats but usually sat alone because none of my friends rode the same bus. Sitting in the back was a disaster because the cool kids would tease me to try and intimidate me into giving them the seat.  Even in the middle seats I felt like I was breaking up a group so I ended up in the front just behind the driver.

                  I rode the same bus for 11 years and had the same bus driver for most of them. I had discovered that the front seat had a great view not just from my window but over the drivers shoulder through the large front window.  Over time I knew every house, farm, and field on the route including the horses, cows and dogs that lived there.  I noticed what kind of flowers grew along the road during what season and anticipated them each year as well as new generations of livestock each spring.

                   I was thrilled when I saw wildlife along the way and one day after seeing a large buck I glanced up into the driver’s rear view mirror. He nodded and smiled directly at me and I knew that he had seen it too.  We never had a conversation but I knew that he and I shared a special knowledge of the route.  We began to automatically exchange glances whenever there was something special or new along the way. During the winter it was harder to see through the slush coated windows.  One day when I got on the bus I found that the slush on my window, and only my window, had been cleared off in a neat circle.  I looked up and saw the driver grinning but he didn’t make eye contact.  From that day forward I always had a clear view and I never even thought about being alone or unpopular again.