I’m at the airport typing this on my iPad, because my laptop’s out of batteries. I’m waiting for the airplane that will take me to Missouri for the start of a week of school visits. Friday I’ll take a train from my last school into Philadelphia, and Saturday I’ll watch my daughter fence in the NCAA Regionals. Sunday I’ll hang out in Philly with my whole family, then fly home. Then we’ll have my daughter home for spring break, then I leave for Israel. It’s going to be a mad March, for sure.
Which is why I treasured the last three days. My husband and I spent them at our house in the North Carolina mountains, near a very small town called Linville. We love our Linville house, but this year especially haven’t been able to be there as often as we’d like—we missed a planned weekend in January when our sweet dog was too ill to make the drive. The lovely thing about the Linville house is that it’s there, waiting for us, with a big fireplace and the world’s best porch, and trees shading us from all the world. At Linville I sleep soundly and at length—it’s become a joke in our family. Over and over again my teenaged children would come into my bedroom, sit on the foot of my bed, and say, “Mom. Wake up. It’s time for LUNCH.”
We arrived Thursday night after what had been a very long challenging week for my husband, and a pretty frisky one for me.
On Friday we slept until lunch. Then we went out for lunch, then we went to the grocery for dinner food so that we could return to our pajamas for the rest of the day.
My husband has done this never in his life before.
Mid-afternoon he took a nap.
We rested. We visited our favorite local art galleries. We took walks. We built big fires in the fireplace and drank nice wine. We reveled in each other’s company.
I’ve lived long enough to realize that time is my most precious commodity. It was such a gift to spend three days in happy tranquility. I’m grateful for every moment,
Which is why I treasured the last three days. My husband and I spent them at our house in the North Carolina mountains, near a very small town called Linville. We love our Linville house, but this year especially haven’t been able to be there as often as we’d like—we missed a planned weekend in January when our sweet dog was too ill to make the drive. The lovely thing about the Linville house is that it’s there, waiting for us, with a big fireplace and the world’s best porch, and trees shading us from all the world. At Linville I sleep soundly and at length—it’s become a joke in our family. Over and over again my teenaged children would come into my bedroom, sit on the foot of my bed, and say, “Mom. Wake up. It’s time for LUNCH.”
We arrived Thursday night after what had been a very long challenging week for my husband, and a pretty frisky one for me.
On Friday we slept until lunch. Then we went out for lunch, then we went to the grocery for dinner food so that we could return to our pajamas for the rest of the day.
My husband has done this never in his life before.
Mid-afternoon he took a nap.
We rested. We visited our favorite local art galleries. We took walks. We built big fires in the fireplace and drank nice wine. We reveled in each other’s company.
I’ve lived long enough to realize that time is my most precious commodity. It was such a gift to spend three days in happy tranquility. I’m grateful for every moment,
No comments:
Post a Comment
The comments on this blog are now moderated. Yours will appear provided it's not hateful, crass, or annoying--and the definition of those terms is left solely to me.