Sunday, October 14, 2012

Dear getting back to it,

It was nice to go. I always feel that the most keenly when we're in the car, driving away from everything. Leaving the city, the county, the state, another state. Staying in a room that is not permanently ours--only ours for a night or a few nights.


But while we're there, seeing new regions and talking about things we don't usually talk about, seeing bears and other wildlife, &c., there are always moments that remind us of what we miss at home, like lots of vegetables, and Bruiser, and home comforts, such as our own full libraries and medicine cabinets and snacks and our own pillows and bed. It is churlish to long for home whilst on a longed-for trip, so we set those feelings aside, mostly. Except at 3 a.m. when the tiny refrigerator in the room is making funny noises and something very small seems to be knocking on the door. Or not. Maybe I was just making it up while I wasn't sleeping.

On our way home today, we stopped for breakfast at the bakery that was to close for the winter at 2 p.m. We admired for the last time the aspens and the red-twigged dogwood still blazing. We stopped in to see our friends at the little Island Park grocery, and visited our cabin closed up tight for the winter. We stopped to look into the river flowing past us, and drove down the mountain. I remembered my grandmother's big back yard when we drove past Idaho Falls, and we talked some more about things we wanted to do and see this winter, and thought about it when we weren't talking.

A few hours later when we drove up our street, the cosmos were blooming their best--the most beautiful and prolific they'd been all year. Bruiser came out to greet us in a whole-body wag. We unpacked and checked everything out, in great shape thanks to my son who had taken care. Looked through the mail and washed our faces.

And if there's still an election happening in the newspapers, and nine e-mails awaiting me in Canvas, and a full agenda for tomorrow, butter but no eggs, there was nonetheless time to make shortbread and take the dog for a walk, run over to have spaghetti with family, to brag about the bear sightings and do a puzzle with a grandson. Time to be home, in other words.

It really was a great trip,

htms

2 comments:

Ann said...

No one writes better about place than you do. Thank you for that.

Amelia said...

Spaghetti helps everyone get back to it. It is the ultimate in getting back to it food.

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