“Mondays
can be miserable.” Uh huh.
There’s
nothing like being informed at 9 a.m. on the first day of the workweek that my
home septic system needed to be dug up and repaired.
I would
be lying if I said this monkey wrench news didn’t cause me to expel words from
my mouth that would count as improper use of the English language.
Even the
chickadees and robins went scurrying to the treetops when I stormed around like
a steaming locomotive this morning. And all I could hear was my lovely late
grandmother uttering the words,
“There’s always something.”
As I sit
here on this otherwise sunny and promising Monday, now at 10:30 a.m., as
Adele’s voice blasts “Set Fire to the Rain” from my speaker system, I’m still
trying to find some blue sky in my mind.
I looked
up at a quote I have posted on my desk by Louisa May Alcott, “I am not afraid
of storms for I am learning to sail my ship.”
I
cranked the music up and thought “Really? I’ve had enough storms for a while,
thanks. And as far as my ship is concerned, I don’t need another lesson.”
What I
do need is a holiday, by cracky.
By the
time this rant is hot off the press, I’ll have but five more sleeps until I
step out of my comfort zone and into an airplane with 334 other passengers with
an overseas destination.
My
luggage (one big old blue suitcase from 1970s) has yet to be filled to
capacity. Of course if I did that I’d have nothing to wear for the rest of the
week! As it is I’m scrapping about 30 lbs of needless attire from my suitcase
so that I can haul home my quota of rocks and sand from the south coast of
Wales.
I’m a
big fan of travel guru Rick Steves and I have his recommended “Packing List for
Women” pasted to my bedroom mirror and another copy of it in my luggage in case
I forget what I’m supposed to bring home.
Remember,
we are dealing with a clueless green thumb world traveler here. If I didn’t
read up on this all this stuff I wouldn’t have known that I am not supposed to
dress for travel as if I’m on a photo shoot for the cover of “Vogue” magazine.
Who knew! Now I’m free to wear my gumboots and a straw hat as I stroll through
the airport in Amsterdam during my 10-hour lay over there.
I also
wouldn’t have known anything about the Warsaw Convention, which I understand has
been around since 1929. I had managed to get by in life knowing nothing about
it (probably because I never fly) until I read the fine print with a magnifying
glass, listed under “liability for international carriage of persons, luggage
or goods“ on my plane ticket.
I would rather not use air travel and liability
in the same sentence if you don’t mind.
Point A to
Point B to Point A. Thank you. In one piece. With my suitcase on the carousel
at both ends. Safely. That is all.
I can see anxiety medicine
in my carry on bag being added to the list, Rick.
But truth be told . . .
wait a minute, I always tell the truth. Still . . . truth be told I am about to
do something I’ve only ever dreamed about. In my mind’s eye, I could not have
predicted a trip to anywhere other than Virginia, Minnesota for groceries, let
alone an excursion to Wales for nine days in May.
I’m so excited and full of
anticipation I’m going to need gravity boots to keep me from floating.
However, don’t for one
minute think I’m also not scared out of my wits. I am. After all I’m a control
geek and doing this is not remotely within the realm of what I have power over.
If it were, I’d be getting there by canoe.
Oh I see. This is a “learning to
sail my ship” sort of thing.
As I wrote in my column a
few weeks ago, this is the
miracle reward I received from the Universe at no cost to me when I was
standing in the shower one night last week thinking “maybe I should start
traveling and write 'The View From Here' from somewhere else.
I’ll be doing just that
for the next two weeks.
Tune in!!
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