My oldest daughter had a big occasion this week- her first conference event that she had planned and organized. She offered me an opp to go with her on a 'pretend' vaca. It was one overnight, and located close to two other daughters' schools so I agreed, then said, "Well, I dunno" then, " Sure, I'm going" then, " Well, maybe not". She was kind and patient, and I finally decided a change of scene was in order so I drove us up to Winston-Salem. She is good travel company. She told me she had planned a pedicure for me while she set up for the event so I'd feel more vacationy. It was a very nice treat.
We arrived without any unwelcomed travel hitches, and she headed into the conference area to set up shop.I left the hotel with directions in hand, and a few minutes later, I was parked and had my shoes off . I enjoyed the treatment. Mostly, I appreciated her letting me know ahead of time and the fact that she was so thoughtful as to treat me to such a luxury without coming along for the entertainment. I tend to sink into the massage chair and have been told I look somewhat like a cat or dog leaning and twisting into the bark of a good scratchy tree limb trying to "get" the tree to scratch just the right spot. In addition, my feet are extremely wary of strangers, and they tend to jerk and squirm in the hands of the pedicure artists. Twice a year, sometimes 3 times, I'll go through the torturous, in a good way, pedicure. I can't take it any more often than that.
We had a surprise dinner with my Wake Forest near graduate daughter, and were in bed in our nighties by 7. Yes, 7. I crocheted a hat for our newest youth director and his preggers wife, and lights were out at ten. I was up at 3 as per my usual wake up call, and emailed a bit - my daughter's anxiety kept her up so we visited in the dark for a few moments and back to sleep fell we.
That afternoon, I drove back to Winston-Salem in time to watch my oldest succumb to a nasty stomach virus. I ended up sitting at the conference table handing out nursing certificates and packing up when it was all done while she spent time in the restroom- not resting. We drove home with the top down, hoping the fresh, albeit frenetic, blasts of air might keep her nausea at bay. It's hard to puke when you're in a convertible going 70 mph.
I dropped her off, helped her into her cozy apt, and I made it home in time for yoga. It was a good trip. Short and sweet and with most of my girls. I missed work, though. Yes, I did. No, really, I did.
My boss couldn't seem to find his special gift, and as I got up to go pull it out of his mail cubby i said, " Yes, you've been to Italy, and brought me a lovely mixture of beans for soup, but THIS present can't be found just anywhere." When he saw the trifold pamphlet titled, "NOTES" I could tell he was touched. That's just the kind of guy he is.
My next door office neighbor left me the sweetest note of what she did when I was gone.
"Missed you, made coffee, ate nuts, had gum, ( out of my desktop sustenance containers on my desk) missed you some more. " It was nice to come home to. You'd have thought I had been away a week.
The organist ( we are partners in desktop snackness choices) moaned that it was no fun sneaking the goodies if I wasn' t there to notice. He is an artist in so many ways, delivering moan-y missed-you comments being one. It was dramatic, loving, and delicious- made me feel glad to be back.
I think it says something special and good when you can be away a couple of days, and feel like you've been to Jupiter and back. I am grateful to have been missed.
Something awry happened, though. While I was gone, it snowed. It snowed paperwork on my desktop. A blizzard of work sat on my desk, sprawled and restless, listening to the mystery radio station, awaiting my return. How did that happen? Gnome and Watchbear( nicknamed Sparky) must have skipped out when I did because they are supposed to keep away extra work that tries to enter the office. Guess I'll have to talk to that duo next week.