I enjoy and appreciate the simpler things in life. Sometimes, simple is contagious. Those times make simple experiences all the better.
A couple of years ago, when people were not saving lives by staying home, my oldest daughter and I decided we would like to take a trip over Labor Day. Both of us needed a bit of a break, she is a teacher and I just wanted a getaway. Where to go? What to do?Who to see? There are so many options.
I decided to be the planner and I began narrowing down our choices out loud to myself.
"DuBai?" Too much of everything. Besides, I have already been there via a Real housewives show.
"Africa?" Too far, plus the sights are much more viewer-friendly through the National Geographic lenses, Monday at 8pm.
"Italy?" I just wasn't feeling it.
"The beach?" Everyone and their uncle will be there this "last" weekend of summer. I needed to consider other options.
I thought and thought. Alright, me, bottom lines.. It's okay to leave the zipcode, but stay in the same time zone as well as a no passport -needed locale. My mind went blank.
Feeling frustrated, I decided to look at what we needed instead of where we needed, first, and see what that might reveal.
Clean sheets would be nice. Maybe a big bed, too.
A place where I could pull a suitcase behind me like they do in the airline commercials, and blend in. That's a sure sign of a real getaway.
A pool to lounge sounded nice. Fluffy towels that someone else would launder.
Oh! cuteness somewhere in there, cute makes for easy smiles.
Restaurants nearby.
Maybe even a big tv. Possibly cable, as I had moved away from cable and moved into Roku years ago. Having too many choices could be fun again.
Although last, having easy access to an old cemetery was a must.
I reviewed my list and found that nearly all of the decadence needs had nothing to do with location.
I thought about a place that was convenient to travel to, somewhere between my house and my daughter's. I thought about the trip and waited for the mystery to reveal itself.
Enter Holiday Inn Express! There was one about half way between my house and my daughter's, and they had a pool! Over a short moment of being afraid the sheets may have bedbugs or blood soaked mattresses from a murder that the Inn neglected to let on about- my therapist made a simple statement that erased all of those fears. "If those things were true, they probably wouldn't stay in business." Well, Duh. There he goes, being right again, the voice of sense.
I made our reservation for 2 nights and we were off! I packed a week early, of course. I did not want to forget anything important. Even at that, I still had room in my suitcase for some extras. I brought my knitting, sunglasses, and a few mini snacks (thus fulfilling the need for cute). I got there first, and enjoyed every moment of rolling in, checking in, and rolling up to my room. The lady who checked me in gave me the tiniest shock. Something about her reminded me of the slightly mad main character in Stephen King's Misery. She smiled enough, complimented me on my outfit, (suspicious- who compliments someone in yoga pants and an old sweater?) and withdrew into some hole of darkness down a mysterious hall behind the desk. I couldn't name the feeling, but it was there and I was still glad to continue to our 48 hour haven.
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