Vacation

We were on vacation last week. Well, I was. Dave ended up working every day, even being at a ground-breaking ceremony in town with President Obama. How's that for working? Anyway, since being back at work, I've been asked repeatedly about my vacation and how had it been. It was a strange vacation for me -- I had no motivation to do anything. One day, I seriously went no further than from my 1973 motorhome (next year to maybe be sporting flowers on the sides), to the camground bathroom and to my sister-in-law's trailer. What? That's all the further I went for an entire day? Yep, it was. What? I didn't go to the beach and swim in Lake Michigan when the water temperature was 75? No, I did not. I didn't move. So I wondered if I had wasted the time. Did I? I don't think so, but I wonder why I feel the need to justify myself? So, I'll justify myself in this way.

I sat quietly for a week and listened to that cardinal sing at the top of his lungs day and night -- and sometimes swoop into my vision to see if I had left any morsels lying around. I heard families laughing together over board games being played. I heard fire snapping in the fire pit. I tasted the gooeyness of marshmallows and chocolate and graham crackers. I ate wonderful pancakes and french toast and tacos and hobo pies. I felt the quiet still breezes blow past me on a rare occasion, like a breath of fresh air or the spirit of the Lord. I woke up to the smell of coffee and shared that over long conversations with nieces and nephews (their dad's coffee was too weak -- they knew where the good stuff was). I never had to wait for a shower and the water was hot. The sleep was good and restful. I spent time with one great-niece who wanted to learn to knit -- and so I got her started and watched the excitement of knitting and her beginnings of learning the relaxing aspect of the craft. The hugs from the little great-nephews who have now learned who I am and call me "Aunt Sally" or in Dave's case "Uncle Fluffy". The stress was gone and I could just be -- reading a good book or knitting or napping. Being with family in the outdoors.

I guess I've learned that a vacation doesn't have to be "doing" and I shouldn't feel like I need to justify just "being". Because "being" is how I spent my vacation and it was glorious!

Now I Know Why

I hate to vacuum and don't enjoy cleaning much at all, but I really hate to vacuum. The main reason is that no matter how I try to do it, I always get twisted up and trip over the cord. I mean seriously, how hard can it be to push something around in a room and move on to the next room? For me, it's serious and always a mess.

The last time I vacuumed was particularly a bad day. I was working my way around the dining room, chairs pulled out from under the table and off from the rug ..... when all of a sudden -- stopped. The cord was not only wrapped completely around one chair, but also around my own two feet. How could this be? I angrily unwound the cord and marched into the living room to take on another space.

I was "happily" pushing the vacuum around the room and things were going rather well until --- stopped! I had wrapped the cord all the way around a space heater that wasn't even on the carpeting. How could this be???

By this time, I was really ticked and I snapped the cord around and got it "unstopped". I was done! No more vacuuming no matter if other rooms needed it or not. I was tired of being stopped and tired of tripping. So I began winding the cord up around the pegs on the vacuum -- you know how those uprights are -- the little hooks for winding the cord up and the little clip on the end to snap it in place on the cord. And that's when it hit me! That's when I noticed! That's when I realized that the getting all twisted up was NOT MY FAULT. But I couldn't believe it? Who would create this and why did it take me so long to figure it out? But there it was, right in front of my eyes! I own a RIGHT HANDED VACUUM SWEEPER!!! And, of course, I'm left handed!!!! The cord comes out of the LEFT side of the sweeper. Now, think about this ------ when you vacuum, if you're right handed, you hold the cord in your left hand and push with your right hand. Therefore, with my being left handed, I hold the cord in my right hand and vacuum with my left hand -- all the while pulling the cord across the front of the vacuum and slowly but surely, wrapping the cord around everything, including myself. It was no longer me, it was the darn vacuum. So, I ask you again? Who created this prejudice monster???

Problem is -- even if I had a left handed vacuum. I still wouldn't like the chore! But at least now I have a little bit of an excuse for being such an un-coordinated mess! Happy vacuuming, everyone!