I got to know Amy online through a mutual friend, and this year I had the privilege of meeting her in person at the BlogHer Conference in New York. When she saw me sitting in front of her in a session, she texted me. Repeatedly. Only she was texting the wrong number.
Chalk up accidental cyber stalker to her list of accomplishments. Amy and her winning sense of humor have had a big year.
Our summer schedule doesn’t allow time for the mom to make it to yoga class. I bike and swim with my son, but yoga quest is officially suspended.
I can hear my instructor. “I see some bellies that look like they’re on vacation,” she’d say when we weren’t properly engaging the core in class.
She’d be mortified to see that now my belly really is on vacation. It’s on a Mediterranean cruise, complete with an endless antipasto bar and a Big Gulp Coke. Sip on that, Mayor Bloomberg.
It’s gone to Disneyland where dreams really do come true whether you exercise or not. You’ve never seen Snow White on a StairMaster, have you? All you need is a little Tinkerbell, a pumpkin, and a pair of glass slippers.
My belly unfolds like a beached whale on the sand. It spreads out like a jellyfish washed ashore. I took it to Vermont, home of Ben & Jerry’s for crying out loud. Can you say Vermonster?
Enough! It’s not that bad. It’s not yoga-belly either. My pilates paunch has gone kaput. The core is no more.
In the realm of respite, there are restful vacations and there are very busy vacations. My family gravitates toward the busy.
Mr. Whetstine goes to Montpelier
None of us had ever been to Vermont until last week. We were going to make the most of it.
We cruised Lake Champlain, shopped April Cornell’s comeback store in Burlington, visited the state capitol in Montpelier, toured the Ben & Jerry’s factory in Waterbury, and witnessed the birth of a goat at Shelburne Farms (timing is everything, folks). That was the first half of the week.
The second half bowed to my husband’s business commitments. He worked while I entertained our energetic seven-year-old in an unfamiliar city.
this way to Ben & Jerry’s
Our itinerary included swimming, hiking, tree climbing, rock skipping, iPhone games, MythBusters marathons, and a shoreline run to the U.S. Coast Guard station for a band-aid.
We arrived home exhausted, hauling 135 pounds of laundry, a bevy of memories, and one air travel induced backache, namely mine.
A very busy vacation requires a stay in recovery.
“Mom,” said my son, “next time can we just go to Kitty Hawk?” He remembers restful vacations are possible even for us.
We vacation busy because we don’t want to miss a thing.
We vacation restful because we all need time out to recharge.
Lake Champlain
Most vacations fall between the two extremes. There are degrees. There is balance. There is a remote, beachfront condo braving the wild ocean somewhere in my future.
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
my hope comes from Him. Psalm 62:5 NIV1984
In case you’re wondering, I’m still here. Our summer schedule has thrown my time into a tizzy.
Fear not. New material is in the pipeline. Working on a few humdingers.
While you wait, would you be so kind as to likeeveryday epistle on Facebook if you haven’t already? Go over to the right sidebar and click the like button.
You might also subscribe so you don’t miss a thing. You’ll find the email and RSS feed buttons to the right as well.
Apologies to those readers who expect more regularity in posts. Hope you’ll extend a measure of summertime grace to me. As Ferris Bueller said in one of the finest movies ever made, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
He also said, “You realize if we played by the rules right now we’d be in gym?”
Seriously, who makes the rules in blogging anyway?
Stop. Look around. Skip gym, unless that’s your thing. And stay tuned for the summer series of everyday epistle posts coming soon to a blog near you.
You don’t know the first thing about tomorrow. You’re nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing. James 4:14 The Message
