A Rough Re-entry

It’s taken me several days to get back into the swing of things after three weeks away from home.  Re-entry was rough.  We arrived home at 1:00 am Tuesday morning after taking a “short cut”… yes, the infamous short cut… that takes longer and is curvy and bumpy and narrow and all the truckers know about it too.  I can’t remember the last time I had to get out one of the gallon size zip-lock barf bags for myself.  Thankfully I didn’t use it.  I just held it in my free hand… the one that wasn’t clinging to the door handle…. and I breathed deeply for a LONG time.

I felt sorry for Rickey, by husband, because I knew he was only going to get about 4 hours of sleep before having to go to work.  But I was in no shape to drive.  I consoled myself by noting that HE chose the “short cut” that made me sick.  Not the nice wife, I know.  But still, I could have driven the other route and he could have slept, but no.  That old hind sight saying is so true.

Five a.m. Rick’s alarm went off and I was a sweaty mess lying in bed with no covers!  Welcome back to Phoenix, the Valley of the Scorching Sun!  110 degrees…. not hot enough to boil water… only people.  Our bedroom is the hottest room in the house, and that morning it was worse than usual… because of re-entry.  I had to escape… and headed for the loft, just outside our room and turned on the ceiling fan.  Ah, the cool breezes. 

As I sat there cooling off, I glanced over to the homeschool bookshelf and a feeling of dread passed over me!  I have planning to do… for the whole year ahead.  I didn’t want to.  I didn’t want to be awake.  I didn’t want to be hot.  I didn’t want to live in Phoenix in the summer.  Then I realized that I had only been home from vacation for four hours, was over tired and irrational and I had six weeks before I had to plan anything… and I didn’t need to think about it now.  Or this month.  And I always get pumped back up to homeschool with glee at the annual convention in July.  Whew.

Back to sleep I went and did feel much better when I awoke in another four hours.  I thought my attitude had improved since 5:00 a.m., but then I went into the kitchen and looked out the back window.  Dead, tall grass with weeds that had yellow and purple flowers blooming greeted me.  Not the nice wildflowers of Washington.  Annoying weeds.  And four pots with dried out dirt and dead flower plants.  I didn’t want to look at brown.  I wanted to still be seeing green trees and green fields and green ferns and wild blackberry bushes bursting with fruit.  I didn’t want to be in Phoenix.  I didn’t want to be hot.

We are now on day four of re-entry.  I have adjusted slightly better each day.  Part of day three was spent sitting in the coolness of the ice rink while my boys skated, planning trips to leave Phoenix this summer.  It made me feel better to have escapes on the calendar.  Nothing extravagant, but trips to cooler climates with pine trees.  Trips starting next weekend!  I like the ice rink in summer!

Heaven on Earth……… well, close.

We are going on our annual trek to Lake Tahoe today.  I L-O-V-E  Lake Tahoe.  The smell of the pine trees.  The bright purple lupine swaying in the wind next to the crystal clear blue water.  The gigantic pine cones.  The paths of crunchy pine needles.  The brilliant blue jays.  The slow pace.  The laugh-til-you-hafta-run-to-the-bathroom games with our dear friends.  This year marks 30 years that we’ve been friends.  We’re officially old now.

Packing for Tahoe is like packing for no other destination on earth.  We pile the van with games, snack food, bathing suits, bikes, sunscreen, craft supplies, pellet guns, beach towels, DVDs, the dog and Christmas presents in July.  See.  Like no other.  Nothing comes in the van that involves business, school, church ministries (OK, the Bibles come) or thinking.  Nothing.  Only pleasure reading books too.  I’m taking The Shack.  I’ll give a book report later on.

It is pure relaxation for seven whole days.  No alarm clock.  No agenda.  No bedtime.  No worries…. unless Trixie gets out again.  Or Leonard Nimoy’s dog digs a hole under the fence again.

So don’t worry about us this next week.  We’ll be just fine.  I’m planning a photo essay for y’all of our daily sites and sounds.  Ooooooh, tantilizing, I know.  Hit the snooze button a few times for me this week, ok?

P.S.  New bags:  www.bagsforzaza.blogspot.com