Travel: or Plans to Stay Home

Brett and I are thinking about quitting our jobs. I've already closed booking for after June of next year. We don't have a real plan yet but I'll tell you how it all happened. 

A couple times each year I ask Brett if he wants to take a month off work to travel. He gets enough vacation to do that but we feel like he should save a week in case of plagues and pandemics. And each time I ask this, we loop around to realizing it's not he best use of "our" time. On occasions where I'm looking to be dramatic, I'll point out that our marriage has caused me to have to rearrange my preferred method of living. (That's quitting odd jobs to spend the summers in other countries.) "I've changed my life for you!" I'll sneer with a grin, because we both know I don't really mean it. 

A couple months ago, Brett came home from an outing with Dad and said, "Let's take a year off to travel." I had Expedia pulled up within seconds. We spent a week mulling over a path to follow along the globe. We wondered what we'd do with the dogs, and the house, and how much money would it cost. When I came up with a schedule that chased the Spring weather around the world, Brett's enthusiasm shifted. 

"I don't want to be on vacation for a year," he said. "Not a snooty, high faultin', privileged year of travel."
"Pardon?" I asked, closing out tabs of Italian summer homes. "What else is there? Taking a year off to travel is privileged. But we can sleep on park benches if you'd like. You know I'd love the savings."

"It's got to mean something or lead to something," he replied.

It took Brett another few weeks to work out his feelings. (Men.) He has come to realize that he is less interested in a "gap year" and more interested in closing one chapter and starting another. He wants to move to Europe or do humanitarian work in sad sack countries. He wants to wander from place to place doing helpful things and if he finds a place he likes, he'll just stay there. 

I very much support this kind of aimless seeking of peace or purpose. It's what I've always wanted but couldn't muster the courage to do. We surprised ourselves by switching roles and I began asking all of the burdensome logistical questions. Are the dogs coming? What about Covid? Are you worried about your parents needing extra help in the next few years? 

Of course, I've always pretended that I want live in another country. The farthest I ever got was Savannah, which hardly counts, and people who fancy themselves fancy act like I'm a bumpkin that's never crossed the bridge into the next town. But I eventually realized that I just want to be wherever my people are... but they aren't really up to much so a little time away couldn't hurt. Right? Maybe being wherever my person is would be alright too.
We've looked at volunteer programs all over, but they aren't quite right. They're too temporary and topical. We decided that perhaps we should cut it down to six months and do a few Work Away programs in-between trekking to places we've always wanted to go. 

So that would all loosely start after my June wedding next year. But then we remembered about the Foreign Service. (This is sounding more convoluted as I write it.) We punched Brett's qualifications into the government website that lists the needed diplomats. He breezed right on through for an engineering position but there aren't any available right now - so he's on a waitlist of some kind. Maybe we're waiting on that. Maybe we're waiting on Brett to realize what he wants out of his suggestion to take year off in the first place. 

I'll happily leave superficial weddings in the dust. They're all so uninspiring and vacuous. And repetitive. And meaningless. 

People like me. 

A Lively August

There was a minute there where most of Dad's family was in town for a visit. I haven't gotten to see all of those cousins in quite some time and what a thrill it was to look at their sweet Union faces. All of Dene and Michael's kids are in college now (which just doesn't seem right) and it was neat to see them turning into adult versions of the kids I remember. They're all like real people suddenly. 

I particularly enjoyed hearing about Uncle Michael's strange rearing tactics, now that the kids are old enough to reflect on such matters. These are the juicy things you don't get to hear about for the first twenty years. I wish they all lived closer.

Buddy also enjoyed all of the extra company and activity. 

Brett finished our big smooth dining room table. We elected not to cut it to size because we like the slab so much. We carried it into the house, Brett did a little strategic jimmying, and then we stood back to marvel. It's too big for the room, but we still can't bring ourselves to cut it. Instead, we turn sideways to squeeze by when needed. We think it's worth it. 

We now eat dinner at a table like a real family. Brett eats all three of his meals at the table most days. We put it straight to work with a celebratory dinner party and then I moved into one end of it with my books and papers and laptop, while Brett spread out his latest construction plans for work on the other end and it turned out we needed all eight feet of it. 

At last weekend's wedding, Mom and I got stuck in the rain while we made this tropical arch display. Mom had the great idea to wrap up in towels we found by the hotel pool but we both felt foolish out there; decorating in a storm like everything was fine. 

It stopped raining in time for the ceremony. 

I have a good number of "succulent" weddings each year, and after those parties I take all of the disregarded succulents that the bride just had to have and I toss them into a few wooden planters to give them the illusion that I will be tending to them. I know they are trendy and "low-maintenance" but I can't keep succulents alive. I think they are fussy and unreasonable. The succulent death toll in this house must be close to one hundred. In March, I moved the succulent coffins to one side of the house under a tree and by golly the little squirts are growing. One of them has even flowered. 

As for the girls, Grace has been thoroughly enjoying her summer and requesting extra cuddles from me in the morning. Brett and I have wondered if she has early onset dementia. 

Pippa has been able to decrease her medicine to a much lower dose and this has resulted in a slight upswing of her bad mood. With a little effort, we can get her excited to play for a few minutes but that's about it. I miss my happy loving girl. She got a good report from the vet this past Friday, so we can drop her dosage one more time and if she can hold a healthy platelet count for a few weeks, she may be able to move to medicine that doesn't make her so grumpy.

She no longer wants to cuddle with me and when I pull her up to snuggle, she gives me her butt.

After weeks of toiling and procrastinating, I finally translated the newspaper man's musings into a cheeky article about the beaches here in town. You can read it here. 

Meanwhile, at the Barton household, Covid has struck. Stricken? Lee went down first, Liv followed, and Ellen brought up the rear. They are all on the up and up now. Livvy was only sick for one day and Lee is just about back to normal. Ellen is still breathing like fatty but yesterday she decided she turned a corner. We haven't seen any of them since they tested positive. I did drop off groceries for them one day and Ellen stood lugubriously in the glass door like a creature in a zoo exhibit. 

We've got a few fun things coming up as I readjust to working on a weekly basis. I've enjoyed a full month of aimless wallowing. I'll tell you what sorts of things I've been thinking about in my next post. 

It's A Boy!

Ellen and Lee are stoked to announce Nicholas Russell Barton (name not confirmed) coming February 19, 2022 (date not confirmed).

Wish you could have heard the meltdown that took place the night before Ellen found out. It was a truly epic cataclysm of emotion. I did my best to console the inconsolable and then the next morning she showed up grinning from ear to ear. 

Ellen and Lee are bedside themselves about it. Lee's preparing for his new fishing buddy. Ellen is preparing for nonstop action. Olivia is entirely indifferent. 

Up To Brevard

Brett and I ventured to Brevard, NC last week for his family vacation. Clint and Susie found an exciting mountain cabin on a lake, and beat everyone there on Monday afternoon. Jeff, August, and Julian came next, and Brett and I pulled in at suppertime. Julian just turned 5 and August was counting down the days to his 7th birthday which was yesterday, I think. After a bit of mountain porch sittin', we all had spaghetti and were in bed by 9:00. 
Age is a funny thing.

Day 1: Ah, the unbridled enthusiasm of small children on the first day of mountain exploration. (I woke up most days to excited shrieking.) The day started at the fishing pond. Brett, Clint, and I took August and Julian down the driveway to the trout pond. I'm happy to tell you that the fellas did catch fish but they all swallowed the hooks and died. (The fish, not the fellas.) Clint felt real bad about it. We tossed them back into the water, you know - circle of life - but later read something that told us not to do that. It made Clint and me feel worse. 

The fellas started most of the mornings down at the pond - Brett and Clint in particular. The boys would usually come too, but then they'd have to poop and go running back up to the house. I'd wander down to sit on the little bench swing and take picutres of the flowers. It was wonderfully nippy up there. A chilly fun change from our hot August. I rotated between pretending I was in Scotland and Canada.

Susie arrived to Brevard with a snotty cold and spent most of her time sneezing and sniffling. We all felt bad for her. She did join us for a venture into Downtown were we ate lunch at a slow moving food truck, shopped for rain coats, and found a great little coffee shop. Jeff let August and Juju share a Pepsi at lunch and the sugar hit very quickly. Then Susan gave them a cappuccino and all hell broke loose. Clint convinced them that sitting very still and mediating would make them levitate. It worked for a few minutes. 

Shortly after, we wound up in an antique store full of expensive, breakable things and the children were like sticky missiles, narrowly missing glass lamps, and picking up old kitchen utensils and clanging them together like swords. Brett finally snapped at them in a dad-like fashion and all three of us looked up at Uncle Brett with horror. "You cut that out!" he snarled, quiet but firm. "You can't act like that in here. Go sit outside." They ran off giggling but I stared in amazement. I have never seen him bark at anyone. Ever.

We came home for naps and emails. Bubbs and I made supper and then introduced the family to Pig. It was big hit with August and Julian. August became rudely competitive while Julian preferred to soak his fingers in his mouth inbetween turns, lending the dice a refined dampness one simply can't find in those of public establishments.

Day 2: Lots of sniffling and sneezing in the house. We began this day with a short hike that August and Juju ran four or five times in the time it took us to climb up and back down again once. 

While Clint and Brett headed back to the pond for fishing, Jeff and I sat for one of our therapeutic chats. He and I are so different you see. He is all motivated to succeed, feels duty bound to tradition, and values the rewards of hard work. I'm unimpressed by societal success, feel I owe nothing to anyone, and can't really come up with a good reason to spend a beautiful day on temporary things, like invoices. So Jeff asks me lots of inner peace and relationship questions while I absorb his concepts of having goals and strategies for things I may want in the future. Even he became a little indifferent once I couldn't come up with something big I wanted to buy someday. "What about a nice car? Do you want to drive a Porsche by 40 years old? Set a financial goal."

"But don't you ever drive by someone in a really expensive car and wonder what insecurity made their priorities go all wonky? I feel sad for people in expensive cars."

"Tell me more about that," he'll say, and then later he'll give me three or four valid reasons that a person might just want the more comfortable commuting experience of a nice car.

We found out about a year ago that we're a good match for meaty conversations, so we used the assorted wooden porches of this trip as settings for our musings. Brett often joins in with his ethics based and heavily researched opinions, but when it gets to relationship stuff he bails out. The truth is so unromantic isn't it?

For lunch we went to a Mexican restaurant where August and Julian were mistaken for my children and the concept made me panicky. "No! No no, those aren't mine!"

I foolishly gave Juju a ride on my shoulders as we walked back to the car and then he wouldn't go anywhere without insisting on being carried - preferably on the shoulders.

Later that day, Clint accidentally picked his teeth with his soapy fingers and my laughter was uncontainable.

We had another afternoon of naps and emails before Jeff seared some tuna steaks for supper. We played more rowdy dice and card games and got the kids all whipped up just before bed. 

Day 3: Clint, Susie, Brett, and I went into Asheville to visit the Biltmore. We had perfect weather for the scene and we milled through the house with heaps of other visitors. Susan's cold took a turn and she had to bow out a little early. She went and laid down in the car while we peeked at the colorful gardens. 

Before heading back to Brevard, Clint drove us around Asheville to show us where all of his best memories happened. We saw the little white house he grew up in, his best friends house, the place where got mugged once, the store he worked in, and the highway where he unintentionally took part in his first drag race - he was cowering in the back seat. 

Day 5; On our last day, Jeff and the boys packed up and headed home. We all piddled around until then, out of politeness, and then Brett and I went back to downtown Brevard for coffee and pastries. We also went on a hike up a bumpy dirt trail that spits you out at a little waterfall. There were only a few people on this trail so it was very easy to pretend you were wandering unspoiled wilderness with wild abandon.

Brett and I got back to the house just in time to do a quick change before dinner. Clint and Susie had made reservations at a place they've frequented and Susan was very excited for the meal. It was all delicious but Susan couldn't taste anything so she hardly ate and then we all felt bad again. Brett was afraid the waiter would think she didn't like it, but we were even more afraid for him to find out she couldn't taste anything.  Covid family at table 12! Poor Susie went home hungry and got straight into bed. 

We helped Clint check off the items on the Guest Checkout sheet. We did dishes, straightened up, and found lots of used tissues under August and Julian's bed. We had a final mountain porch sit and sacked out in our heavily quilted beds. It was a quick turnaround that morning. We stripped the beds, repacked the fridge into coolers, and were on the road by 9:00. Brett and I swung by the coffee shop one last time and then barreled down the road to see our pups.