Wednesday, October 19, 2011

I’ve gone back to making my vacation lists, but I’m worried that after all this time, I may have lost the knack for it. You wouldn’t normally think such a thing could happen, but then, this is me we’re talking about.

I don’t usually let the teasing and chiding of family and friends get to me. It mostly doesn’t faze me, what other people think of me. But for some reason I took exception to the high hilarity with which my family discussed my vacation list-making.

They showed they were related to a creative person by some of the very original lines they came up with. For example, “if you put on your Tuesday underwear on Sunday, does that screw up your whole week?” Another was, “if you’re standing on the deck of the ship reading your list and a gust of wind blows your list away, can you still get dressed?”

So for that and other reasons—primarily, being way too busy—I stopped making lists. I should have known better, because every vacation I’ve gone on where I haven’t made a list, I’ve forgotten something.

So I began to make a list for this vacation, but now I’m in a quandary because it kind of looks as if the vacation might start before the list is complete.

We set sail on Saturday for a 7 day cruise from New York to Florida and The Bahamas. This will be our fourth cruise. The last one we took was in 2005. That one also left New York, but went to Bermuda, and lasted ten days.

It was my turn to pick a vacation destination, and I have to admit a fondness for cruises. There really isn’t anything about the experience I don’t care for except, perhaps, the outrageous amount they want to charge for Internet access. My family tells me I can afford to pay the price, and yes, I can, but I simply refuse to.

Therefore, for only the second time since I began these weekly essays five years ago next month, I will not be posting Wednesday’s Words next week. I’ve been chided that I won’t be able to go an entire week without the Internet. If I find myself in need of a fix I might spend a half hour at the Internet Cafe. For a one shot deal, I might be able to stomach the cost. But between you and me, I know I’m made of sterner stuff. We’ll have to see.

My beloved also loves cruising. He believes he was a pirate in a previous life. One difference for this cruise, from the last: every other cruise we’ve taken has actually been in hurricane season—as is this one—and in times past DH has always hoped we’d get one. A hurricane, that is. Yes, I know your eyes are widening in horror, mine too, but we all have our little quirks and idiosyncrasies, don’t we?
He sort of had his wish granted last time, as we sailed behind hurricane Ophelia on the return voyage to New York from Bermuda in 2005. (It’s kind of weird that there was a hurricane by that same name this year, don’t you think?)

Anyway, there my beloved sat, on the bow deck—literally on the deck, because the seas were too rough to stand for long—in the company of a hand full of other brain affected men—as the ship drove forward, down into the water troughs and the waves shot many feet above them...

He really enjoyed that, but he’s a few years older, now. Also, on the last voyage, he did have a bit of motion sickness (on the calmer seas, if you can imagine). So this year, he is actively hoping there will be no big storms along our path.

I’m looking forward to our Florida stop, because I get to visit and spend time with one of my best friends, fellow author, the lovely and talented Miss Lara Santiago.
I’m also anticipating quiet moments on our own small, personal balcony, as the ocean itself tends to rejuvenate me. I know some of my readers—one in particular—is going to be jealous, and I apologize. He’s a seafaring man, who’s been landlocked for the last few years. I think it’s always hard, and beyond unfair, that we sometimes reach a point that we can no longer do that which we love most to do.

And while I won’t be online next week, I will be writing—because that’s what I love most to do, and I plan to keep doing it until I can no longer draw breath.


No comments:

Post a Comment