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all content 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005
Suburban Island

One Week Is Not Enough
Sunday, Aug. 22, 2004, 9:01 p.m.

QUESTION: How was your vacation?

WHAT I LEARNED: Sometimes you just need to take a break.

I'm back from the beach. It was a sunny wonderful week and I feel like a new woman. Its my contention that all of us could do with an occasional dose of sunshine, the peaceful sounds of the ocean surf, a pile of light fiction to be indulged in, an endless supply of ice-cold diet soda (or bottled water for the health minded) to sip, killer-cool sunglasses to wear, a big comfortable lounge chair to repose in, and some no-muss-no-fuss sunblock that slathers on in a trice and results in a beautiful tan - everytime. I did get almost all these things during my surprise week at the beach and it did make up in most every way for the sad fate of our jettisoned Orlando vacation.

There were still a few glitches here and there. For instance, my lips are sunburnt and swollen but I still do not look like Angelina Jolie. I also noted with surprise that although my kids are now 15 and 18, once they were seated together within the tiny confines of our family vacation-mobile (a very small car procured for the week at a very reasonable price by my very sensible husband) for any period of time above 30 seconds, they began to argue with each other in a manner that was so annoying that it was easier for me to relocate the offenders than to suffer the sibling conflict. To do so I moved from the maternal seat of honor the front passenger seat with access to the radio and the best leg room - to a seat in the back squished in with a portion of our luggage, a twelve pack of soda, pillows and blankets, a deck of cards, and my son. I learned how to play Rummy and 13 and also learned that I am not very good at card games. Fortunately, no money passed hands. Additionally, I discovered that even though I walked and walked and walked on that blessed boardwalk each day, I was not successful in using these walks as a weight lose tool. In fact I gained a few pounds perhaps due to the sugared funnel cakes, hot cinnamon-candied pecans, Italian sub sandwiches, tasty pretzel wrappers, and delicate little boxes of maple fudge and truffles, which were available for purchase day and night to any hapless boardwalkee such as myself with some cash burning a hole in their pocket. I also realized that even at the beach in flat flip-flops I am still not a graceful sort. In fact, I tripped on a some shallow steps and ruined a perfectly delightful pair of bright blue spangled flip-flops from the Suburban Island summer shoe/flip-flop collection, to which I believe Imelda Marcos would give a big thumbs up to if I put a bit more work into it. Thank God, there was a flip-flop shop dotting every inch of the boardwalk. Baby blue spangled flip-flops are good too.

Tomorrow, its back to work. Today, Im still shaking the sand out of our beach towels. We picked up my fish from the neighbor its interesting what you can talk people into doing if its just for a week - along with a weeks worth of mail. We are almost back to the ordinary business of daily life but I can still hear the sound of the ocean waves somewhere off in the distance just out of reach for now.

I find that soft remembered echo profoundly comforting in the midst of my reentry into reality.

image by Suburban Island

I WAS THERE: Suburban Island's First Take on JournalCon can be found on Little Island

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