There's No Place Like Home

Whew! I am so glad to be home, especially considering what it took to get us here -- packed trains, frighteningly long security lines at airports, and a cancelled flight in Newark that left us stranded an extra 4 1/2 hours for the final leg home.

What kept me going was the cats. I was single-minded in my pursuit to return home to them.  "My babies, hang on, I'm coming," I telapathied to them. I was so tired I was almost sick with it--we'd been up close to 24 hours. "Must get home to the cats, must get home to the cats, I chanted.

Finally, we pull in front of our house. Leaving Blair to struggle with the luggage I race up the steps, fling open the door, drop my purse as I stretch my arms wide and announce  to Lucy--my baby, my darling--sitting on top of the credenza, "Mommy's home!"

She took one look at me and fled.  Not quite the homecoming I had envisioned.

She quickly came around, as did Olivia.  I am THRILLED to announce that Olivia--the cat who no one even believes we own because she has never been see by anyone except us--made friends with Melody, our housesitter. She sat on Melody's lap and allowed herself to be combed. Melody left me a note that noted what a "friendly little kitty," I had.

Hello, what? Friendly? My cat? But I'm SO relieved. It puts my heart at rest to know Olivia got some kitty love while we were gone. Unlike Lucy who apparently did nothing but hiss in Melody's general direction the entire time.

BTW, I'm going to recommend my friend Melody look into a new career as a housesitter. We came home to a SPOTLESS home, mail neatly stacked up, newspapers in chronological order on the dining room table, happy cats, towels folded and put away, clean sinks and fresh linens.  She was a God-send.

Okay, I have many amusing (or what I hope are amusing) stories to tell from our trip that I'll summarize in future posts. For now, I am dealing with what I think is a massive caffeine-withdrawal hangover. Apparently the word "decaf" does not exist in the UK. I'll spend the rest of this week detoxing, I'm sure.

But for now, I'm headed outside to enjoy that big yellow globe thing we here in America refer to as "the sun." I'm not sure Britons are familiar with the concept. 

Cheers!

Getting Along With Your Spouse While Traveling

Blair and I are exceptionally companionable. We have a running joke—semi-serious—that we need to work on making friends because right now we spend all our time together and neither of us will have the proper support network in place should something dire happen to the other one of us. In short, we like hanging out together.

This doesn’t change while on vacation. I’m almost at the point where I can’t travel with anyone other than Blair. We’re on the same time schedule, have the same mindset about where to go and what to see, mirror each other in our sleeping and eating habits and are altogether very well suited for spending large chunks of time together.

But everyone has his or her breaking point. Ours is usually around Day 5. After 120 hours of constant contact, the love fest begins to break down. It usually begins with a “look.”

ME: “What?”

BLAIR: “What?”

ME: “Why did you give me that look?”

BLAIR: “What look?”

ME: “That look. The ‘I’m annoyed but not going to say anything about it,’ look.”

BLAIR: “I only gave you the look because of what you said.”

ME: “I only said what I said because of what YOU said about the thing.”

BLAIR: “I only said what I said about the thing because you were giving me a look.”

ME: “What look?”

BLAIR: “Huh?”

Yes, it’s not pretty and it usually goes downhill from there. We’ll spend an afternoon sniping at each other until we realize we’re in a foreign country far from home with only each other and we remember we came on this trip in the first place to spend time together and then he apologizes and it’s fine. =)

Hope you’re all busy appreciating the people in your life!

Home or Away?

Jerry Seinfeld has a comedy routine that is so “me” it’s like he spied on my life before he wrote it. It has to do with never being satisfied with what we have. When we’re home, we say, “We should get out more.” And then when we’re out we say, “We really need to get home.”

That’s me. I have strong homebound roots that, when stretched too thin over time or distance, start to unravel and cause me to become homesick. I’m good for about 8 days of travel and then, sitting in a four-star restaurant eating a dish that took more time to prepare than I’ve spent cooking in my entire life, I start to think how much I like eating cereal out of a bowl at home. Or how a peanutbutter and jelly sandwich would hit the spot. I get misty-eyed thinking about my pillows and my bathroom with the fan that runs too loud and the toilet handle you have to jiggle to get it to quit running. And don’t even get me started on the cats. If I think about my babies home alone, wondering where their Mommy is and why no one has been there to comb them or offer them kisses, I’ll hijack the nearest cab to the airport.

But right now, being home, and writing this, I can’t wait to get away. Problems, stress, bad eating habits—all will disappear when we’re in that magic place called “away.” (Okay, maybe not that last one but a girl can dream). Life will be better, love more intense, and I will have nothing but good hair days. That is the magic we dream of in being “away.”

Killing Time On An Airplane

We fly from Greensboro to New York and then New York to Gatwick—a full day of travel.  I’ve been mentally compiling a list of activities to keep myself occupied during this time period. My ideas for mental and physical stimulation include:

• Diving into the literary novel I’ve been saving for the plane
• Working on my next Pet-a-Scopes column, due one week after our return
• Seated Yoga Poses
• Quiet, Inner Meditation
• Plotting my next novel
• Spontaneous writing on my current novel
• Journal about my life and my progress. Am I where I want to be? What’s keeping me from my dreams? What do I need to change or be more open to?
• Bond with my mother and my husband in the form of quiet airplane conversation, card games, shared jokes and knowing smiles.

Lovely. Now here’s how I’ll actually spend my time on the plane:

• Sleeping
• Watching the inflight movie, “Cheaper By The Dozen II”
• Eating
• Peeing
• Reading the People magazines my Mom will most likely bring
• Whining that I’m bored and when will we get there?

So much for self-improvement—bring on the snack cart!