Travel Plans

Like most things in life, travel plans must be flexible, subject to change – the stress of unmet expectations is just too much to bear otherwise.

And sometimes, as a very wise and wonderful friend once told me, my job is simply to

get in the car 

(and let everything else take care of itself).

So today, in anticipation of a trip going not quite according to plan, I’m going to steal an idea from Highlights magazine and make my grandson a book of states so he can put stickers on where he’s traveled to already and look forward to where he has yet to go.

It’ll be cooler coming home-made from Gran than a professionally organized and printed book.

[Uh-oh – voices of gift recipients past are echoing in my head . . . (fake smile) Oh – another home-made gift from Beth . . . thanks . . . ]

Well, it might not be cooler.

But it will be from me.

And maybe he won’t know the difference.  Or maybe he will and that'll be all right too.

Better get busy.

It’ll be time to get in the car soon.

And who knows what will happen then?

8 Cool Things About Having a Visitor

Sharing your life, your favorites, the world through your eyes with a guest has its challenges as well as its rewards.  I’ve had a lot of company these last weeks, and as Rachel (Rae) from Scotland and I share our last full day, I’m already thinking back.

Here, then, a list of things cool about sharing with a guest to your life:

1. The fun of sharing regional favorites, like Five Guys, sweet tea and fried chicken from the gas station.

2. Heading to those places you love but seldom get to – Cooper’s Rock, Valley Falls, and  Natural Bridge, to name a few.

3. Luring her in to your own obsession with all things Star Trek, ending up with both of you humming together the Star Trek Voyager theme music at dinner.

4. Laughter.

5. Finding your amazement at the things she doesn’t like that you just love – who wouldn’t love fresh tomatoes with mozzarella, basil and a little balsamic?  Why, it’s positively unAmerican.  Oh.

6. Seeing your world through her eyes, realizing (again) just how loud we Americans of the U. S. variety can be (are); noticing our craven love for salt (who knew there even could be too much salt on movie pop corn?); having to warn that our hot water is not an inexhaustible supply (why will we not adopt the U. K. way on this?); rediscovering that a coffee maker is mysterious if you’ve never used one before; explaining that you’re safe in a car from a Mama Bear; remembering how much you love fire works; having to explain who the people of your people’s history are – what each tribe holds so dear of its past is but so much unknown data to those of another tribe.

7. Showing her the magic of the nighttime in summer and watching her see lightening bugs for the first time – pure magic.

8. Rediscovering how very much we are all alike and how very much we are all so different – all at the same time.

Over the River and Through the Wood*

Over the river and through the wood to Grandmother’s house we go . . . or, in my case, over the
mountains and across I-64 to Embassy Suites I go (followed by the actual day at Cousin Betsy’s, lest you begin to pity me) . . . these days, it is the grandmothers that often do the traveling and that’s okay too . . .

The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh through white and drifted snow . . . alas, my ‘horse’, a turbo-charged Impreza, most definitely does not know the way (although mapquest.com does, and if I had GPS, it certainly would – or maybe not – how can technology that sees from the skies still not know where a road is simply because it crosses woods and mountains?)  and oh, how I sometimes envy those folk of old who could set the horse on the familiar course and take a snooze along the way . . . and while I love the white stuff, trust me when I tell you, driving through mountains covered in it is not for the faint of heart and is nothing to sing about . . .

Over the river and through the wood to have a full day of play . . . or rather to have a day full of watching people who are paid to do it -- play – football – but I’ll be sitting in the other room talking and laughing and catching up . .

Oh, hear the bells ringing ting-a-ling-ling, for it is Thanksgiving Day . . . or rather Thanksgiving Eve (if there be such a thing-ting-a-ling) after the evening worship, car loaded as I set out alone to cross those mountains, yet accompanied by the souls of all my Thanksgivings past and present, weather permitting, as I wonder yet again when I do not spend Thanksgiving at home why I insist on this evening service attended by so very few instead of taking the week off (as I say I am doing every year) and just head on home in the daylight, for I do not really like night travel very much (a sure sign of aging) but will have the smell of pies to keep me company along with all those souls along the way . . .

Over the river and through the wood – now Grandmother’s cap I spy . . . well, I am the Gran and it’ll be my gloves and scarf and fogged glasses that are espied as we all gather round each other, hugging and laughing in the sheer joy of being together one more time . . . or not – it may be quite late and I might just slip into my bed in the hotel, but no worries, the jostling-gathering-laughing-hugging-loving will happen – just not tonight . . .

Hurrah for the fun!  Is the pudding done?  Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!  Since I’m bringing the pies (pumpkin and pecan), they’ll sure be done – just hope they weather the trip and that I don’t succumb to temptation and pull off the road somewhere between here and there on the burm of the interstate with trucks whizzing by, not knowing what treats lie within or they’d surely stop to share, as I scarf down the pies myself and roll in to desperately search for some suitable substitute at the local 7-11 . . . I won’t, really, but I’ll think about it . . .

Over the mountains and across the interstate to Thanksgiving and family and love I’ll go . . . see you there.


_______________________
*"Over the River and Through the Wood" is a Thanksgiving song by Lydia Maria Child. Written originally as a poem, it appeared in her Flowers for Children, Volume 2, in 1844. The original title of the poem is, "A Boy's Thanksgiving Day".  It celebrates her childhood memories of visiting her Grandfather's House. Lydia Maria Child was a novelist, journalist, teacher, and wrote extensively about the need to eliminate slavery. Wikipedia

Hand Me My Sunglasses, Won't You?

Hand me my sunglasses, won’t you?
I know the sun has set
but can’t you see the moon’s
hurting my eyes?  so bright it hangs
now in the sky I can scarce look
forward for fear of seared retinas
and I am the one driving, you know?

Hand me my sunglasses, won’t you?
The moon’s burning my eyes –
what right has the moon to sear
itself upon my retinas like it’s some
kin or other to the sun?  Can you
explain that to me?

Hand me my sunglasses, won’t you?
They’re in my purse . . . I need them.
Yes, I drive with sunglasses in the dark
Don’t you?

Hand me my sunglasses, won’t you?
I need to turn down this world just
a notch or two – the moon’s just too
bright tonight – I’m scared it can
see into my soul

Hand me my sunglasses, won’t you?

Every traveler needs a co-pilot
a fellow traveler on life’s road
one who can toss me a cigarette
out of my raincoat pocket with
nary a glance or thought – two
moving as one – Michigan’s never
been my dream, but so many other
places fade into unreality in the rear-
view mirror as the moon before me
blinds me to all that’s left behind
in the darkness on the road traveled
or less so – it really doesn’t matter
when there’s someone to hand me
my sunglasses and care about my
explanation – who needs sunglasses
in the dark?  It’s the question begging
to be asked as I look to my right and
remember again that I am alone

____________________

*Hats off to Simon & Garfunkel.  Bonus points if you get the reference (well, if there're no bonus points, at least there's an implicit admission of a certain age, eh?).

Three Points on a Map

ChihChun & Anita on far right, with CPT at our team home
in Sulimaniya - Lukasz, me, Peggy, Michele, ChihChun & Anita

I will soon to Chicago, where ChihChun will arrive shortly before me, she having traveled in real time more than a day, but actually arriving before she began as she crosses the international date line to come for a visit.  Anita will greet us and sweep us up in her love and warmth and the hospitality of her home.

We will visit and laugh.  We’ll catch up on all our news.  We’ll eat together and remember together and separately.  And it will be good.

That’s how it is with friends, isn’t it?

My joy is already overflowing, having received ChihChun’s text of her arrival in Tokyo for the next leg of her journey.  As we had previously communicated about the best way to meet up at the airport, I had to confess that I am (again) without cell phone.  So ChihChun texted that she and Anita will meet first and bring me their cell phones to borrow so I can call them.

I picture her giggle at the sending simultaneous with Anita’s and mine at the receiving.

From three points on a map, the laughter has begun and it is good.

ScotlandTour -- The List

Whenever you get the chance, as I did with this trip to Scotland, to spend a significant amount of time away from your day-to-day life and routines, it seems a good idea to take some sort of stock – an inventory, if you will, of what you come away with.  Here’s mine.

Days spent in Scotland – 48
Books read – 13.5
Miles traveled to get there and back – 8,106.86
Days spent in Scotland – 48
Modes of travel – 4 (trains, planes and automobiles, oh, and feet)
Miles driven in Scotland – 1,400 (give or take)
Friends visited (old and new) – 36
Restaurants – 16
Hours slept – at least 384
Something intentionally spiritual done – 0
Ska punk band concert attended – 1
Cities/towns/locales/sites visited – 18
Sunsets seen – 47 (not nearly as many sunrises)
Days of sunshine – 48 (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it)
Trinkets & souvenirs purchased for the folks back home – enough to require an                               additional suitcase
Pictures taken – hundreds
Blog entries posted – 41
Miles walked – I’m guessing 10 (not nearly enough, I know)
Folks in Virginia and West Virginia won’t believe me, but number of times I drove            
               faster than the speed limit - 1 (and that was unintentional - really hoping
               the vidcam wasn’t on just then)
Times driven on the right side of the road instead of the left - 1
Fun/silly things done – 4 (not counting time spent laughing with friends)
Preached – 0
Participated in worship –  1
Money spent – more some would say than I should have and less by far than I          
               could have
Number of people worshiped with – thousands
Number of young people I spent time with – 5
Percentage of overpacking (when will I learn?) – 80
Cuddles with Zara & hugs from Rudaridh - countless
Conversations and catching up with friends - too many to count and yet not enough
Moments of hospitality received – infinite
Time spent doing absolutely nothing productive – glorious!
Laughs with pals Liz and Idris around the table – lots
Puppy kisses from Ruca – laughter producing
Scottish wool sweaters looked at to get just the right ones for my boys
               at home – hundreds
Number of good-byes – too many
Spirit rested and refreshed from the love, grace and care of so many,
               but especially my friend Liz, to take back with me – 1

Scotland -- Day Seven (Travel Dreams)

Day seven was an uneventful day in a life – spent relaxing and laughing and dining with friends – and spent dreaming about what I might do while here, having come with no set itinerary and plenty of time, a rare luxury.

So much of yesterday was spent dreaming of Shetland – I could go later in the month for the annual Shetland Folk Festival (#15 on The Herald’s 100 Things to do in Scotland Before You Die  list [I’ve already some aspect of fifteen others on the list]).

Ailsa Craig

I’d take the train to Aberdeen and the ferry to Shetland, singing, clapping and stomping in rhythm to the music made by my imaginary new musician friends going over to play the festival.  And hoping against hope, I’d stay up to the wee hours every night I was there craving a glimpse of the northern lights.  I’d make my way to the northernmost point of Scotland (and hence Great Britain and the United Kingdom – a discussion on navigating the politics of naming we’ll leave for another day).  And I’d stand on Mavis Grind and throw a rock from the North Sea into the Atlantic Ocean (or is it the reverse?  I can’t recall - but it’s also on The Herald’s Top 100 list).

Reality sinks in as I check out distances and costs.  It’s rather dear (meaning expensive) to get from here to there.  I can actually get to Paris cheaper than I can get to Shetland from Ayr.  It’s frustrating: while Paris is lovely, it’s Shetland I want to aim for this time round.

But here’s the thing about travel: once you’re where you’re going, you actually have time to think about why you’re here in the first place.

Liz & Idris Crumlish at Rozelle House Tea Room

And while Scotland has some amazing places to see and things to do, I didn’t come for the tourism.  I came for the friends I’ve already made, the comforting places I’ve already been.

Sure I’ll do some new things along the way.  But those will be the icing.  The cake, you see, I’ve already gotten in the faces of friends too long not seen, voices too long not heard.  Some I’ve been to already, some I’ll be seeing in the coming weeks, all in their own time.

And that is blessing indeed.