Tuesday, November 16, 2010

B.C. OBX CIRCA DREAMT 1984

we both were in awe of lighthouses -- when dating had many conversations, bought books, pictures -- even decorated with lighthouse miniature replicas and pictures on the wall not because it was the fad.  Each picture we bought we would read the history, find the location and dream -- vowed  "one day we'll see as many as we can."  We have now seen Tybee & St. Simons in Georgia. Hilton Head, South Carolina. Amelia Island, Florida.  And, now, OBX, North Carolina.  This trip proved special in so many ways.  We were fulfilling a dream we had talked about almost 30 years ago -- road tripping to the Outer Banks.  We dubbed this trip "lighter load" because it was just the two of us.  

GOING TO CAROLINA....IN MY MIND:-)



AFTER ELECTION AND 900 PAGES, PUNCHED AND BOUND, STRAIGHT OFF THE PRESS TO APPEAL TO SOMEONE :-)
NOW I CAN START THE VACATION I HAVE PLANNED AND CARRIED TRACED ACROSS A MAP IN MY BAG FOR MONTHS.  FULLY AWARE THERE ARE SOME WHO VACATION JUST TO GET AWAY...AWAY FROM WORK, FROM HOME, FROM KIDS, NOISE & HASTE OF EVERYDAY LIFE, TO LEAVE RESPONSIBILITIES -- TO LEAVE A POINT. 
I VACATION TO REACH A PLACE I'VE NEVER SEEN, SOMEWHERE I'VE READ IN A BOOK, A PLACE I'VE DREAMED OF, A PLACE I'VE HEARD ABOUT AND WHILE HEARING MADE ME LEAN IN A LITTLE CLOSER, LINGER IN ITS VISION A LITTLE LONGER ... A PLACE I TWISTED A GLOBE TO FIND WITH AN EXCITED INDEX FINGER.  OBX DELIVERED....


YES...WE HEARD THE HIGHWAY CALLING...IT WAS MELODIC.....

YES, JACK, ALWAYS BETTER WHEN WE'RE TOGETHER....

OUR DREAMS ARE MADE OUT OF REAL THINGS....

packing --happy Monk -- though not as melancholy as Tony Shalhoub's character, i do possess a monk-ality of sorts.  so packing is a challenge.  time for toiletries countdown.  Lliterally as I stand at vanity counting the q-tips -- einstein would be proud -- 2 people x 7 days = 14 but then 2 ears = 28 + 4 if xtra need arises.  Phew...So there we go 32 q-tips.  Some may question, why not take the whole pack?  Because....as I've grown older I have become a minimalist AND with the movement of years I have become more frugal -- so I buy in bulk.  Nate would flip his skin (bald) if I took an xtra suitcase just for q-tips.  On later reflection of my Q-tip OCD-like experience, i realize a deeper meaning -- at this point some may think, wow, how nurturing why does she feel the need to make sure they both have q-tips?  Just a nurturing nature?  I think not.  the q-tips for my sweetness is simple:  so he can hear me (though I say little)... BUT the q-tips for me (here comes my selfish nature) so I can hear the ocean tide at daybreak & days end -- he is a man of fewer words than I.  We both like Jack Johnson:-) And we both know "our dreams are made out of real things."

SAND & SUN...AND ON THE FIRST MORNING

HE SAID HE LOVED ME "JUST BECAUSE".  I GRABBED HIS HAND AND DRAGGED HIM TO THE SUNRISE.  HE GOT IT! OBX 11/10/10

LAST REQUESTS...

"Coffee, any last requests?"
"To see the sunrise twixt your fingers, as we both listen to the tide."
"Slurp." 
We thanked each other:-)


WAKE UP, MAGGIE (the other wife)

He argues with Maggie (I named my Magellan when I bought her 2 years ago).  I wonder in dog-years how old she is now.  She's shared many a mile with us.  As I was saying --
He's arguing with Maggie (& me) -- I parrot Maggie's instructions as he wheels into the donut shop to ask for directions, just to prove her wrong.  She patiently accepts his challenge.  We both wait (it's a woman thing).  He swears we should be going north.
He strolls back to us, long slow strides...as if a dread in step.  Eases back into his cockpit still-warm seat.  Quietly says, (member this is Nate) "Sorry, Maggie."...."Sorry, Susan." 
Giddy, I respond, "That's fine.  Now you have two women to argue with."  I tell him, "Stay mad at Maggie.  I want to be the fun wife."  He promises, I can. 
I win!!!!
Sorry, Maggie.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JYkQo1Qxt0

ROADS! AND RANDOM CONVERSATIONS ON THEM!

think..think...think...thank you very much. 


I love road trips.  All who know me know this.  I love conversations on a road trip.  And I love silent interludes on road trips.  OBX, Nov. 2010, road trip conversation:
     Me:  Do you think there will be road trips in Heaven? 
     He:  Dunno.
Silent Interlude.
     He:  But I can promise you there will be no detours.
I love it when he promises me stuff.
Quiet hum of tires rolling.
     Me:  (Pondering driving down golden streets, hearing angels in the distance singing).
A dip in the road snaps me back to him and Nora Jones.  Golden sunlight glistens through the sunroof.
Heaven Can Wait, Mr. Beatty.


I love roads.  I love quotes about roads.  I love to look at pictures of roads and take pictures of roads.  Dirt roads, I like (even in a black car) because they often lead to obscure places.  City roads (more commonly called streets), I like because they often lead to excitement, a bustling source of entertainment, a dismission from loneliness,  museums, plays, or shopping...and lots and lots of lights.  Country roads (take me home), I cannot say enough about those.  Even bumpy, dippy, pothole roads....they keep your senses keen, slowing you to a pace you probably should be going in the first place.  Freeways, my least favorite, but they can take us faster, farther...so they serve their purpose well. 
I love Rocky Road ice cream.  And grooving up slowly....with joo joo eyeballs.




Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything. Charles Kuwalt.


Loch Lomond is the largest loch/lake in Great Britain, by surface area. 


Chorus from The Bonnie Banks o' Loch Lomond


Oh! Ye'll take the high road, and I'll take the low road,
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye,
But me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.

The original author is unknown. One story is that the song was written by a Scottish soldier who awaited death in enemy captivity; in his final letter home, he wrote this song, portraying his home and how much he would miss it. Another tale is that during the1745 Rebellion a soldier on his way back to Scotland during the 1745-6 retreat from England wrote this song. The "low road" is a reference to the Celtic belief that if someone died away from his homeland then the fairies would provide a route of this name for his soul to return home.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P687O8JiDpU

and then there is the poem:
      The Road Not Taken.....Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,


And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.  






So as for me and roads...there are roads that lead to somewhere.  There are roads that lead to anywhere and unfortunately we have all experienced a road, now and again, that led to nowhere.  Then....there are the roads, the very special roads connecting memories to possibilities, possibilities to expectations.  These are the roads I label:  THE ROADS THAT LEAD TO EVERYWHERE....


and then there's walking.....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYxWXPKU7jY