Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: a weekend away, In the Southland, Oversharing, Spouse
and, no more navel gazing, at least not until next time. I promise.
So, the afternoon of Christmas Day (the morning of which was lovely and quiet. #4 gifted me with a rubber mallet and a set of chisels, because I am always griping about them not rinsing their dishes thus resulting in me saying something like “Now I need a hammer and chisel to get this mess up!”) we drove to Alabama to spend a bit of time with my parents and CJ (#3 son, who is living with them while looking for work…that’s another post.) CJ gifted #4 with a tricked out left handed .22 rifle, which #4 promptly used to hit a 4 inch target from 200 yards away. We were all impressed.
The next morning Terry and I left for the much anticipated 3 days in a secluded mountain cabin, where we essentially…well. Ok. I didn’t wear pants for the entire time. Or much of anything else,for that matter. There was a hot tub, and there was the end-of-the-trip reminder from Terry. “My sweat is the secret ingredient in Cialis.” And that’s all I’ve got to say about THAT.
We stayed here, in this cabin. It was rainy and gross when we drove up there, which wasn’t really an issue because we weren’t going to hike or do anything outdoorsy, and the cabin is comfortably equipped with a humongous hot tube and a lovely woodstove. The very moment Terry stepped out of the truck to check in at the main office, the rain turned to snow, and it was beautiful, big fat flakes like a welcoming committee that said “Of course it’s snowing! You’re in the mountains and there’s a hot tub!” Did I mention that the cabin is equipped with a hot tub? Sitting in the hot tub first thing in the morning (which is, inexplicably, 4am for us), when the woodstove hasn’t warmed up yet, and the coffee is fresh and hot…y’all, that’s bliss for me. Also having a big hairy man in a plaid flannel shirt and good fitting jeans which totally appeals to my Lumberjack Fantasy…but that’s all I’m going to say about that.
It was…probably…well, it probably ranks right up there with our honeymoon for an entry on the short list of Best Times Ever.
Also? That Lumberjack did ALL the cooking and ALL the cleaning up. All of it. He recognized that vacations tend to not be much of a vacation for me, as I generally do the cooking and cleanup just like I do at home. So he did ALL of it and all I had to do was sit around and read, soak in the hot tub, and not wear pants (or much else). I did wear a bathrobe, as the cabin could be cool, and in spite of being way out in the woods, there was an inherent reluctance to stand on the porch in the altogether.
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