Archive for 'Places'
Ahh vacation. We all take and love vacation, but I bet only a few of us actually experience it according to the true meaning of the word. The Latin origin of the word comes from “Vacare” ~ to be both mentally and physically free and empty of your usual occupations. I bet the majority of us are quite good at saying adios to our place of employment for a week, but rarely do we really let our brains be free of their daily binding obligations. That’s not so easy these days when we all have iThingies and crackberries that allow us 24 hour access to email, internet, voicemail, and apps that cook chicken pot pies. I know it is hard for me to completely disconnect. The idea of vacation has definitely evolved for me. I can remember 13 years ago driving from South Bend Indiana to Panama City Florida for several days of start to finish binge drinking, sunburn, and failed pickup lines. Put me in Panama City now and I would probably be laughed out of Harpoon Harry’s because of my ill fitted swimsuit, farmers tan, and gray hair. I’d be like Frank the Tank the first night then Boo Radley the next 3 nights, blinds pulled in my hotel room as I complain about my hangover. I just can’t do it like I used to.
But this last vacation was at the pace I now prefer. We spent it on the quiet and remote shores of Hunters Bay on Lake Roosevelt. Once you arrive, your automobile becomes the last resort of transportation to navigate the endless acres of ranch land, wheat fields, and shoreline. After coming here for six years, I am still shocked that you can spend all day on the water with clear skies and perfect temperatures, and only see a handfull of other boats taking advantage of this beautiful lake. It felt great to spend five days with my wife Melanie and daughter Samantha. We even brought Molly the dog and Henry the fish, a true family vacation. Saturday seemed a step back in time as our group participated in the no-stoplight town of Hunters’ annual Fair and Parade. Nothing says country like a good tractor pulled hayride through town or an old fashioned nail hammering contest. It was relaxing and peaceful and it came just at the right time. I still managed to get pulled into my email and found myself foolishly trying to deal with work issues that would have been patiently waiting for me upon my return, but I know better now. Next time I will truly disconnect. It will be me, my family and friends, nature…. and a jarful of Cashmere moonshine. Happy 30th b-Day Harp D!
one of the best things about spending memorial day weekend in seabeck washington, tucked away down a gravel road along the shores of hood canal, was that there was no cell service there. no one was calling, and no one to call simply because you couldn’t. no urge to check email. no facebook or twitter. and best of all, no clock or watch to convince me that it was too early to have a whiskey. it was just a small group of friends doing what we wanted to, or nothing at all for that matter. you knew it was meal time when the aroma of seasoned roast lamb was making your mouth water, or the jalapeño salsa for the fresh halibut tacos was singeing your sense of smell. at one in the morning, we took the small aluminum fishing boat out to the middle of the canal, shut the motor off, and floated in a calming silence I have not heard in a long time. growing up in the seattle area my parents always took my siblings and I west to places like hood canal, the coast, or camping at the heart o’the hills in the olympic national park. in my teens and twenties, i always headed to central and eastern washington. but this trip took me back as my wife and i watched our daughter attempt to capture little sand crabs on the oyster covered beach exposed by the low tide. a big thank you to our host anne marie for welcoming us. and a sincere thank you to all the service men and women we celebrate and remember on memorial day. thank you for being the ones who have fought and died to protect and preserve our ability to freely spend time with our friends and family on the beautiful backdrop of our american soil.
