I wanted to relax, sincerely I did...
Two days before we left for the idyllic Georgia mountains, I was planning on getting organized...camping is not for the faint of heart. You have to clear the cobwebs, whirligigs and spiders out of the camper, haul all the containers into the house and pack them with food and clothing for the trip. There's lots to prepare for and think about. But no, during those two jolly prep days my phone started going off like a danged siren. And you have to say that like "S-i-r-e-n-e"...like it rhymes with Irene, because it's bigger than a regular one. Everybody and his brother wanted to buy or sell a house, sign a contract, inquire about a piece of land, get out of something or bite me. I woke up before dawn each day and threw myself in the bed after midnight for two days. Ken got off work early on Friday and hitched the camper up while I was still talking to clients and tossing things into hampers. We tore off down the highway and I wasn't quite sure if I was coming or going. When we got to the campground, I discovered there was no Wifi, so I parked myself at the Ingles cafe in the town until they forced me out at 11:00 at night. Little Annabelle played games with Papa's phone while I sweated bullets over contracts and tried not to cuss. The good part about all of this was that there were four of our grandchildren parked next door in their camper for a few of those days. At least there was that...
This summed up most of my week, except we discovered the campground did indeed have Wifi. It was in the game room next to the office, where there was service, but alas, no air conditioning. I spent much of the week there, where I could see Ken out the window in all his splendor, laying out getting a tan like a king on the lawn next to the lake while I grinded out amendments and drama. We were both in our elements: Ken was happy, clocked out and in his introverted bubble. He'd turn over once every twenty minutes like a skewer, getting a nice, even tan while listening on his earbuds or reading on his Ipad. I was up in the game room, my extroverted self, meeting many awesome strangers as I banged out contracts and made calls. It was a surreal kind of vacation, like none we've ever had. I don't recommend it.
On July 4, the last night the grands were there with their folks, we went to see the fireworks with all the other rednecks. The next morning, they pulled out and went home. I see my people often, I mean, they only live 15 minutes away from us, but I bawled like a baby. Maybe it's just the same song and dance that time is marching on too quickly, or maybe it was that a dear friend died the day before...so I was feeling especially vulnerable. Then my phone started frantically buzzing again and I spent the next four days tamping down numerous real estate deals, each one dramatic and requiring vast amounts of time and emotion. There came a point where I literally raised my hands and gave up. I think that's where He wanted me anyways, and cussing sure don't help. The last night we were there, it was late and I was still up at the game room. There were folks playing pool and talking all around. I was sitting in a puddle of sweat, chatting with various people as I tried to send emails and finish up a contract. I decided I wasn't going any further until I got my hinder parts parked back home in front of my monster computer screen. I pulled out a bag of quarters and challenged some little 11-year-old girl to a game of Foosball. I warned her that I had mad skills. Her Daddy was standing there and laughed. People never believe me when I tell them that. Teenage boys don't believe me. 20-year-old young men don't believe me. They look at this mature, fluffy, blonde lady who seems harmless and they have no clue about what lies beneath. I enjoy this rarely-used part of my life. Her Dad joined her and they played me, 2-on-1, and I whupped them for about 10 games or so. It's really terrible, how much fun that was, but I'm pretty sure they'll be okay.
Forever and a day later to get there, but let the record show: there's no place like home.
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