There once was a girl in Nantucket...

Our adventure to Nantucket began with a drive to Hyannis Port where, I'm proud to say, I learned how to eat a raw oyster.  I now know that the problem I had the first time was not because the oyster was raw, but because it hadn't been fully detached.  No wonder I choked!  Not this time though.  The lovely waitress at The Naked Oyster made sure that I had a lovely experience if I was brave enough to try it again.  Oh, it was fresh and wonderful.  Although I tried twice more on our trip, they failed to measure up to this burst of sweet and salty brilliance.  The bar has been set.

After lunch, we caught the fast ferry to the island of Nantucket.  I've never been good at limericks, but I do remember that they often highlighted Nantucket and not usually in the best of ways.  Such a shame for Nantucket is a delightful place and we didn't have nearly enough time.  Steeped in history, there are several different kinds of cobblestone on the streets. I would have liked the time to figure out which streets are oldest.

Nantucket was a blend of ocean air, hydrangeas and hibiscus.   It is both romantic and touristy.   I think that I would enjoy it tremendously if we had more time to explore on shoulder season.   There is much to see, lots of little shops to explore, and fortunately for us, Sweet Inspirations.  The chocolate covered cranberries are wonderful, but better still are the salted caramels. I'm a sucker for artisan chocolate and the bulk of our  Nantucket dollars were spent here.

Nantucket...you'll see us again when we can spend more time getting acquainted.

Lessons from the Labyrinths

We rented a yurt at the  Harmony Hill Retreat Centre.   The Retreat is far away from pretty much anything.  As a nice relaxing place to unwind it was perfect, particularly after our close encounter with the creatures. 

I have a dear friend who is fond of labyrinths.  I had never walked one before, and I was quite interested.  I always thought that a labyrinth and a maze were the same thing, but as I learned on a walk through a maze later in the trip, they are not.  My friend equated the walking of a labyrinth with prayer.  It is one long continuous path towards a focal point at the centre, whereas a maze has several false turns and stops that force one to backtrack often.  On this trip, we found two to walk. 

The labyrinth at  Heritage Museums and Gardens (where, by the way, we saw a fascinating exhibit of Norman Rockwell's work) is a 7-circuit design, and wound around trees in the garden.  This design is very calming, and it is possible to walk it without needing to pay attention.   It goes in a long continuous circle, although it is designed like two intertwined coils. 

The labyrinth at Harmony Hill is (I think) an 11-circuit design, and is the first one I have ever stepped on.  I chose to walk it first by myself. My friend had indicated that sometimes it is hard to concentrate and I found this to be true.  The path appeared to head directly to the centre and while sometimes it came tantalizingly close, there were many twists and turns that took me far away before I arrived.  Needing to concentrate on the path was very relaxing for me, and I appreciated the experience very much.

The next day, the guys walked it with me.  This was completely different.  There was enough distraction that more than one of us lost our place.  It was faster and noisier and harder to concentrate. In fact, it was a bit chaotic, even though we had the same goal.  I realized that I would have to walk this labyrinth many times before I could do it without concentrating on it.

Just two of us walked it again before we left.   What fascinated me was how different the experience was again.  Yes, we were on exactly the same path, but we didn't travel at the same speed.  Consequently, there were moments when we were walking one in front of the other, then side by side, and once we were at completely opposite ends of the circle.  There were times when we looked to be going in different directions, even though we were headed to the same place.   And, because he left the centre before I did, there was even a moment of direct conflict, as one had to step off the path in order to let the other continue on it.

It occurred to me that many relationships are like this.  Those that are the strongest, the most fulfilling, are the ones that we concentrate on.  It takes intentionality as we walk along the path towards the common goal of loving and caring for each other.  Sometimes one walks ahead of the other, sometimes we appear to be at odds when we're not, and other times, the path encourages us to walk side by side in support of each other.

I am going to seek out more labyrinths.  I want to be able to recognize the same path when I see it.

Photo Finish

I've never gone to the horse races before.  I remember watching Secretariat race once on television.  My grandmother was watching it and I remember how fond she was of horses.  I've loved horses ever since...from a distance.  They still kind of freak me out up close.  As a kid, my sister and I went on a trail ride once.  I remember walking was boring, that cantering was painful, but galloping,  well, that was as close to flying as one could get.  I fell in love with Seabiscuit when the movie came out.  But I'd never seen horses race live before.

Oh, it was an exciting day.  We went to Saratoga Springs Racetrack, which displays a carnival atmosphere before you even get in.  From the ticket lineup to the clubhouse, there were little kiosks and music and carnival smells.  Since we reserved trackside seating in the restaurant, we made our way there and were absolutely delighted with our seats.

We arrived in time for lunch and Dave tried to explain how to read the race card, what to look for, what the various codes meant.   Being the brave gamblers that we all are, we each had a $20 limit.  How did we do?  Let's just say that one of us retained enough to treat the other two to ice cream for the rest of the week.  

There were some thrilling moments--in the second race, Solitaire lost to Hangover Kid in a photo finish.  See how close they were?   The difference was only in the timing of their stride and which forefeet landed first.  I cheered with everyone else, urging these horses towards the finish line directly in front of our table. That was part of the fun, but not part of the joy.  The joy was found in witnessing beautiful creatures run full out.

It's how I want to run my own race, to give it everything I've got, whether I win in the end or not.

Of mice and....mice

First stop on our annual not-quite-camping vacation  took us to a little cabin tucked away in a New York state forest.  Truth be told, it was away from many things, but that suited us. The cabin had seen better days, true, but then, so have a great many other cabins.  This one had three bedrooms, a kitchenette, a nice little porch table to eat at.  

It also had a few mouse traps.  Dave had arrived first, and had been told that the kids from the last family that stayed there, left the door open and it was possible a mouse had gotten inside.  They apologized,  but since they weren't certain, Dave said okay.  

We cooked supper, did the dishes, went to bed.  In the morning, we were readying to do breakfast dishes, when Dave opened the cupboard door under the sink and found the remains of the critter who had not been there the night before. 

As unsettling as that was, we were glad that we didn't have to worry about the mouse anymore. 

That evening however, as we three were settled in for a quiet evening after a very full day adventuring, it became clear that there wasn't just one mouse.  Our initial gasp sent it scurrying away again, through a hole in the wall that went into the room that I had slept in the night before.  While the guys were in there trying to find it, another mouse crossed the room.  He went right to the mousetrap, moved it several inches, and ... honestly, I don't remember what happened to him after that. 

Except that it wasn't THAT.  Not yet. 

The guys put a wine cork in a hole in the floor right under the bed I had slept in.  They put a water bottle in the wall where he had gone through.   Nonetheless, I was not going to sleep in that room again.  No, I laid claim to the top bunk in the other room.  Even then, it took a while to quit imagining that I was hearing scurrying sounds.   I'm not actually sure that I was imagining,  but it was the only way I was going to be able to sleep, so let's just leave it at that. 

Those imagined sounds may have been preferable to the loud whack we all heard an hour or so later.  Being dutiful men, the guys went out to check and sure enough, THAT had happened.  Two mice down. 

In the morning, I walked to the office and quietly complained.  I explained that they didn't have one mouse, they had a mouse infestation.  We knew of at least three.  I explained about the hole in the floor, the thought that they were coming in under the kitchen sink, the unfortunate task the guys had of removing not one, but two mice.  I suggested that they give Dave a significant refund. 

After explaining that they'd had an appointment with an exterminator who didn't show up, that they really thought there was only one (and a few other excuses that I really wasn't letting her get away with), the manager asked me what I thought would be reasonable. 

"Look", I said, "I'm a fifty-year old woman who spent the night on the top bunk for pete's sake.  FREE sounds good to me, but since we did use your linens I'll leave it to your sense of honour." 

It's only because she completely refunded us for the two nights that I am not saying where that cabin is. She did her best to make it right, she promised not to rent the cabin again until the problem was fixed.  They don't deserve the negative publicity. 

But they don't deserve positive publicity either.   

In fact, I'd just like to forget about them altogether. 

The castle called again

It's become a bit of a pilgrimage.  Long-time friends, newer friends, and friends-yet-to-be await me at the castle.  Each June we gather, tell stories, invent characters, laugh at our follies, learn from our mentors.

This year was the same, but better. God breathes life into the sandstone sculptures around the castle, dances with them in the morning light, sharpens them during the brightness of the midday sun and when evening comes, softens them with clouds bogging goodnight.

Every year, Angie--sweet, humble, gentle, precise Angie--cries because her heart is so full.  She teaches honestly and without apology.  She is a gem of a woman, and this year I grew to love her more.

Every year, Nancy--lovely, funny and oh so wise Nancy--stands up and provides backup to the theme song for the year.  She wanted to be a backup singer for the Supremes in another life.  She is fearless. She intentionally spends time with people, engaged and focused.  It isn't easy, and she does it with grace.

And every year, Kathy--quiet, nature loving, hike the hills Kathy--speaks from her heart the profound truths she learns on her walks.   She gives of herself in 20 minute bursts of brilliance.  Everyone who spends this one-on-one time with her walks away with something they can apply to their writing immediately.  She grasps concepts and story lines with astonishing speed.   She zeros in on weaknesses and strengths, and she does it all with such humility and kindness.

There are others, of course.  Mark who was my mentor this year.   Sue, who first invited me there.  Lee, who made me smile just by walking in the room.  Amy and her mom.  Kay and Loretta.  These are my people,  my friends.

I almost didn't go this year.  I literally decided to at the last minute.  For me, it was the best year yet.  I've learned that I belong at this place, with these people, learning these things, sharing these dreams and hurts and challenges.   The last thing we do as a group is sing "You are important to me.  I need you to survive".  We hug, we cry, we say "see you next time."   I am inspired and encouraged.  I am blessed.


As I was preparing this post yesterday, a fire broke out in Colorado Springs.  Our beloved castle has been evacuated, and I am so grateful that everyone is safe.  The fire though--2500 acres, zero containment--seeks to devour more.  One of the saddest things for me to read on twitter last night was "deer and other wildlife running in a panic through the forest".

I am praying for the people of Colorado today, and especially for my Glen Eyrie.  You are important to me. I need you to survive.

Eight years, day four

It is kind of sad to be leaving our getaway place.  I am not about to give up one last go in the massage tub, so I start my day with a glorious hour there. To my surprise (but not to Martin's) I actually fall asleep!   As I am drying my hair, Martin comes to get me.

"Hurry or you'll miss them", he says so I come out with hair all askew and he takes me to the balcony and points across the lake.  Two deer are crossing the ice and it is breathtakingly beautiful.  I care not that my hair is every which way and that it's probably not going to get a lot prettier than that.  I grab my camera and watch.

They are tentative, slipping here and there.  Sometimes, I hear a loud cracking sound, and I realize that it is the ice responding to them.  It has been warmer than usual, and the ice is not very thick.  We comment that we hope they will not fall in.   One tentatively gets a few feet ahead of the other, and then returns to make sure his buddy is okay.  It is still early; the fog had lifted just an hour before so everything was in silhouette.  Step. Stumble.  Crack. Pray. Check.

We watch them for the better part of a half hour.  Reaching the bank, they bound over a shrub and disappear as though nothing of importance has just happened.

***************

Two weeks have passed since that day.  I watch the video, look at the pictures.  They are grainy because of the low light, a bit blurry because I didn't use a tripod.  They certainly wouldn't factor in any photography contest.

As a life lesson though, they couldn't be more perfect.

Step.  Stumble.  Crack.  Pray.  Check.

Eight years, day three

There was much for me to be excited about for day three.  Ever since I was small, I have loved sleigh rides (even though once, for my birthday I was chasing after it and tripped in a hoof print and smashed my nose on the wagon).  I had wanted one for our wedding, but we just couldn't make it work, and in the end it was just as well because the temperature with the wind chill had been in the -40C area.

Brilliant Julien (from the hotel) helped me find a place for the ride, and we chose Ferme Duquette near Val-David.   Martin asked what we were doing, and I tossed out that we were zip-lining, but I am not sure he heard me say that I was totally lying, so I suspect he was a wee bit nervous as I made him drive 45 minutes away from the hotel.   The weather could not have been more perfect but I made sure that we had warm (if somewhat mismatched) clothes.

The two horses were gorgeous (Belgians I think), and oh how beautifully they were trained!  A click or a whisper from the driver was all it took for them to do his bidding.   Bundled up in the back, we drove right past the amusing WOAH sign, and into the forest.  The horses were so familiar with the 5 km sleigh-only trail and seemed to know instinctively when to speed up in order to crest the hill.   Consequently, the ride was smooth as  chocolate mousse. The swoosh of the runners was accompanied by the delicate clicks and trills of chickadees.  The gang of flirty woodpeckers were a surprise because I always thought they were solitary birds.   It was bright and crisp, but we were warm enough under the blankets.  We smiled, the whole way.

We got a bit lost on the drive home because the instructions I printed from google for the back roads had street names that didn't match, and the GPS couldn't pick up a signal.  It was all part of the adventure, but that is when I started to get cold.  With only a half tank of gas, in a rural area of Quebec where it can be a bit more difficult to understand the colloquial French, we did not want to get truly lost.    So we backtracked a bit, picked up the highway again and returned to the hotel.  It didn't take long to get warmed through with the massage tub and the fireplace!  We followed that up by more reading out loud (get that book, please).

A more perfect day cannot be imagined!