Our unexpectedly glorious Oregon vacation — from Portland to Crater Lake, Bend to Ashland to Gleneden Beach, mountains and beaches, baseball and Shakespeare — was over.
We made the long drive back to from where we had started in Portland, went to the airport, got on a plane and flew home to Boston.
The end of a vacation is always disappointing, but surely there would be another vacation, another flight, if not later that year — it was only the end of June, after all — then fairly early the next.
That was going on three years ago.
I haven’t been on a plane since.
COVID is an obvious reason to explain two of those years, and it certainly hasn’t helped.
But there have been other obstacles, the last of which have now been cleared, other than renewing my driver’s license (I’m not sure they’ll be quite so understanding if this happens again) and going for my next booster shot after I turn 50 at the end of the month.
So now we’re planning a vacation around our anniversary in July, and it looks like we’re going to do it.
Yes, we’re going to see if Switzerland is actually real, or an elaborate construct consisting of mostly trains and mountains they call Alps.
This realization that we’re actually going to be able to go somewhere set fully alight something in Suzi that has had to satisfy itself with meal lists or pre-Christmas festivities — her desire to plan things.
We had hardly decided on the trip before the guidebooks were out, a preliminary itinerary already developed. Needless to say, I gave her some good-natured grief over it, but as always the joke’s on me.
For one thing, it’s her obsessive planning that makes our vacations work as well as they do, that we’ll have time to visit our friend in Basel, get to The Olympic Museum in Lausanne and try to find an Alp that’s not overrun with people.
Plus it’s not like I don’t have my own moments of geek, mostly insisting that I take part in the buying of plane tickets and reserving of hotels, even if it’s largely saying that the recommendations she has already found are fine with me.
When I was musing about how my noise-canceling headphones wouldn’t work with my new iPhone, I was very excited to learn there’s a small attachment that would solve the problem, and more excited to have acquired said attachment.
Listening to music on the plane, sorted.
I must also confess that I can’t wait to chronicle my first time back at the airport, because I’m a dork who enjoys airports way too much.
And while I bust her chops about planning a vacation that’s three months away … it’s only three months away.
In a few weeks, all of a sudden it’ll be just two months away.
My birthday’s not long after that, and then one day I’ll realize “Vacation’s only a month away.”
And then the days will tick down, one by one, until it’s three weeks away, then two, then the last hellish week.
At the end, we’ll get on a plane for the first time in three years.
It always sneaks up on me, but Suzi knows it’s always closer than I think.
Stuff I read
Kristian is made up of many different pieces.
Renata is trying to build some affirmations into her life.
Bella got up at an ungodly hour to hike up a volcano. It was worth it, though.
What would you do with $44 billion? Fran has some ideas.
Savannah explains why she got lip injections.
Aaron visited his old college. It was little bit of a mixed bag.
Claire really hates the term “mum boss.”
Austin ruminates on whether he misses being married and reminds us that Holly is not real.
To respond to Becky’s questions in her April recap:
- Not too bad … baseball season started.
- No, because it refuses to tick over into consistent warm weather.
- My birthday is coming up.
Pea Green snatched a few moments.
According to Michelle, sometimes you just have to say …
Pepper’s decluttering efforts hit a bit of a setback.
Tweets I liked
Which is why I hate yardwork. No matter how much I do, I never make any progress.
I will get over things on my own time … thank you very much.
My record in the Captain’s Quiz indicates I’m not always the best at Paul’s contests, but I bet I’d be good at glow-in-the-dark mini-golf.
I do the same thing when people compliment me … oops, I’m afraid I may have revealed too much.