Taking the long way home

"My life is my message." - Mahatma Ghandi


My husband wanted to go for a ride today again, so I set up a few rules for our "little drive up the road." The rules were as follows:

1.) No turning the heat to 85 degrees inside the car when it is a delightfully beautiful day like today (mid 60's). My husband is always saying he's cold and I'll be sitting in the car with the vents blowing that hot air in my face and that's supposed to be enjoyable? I don't think so. He promised to abide by this rule since it makes perfect sense however I ended up turning the temperature down no less than 5 times during our ride. It's a habit that will be hard to break, I think.

2.) No NHL Home Ice on XM radio and no 60's music for longer than 10 minutes because he won't compromise on the music with me and will yell at me for liking music made in this decade. I told him that if he broke this rule, then I'd put my IPOD in my ears and ignore him. I didn't have to do this until we were on the way home (we started off at noon time and never got home until 7:30 PM.) I know.

3.) No talking about bills. This is one of his favorite topics. No matter how many times I tell him all the bills are paid (because we sit and pay them TOGETHER, mind you), he continues to ask me if they're all paid. He slipped up once which was pretty good for him considering on a bad day he'll ask me hourly (and surprisingly, the answer never changes!) I know!

Anyway, those were the basics because I didn't want to completely lose my sanity during an afternoon drive. We're scouting out land in the mountains to build a house in another year or so. Up until just recently I have fought going anywhere that felt too isolated and peaceful. I like being where the action and noise is. I like accessible shopping. But this place we've found feels a little like heaven and when I stand outside and look around I think that I could be happy there. It's the kind of place where I will be forced to be alone with my thoughts and deal with them head on instead of pushing them away until another day and I think that might be good for me. I hate moving with a passion but my husband loves moving especially if there is money is to be made. We are so totally opposite of one another it's not funny.

We had a great afternoon except for me getting a little car sick when we were whipping up and down roads in a neighborhood nestled deep in the mountains. I had to ask him to stop at a Rite Aid to get a package of Rolaids to settle my stomach. I hate being caught without Rolaids because you never know when you might need them.

I think I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving even though I didn't realize it's next week. I guess that means I need to get a turkey. It's just me, my husband and two of my kids because everyone else lives out of state. I cook all day then we sit down and in approximately 7 minutes everyone is finished and they up leave me with the mess.

I can hardly wait.

All day Saturday

"Happiness is not a station you arrive at, but a manner of traveling." - Margaret B. Runbeck

My husband and I left for a "little drive up the road" at 11:00 AM this morning and didn't return until 7:30 PM this evening. It was an absolutely beautiful day. The leaves are just beginning to turn in the mountains up here and there was an Oktoberfest happening in one of the little towns. Everyone was drinking up a storm and seemed not to have a care in the world. We did some shopping, but mostly we drove around places we had never been before. My husband loves doing stuff like this and I have to be in the mood to go along because I know what I'm in for when I agree to go on a "little drive up the road." I take along whatever book I am reading at the moment, a magazine or two, and my IPOD for good measure because he likes the oldies and talk radio and I don't.

We went out to dinner and collected "homes for sale" books from all the places we passed through because he's always on the lookout for a new home even though I keep telling him I want to find a home where I know I will live forever. He's like a traveling gypsy and I am like a thousand year old tree whose roots dig so deep into the earth that you will never be able to move me. I keep going along with the moves because they have served us well financially, however that does not stop me from wanting to find one place where I can stay till the end of time.

We discussed my upcoming birthday and what I wanted. I gave him a few ideas and then he suggested that maybe he would get me a new vacuum so that we could give our old vacuum to our middle child for his apartment. I don't think so. I put the kibosh on that clearly-not-in-my-best-interest-present by telling him that vacuums are never presents and what is wrong with him for even suggesting something like that?

We're now watching the Red Sox and wishing them well.