It was the night before Monday and all through my mind, no pleasant thoughts were stirring, and definitely no joy. The day before we had returned from our vacation in the Georgia mountains. The day had gone by in a fog. Somewhere out there was the fading glow of our vacation, but you could not quite see it. Somewhere else out there was the deepening gloom of Monday, but I had my back to it so I wouldn’t have to look. The day was pleasant enough, sitting around relaxing, fiddling about as the last hours of our freedom burned away. We laid down in our bed chamber with nothing better to do early that evening. Our only child had lain down for the night and the house was quiet. The relatively early hour put my mind at ease; knowing that there was still a buffer between myself and work. I opened my eyes and it was dark. The alarm was going off next to me.

&*%$! (Censored)

Yes, there was more to the trip than practicing methods of torture on myself, but good news is a lot less entertaining than bad news – just ask your local news director. Never one to worry about readership, I press on. We made it to our cabin on Tuesday night. As I’ve noted before, that first night was pretty cool; literally and figuratively. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were not so cool in temperature, but just as cool in spirit. We did many of the things we wanted to do. We took Cheryl’s parents on a driving tour on Wednesday. We saw Helen, GA; a city with the distinction of having more tee-shirt shops per capita than any other city in the U.S.

On Thursday Cheryl, Beth and I went on a hiking tour of Rabun County, GA. Our first stop was the Talula Gorge State Park. The distinguishing feature of this park is a large, deep gorge (go figure). What surprised Cheryl and I was just how big and deep it was. Visions of our trip to Utah filled our minds. This hole in the ground was much greener than the canyons in Utah, but it rivaled some of the canyons in size. We destroyed our legs on the staircase down and back up from the bottom of the gorge, but it was worth it. (You try climbing 700 feet worth of stairs and see how you feel.) Sitting on a rock at the bottom, looking across the river, I was at peace. It lasted all of three minutes when Beth announced, “I have to go to the bathroom!” Other than the river, the nearest place to take a tinkle was 700 feet above us. As tempting as the river was, we decided to climb up and seek more conventional means of relief. After climbing out Beth was almost too tired to remember she had to go potty. It was a rare opportunity to see Beth run out of energy.

And on the fourth day, we rested. We did interrupt our day long slumber for a session of horseback riding. I feel nervous letting Cheryl drive; so how do you think I feel being at the mercy of a non-sentient animal that out-weighs me many times over? Every twitch seemed like a sign that the beast was going to go rodeo on me. The ride was mostly pleasant, but when it was over I was glad that I could get off and put a little distance between us on my own terms.

Today we’re driving back home. I’m tired, but it is a good tired. I am filled with the peaceful feeling that we’ve spent our time well; taking in sights and sounds that enrich our memories, living experiences that remind me that there is some good in the world, and best of all – sharing it all with the two people I love most in this world.

Have you ever used one of those peeling thingies to peel a potato? If you have no idea what I’m talking about, then this entry will hold little interest for you. Even if you have it’s probably touch and go. Anyway, imagine what happens to the peel when you use the peeling thingie on a potato. It works so well because it is open on top to allow the peeled substance to drop away. This is precisely why your finger nail makes a lousy peeling thingie (that and it’s not nearly as wide as a peeling thingie, but that’s not important right now). Peeling a potato with your finger nail is not recommended because it’s just not the best way, but at least it won’t cause any permanent damage to your finger. Trying the same exercise on wood paneling is another matter. While a potato is significantly less rigid than your finger, shards of wood paneling are significantly more rigid than the tissue under your finger nail. Imagine my surprise when I notice the shadow of a 3/4 inch piece of wood paneling under my finger nail. Now imagine me hoping around, going through the list of words I don’t want Beth to say.

Let me leave you with this nugget of learned wisdom: it hurts just as much to pull it out as it does to shove it in.