Baby’s asleep, and there’s no Internet. It’s 8:15 Minnesota time, on the first night of our vacation. A real vacation, I mean, away from home, in a different environment—at least for me—for more than a long weekend. Geographically, topographically, ecologically, architecturally, linguistically, economically, nutritionally, we are in a different place.
Sure, it’s not Saint Paul to Cameroon, but even the seemingly slight differences in our own large country matter, and they should be appreciated and savored. We had swordfish and bluefish with our corn-on-the-cob. We are sitting in a shingled cape cod cottage with bare nails poking through the unfinished ceiling. We are on a salt bay beach, complete with sand and shells. We are renting from people with money. Here, we take a baah-th, not a beh-th, and tomorrow, I don’t have to go to work.
And I am going to try not to check my work email.
Not having access to a wireless network will help with that, but then again, how do I blog?
There’s a crib here, but perversely, it’s in the room with the two twin beds. I guess they must figure that anyone with a kid doesn’t want to sleep in the same room as their kid, or maybe they figure that all kids would sleep in that room, and all adults would sleep in others. Yeah, that’s probably it. Didn’t even occur to me until just now. After trying to wheel the crib through the door, I decided that it had been assembled in that room, and that was where it was going to stay. I took out the mattress and put it on the floor in our room, bordered by pillows, and that’s where he is right now. Wiped out and asleep on his back in a probably soaking wet diaper. We’ll pay for it later. I sent Pete back downstairs to be with his family. I’m not done for the day, but I don’t want him to wake up in a strange room by himself, out of earshot. This vacation will probably force us to buy a monitor. We don’t have one at home because our house is like a dollhouse, and we really don’t need it, but this is two stories, and there’s plenty of opportunity and enticement to being outside, under the stars.
I don’t mind. I have things to say. I have a good book. I have two Guinnii. Even without wireless, I think I will be OK.
(Oh, and there's wireless here)