Husband's almost home

Zac’s flight arrives in 22 hours. Not that I’m counting.

It’s been decided. I need a laptop of my own. I’m sitting here on the couch, kicked back watching the Twins game while I blog. This needs to continue. It’s a level of relaxation that I can’t quite adequately describe. The only way this could be any better is if I had a beer next to me. Unfortunately I have no beer in the house and I’m already in my pajamas. My desire to stay on the comfy couch in my comfy pajamas will win this round. Laziness, thy name is Kate.

Wrapping up this weekend – I already talked about Friday night’s birthday party and the cool things my family bestowed upon me. Saturday morning I met Jill for breakfast at the Birchwood Café. I have been living across from the Birchwood for about three years, and I had never been there for breakfast. Jill called me out on my lameness so we met up there for caffeine, good food and even better conversation. I have only recently started to get to know Jill, and I’m saddened that we won’t be able to kick back and hang out more. But I do have that secret ace up my sleeve of being in Hawaii, home of the Ironman race. So I hope that maybe I’ll see her again sooner, rather than later. Note to self: Don’t be stupid and let fantastic new friendships fade with new-found physical distance.

Later that day I met up with my cousin, Sharon, for coffee. We’ve been meeting at the Blue Moon about once every 4-6 weeks for quite awhile now. Certainly since I’ve been back from OKC. When we do coffee, we’re in it for the long haul. Two hours is not unheard of. Often longer. We talk easily and freely about life. I think she works too hard, too often, but I admire her for her work ethic. I hope that at some point she is able to relax a little, sit back, and enjoy all the things that she loves to do. She’s been working two jobs for 10 years, one of them at Borders. Now, I’m a recovering bookseller myself, so I understand the irresistible pull of the bookstore, but I think she needs to take a break to enjoy all those books that she loves so well.

After I said “see you later” to Sharon -- because I’m not saying “good-bye” to people – I faced the decision about whether to go to the Dome one last, final time. “Last” “Final” [sigh] I had hoped to take Zac up there when he got here, but it isn’t going to work out. Not enough time. [muttering to myself – time, time, there’s never enough time] Mom and Dad were up there for the weekend so once I got home from coffee I didn’t give myself enough time to consider that I was tired. I tossed some clothes in a bag, put Toivo in the car, and hopped on the interstate heading north. I got up to the Dome around 7:00. Mom and Dad had grilled up some brats so we sat around eating food, enjoying a beautiful summer evening. We then played a couple hands of three-handed cribbage. Smack talk ensued. It was nice.

Sunday I got up and decided to run the loop. The Dome is on a gravel road which forms a 1.88 mile loop. (Thank you gmap-pedometer for helping me figure that out.) It was only 9:45 when I went out so the sun was lower in the sky and the trees provided a lot of shade. It was still pretty warm already, however, so that when I did come to a clear spot I baked in the sun for the duration of no trees. I felt good that I went. I was glad that I went. I’m sure I won’t be running much in the next few weeks. [time, time, time. mutter.] Then I helped do some yard work moving rocks, which I’m confident also counts as exercise. I rinsed off in the shower and then sat outside on the deck with Mom and Dad, paging through bird identification guides trying to determine what was frequenting the suet feeder. Sunshine, breeze, relaxed. Once I got home, I was exhausted, but very happy I decided to go. I had been very close to staying home, to be lazy on the couch, alone. I made the right choice.

I love the Dome. It is one of my happy places in the world. And I was sad to leave. I went into the garage before I left and took a Sharpie to one of the walls. I wrote “Kate was here 8/17/2008”. I never claimed to be original. I think I just wanted to leave part of me there. So now when I go back next, whenever that is, I can remember exactly the last time I was there.

I smiled and hummed Cookie Monster’s “C is for Cookie” to myself as I drove out of the Dome’s driveway. A few tears fell. It’s what Megan and I used to sing at the top of our lungs when we were little, swinging on the giant tire swing, listening to our song reverberate in the forest. That’s the good stuff. That’s why it’s a happy place. And that’s why I’m glad I went.