A mini-vacation

The boy and my dog

Me at work

I’ve been maintaining radio silence because we’ve been enjoying a few days at  friends’ lake house—a getaway in celebration of my upcoming birthday, arranged on the theory that a change of scenery would do us all good but particularly me since I so rarely get out of the cottage. And it has been refreshing, relaxing, and fun.

When I travel, usually to one of my kids’ houses, I claim a spot that becomes my office. This is no different: my computer and I are set up at the dining table—but with a wonderful view of the lake. It’s  been a great temptation to stare at the water, watching it change as the day

The view from my temporary office

progresses, rather than staring at my computer.

I have long said I love to look at water instead of being in it or on it. Never better than a fair swimmer, I’ve lost what proficiency I had and gained a bit of uncertainty. Even as a child, one of my favorite places was a small outcropping on a dune high above Lake Michigan. I especially liked to watch storms rolling in. In recent years, my “go to” place for my imagination when I’m troubled has been son Colin’s small like. Now I’ve added a new lake spot to my happy and contemplative memories.

While I worked and napped and followed my usual routine, the Burtons enjoyed life on the lake. Jacob in particular was in hog heaven, riding around the lake on a jet-ski, often with one of his parents clinging to him. I think his goal was to see how fast he could go before one or the other complained. Yes, he is water safe—a good swimmer who wears a life jacket and is generally careful and cautious.

We’ve eaten well. Planning for three days is the kind of challenge that brings out  Jordan’s organizational skills. For two weeks or more we’ve been making lists—what to buy at the grocery, what to take from home. While this lake house is frequently occupied by the owners, it’s not set up for a lot of cooking, so we brought everything from home-made frozen spaghetti sauce to my lemon squeezer, the latter never used because we had so much food we never got to tuna salad. But we had chopped steak, and salads, and rotisseries chicken, potatoes, and that spaghetti I labored over.

Another treasured memory from my childhood is a screened-in porch. In Chicago summers, we lived, ate, and slept on our porch. You don’t see them much in Texas because it’s so hot. But this lake house has a lovely screened-in porch, and we sat out there for happy hour and lazy talk after supper.

Screened-in [porch

Sophie loved being here, I think because she was surrounded day and night by most of her favorite people. Drawback for her was that she couldn’t go outside except on a leash—as Christian said, if we let her loose, she’d be in Tulsa in three hours. I do think as she ages she’s beginning to understand that she has a good deal and should stay put. I guess aging brings that wisdom to all of us, because it certainly has to me.

We are so grateful to the friends who said, “Go! Enjoy the lake house!” We have. As I write this, Jordan is cleaning—she has stayed here before and always leaves it in meticulous shape. And then we are headed home. The neat thing is that home is only half an hour away. It’s been a great mini-vacation.