I have got to stop this practice of promising the kids I'll do something the following day when I'm too tired to do it when they asked. I do it in hopes that they will forget, but kids rarely forget. Instead, they remember FIRST THING IN THE MORNING. Case in point - 7 a.m. Eleanor bounces into our room bursting with excitement because (drink) "TODAY IS THE DAY YOU PROMISED WE WOULD PUT UP THE EASTER DECORATIONS AND CAN WE PUT THEM UP NOW PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE?" (DRINK) After explaining that we needed to shower and have breakfast and...BREATHE...first, she backed off only to return 30 seconds later demanding that I paint her nails while she's waiting (drink) because I promised yesterday. ‘Dammit yesterday Jill,’ I cursed myself.
After the decorations were unearthed from the attic, strategically placed, nails were painted WITH STICKERS, (drink) and breakfast and lunch were served, I snuck out for a walk. I imagine isolation has led people to rediscover passions they dismissed years ago as frivolous and self indulgent, clearing their calendars for more important endeavors like shuttling kids to activities and working overtime to pay for those activities. But now, life is different, and suddenly, there is time to turn your kitchen into a bakery or crochet a blanket or bring back family game night. My long forgotten passion (aside from writing), is walking. Alone. (Drink)
Not only does walking alone clear my head, it also allows me to walk fast. I detest walking in big groups or with a lollygagger. When I set out on a walk with the kids, I have to mentally brace myself for pace frustration. As a kid, I remember my dad imploring my siblings, "shoulder to shoulder!" which was his way of saying, 'move your ass!' I was the only one who could keep up with him which earned me the exclusive privilege to join him on his four mile loop. I wore that badge proudly, and to this day, prefer to set out at a brisk clip.
So off I went, excited to explore a nearby neighborhood. We moved just four months ago, so I still had virgin territory to roam. The roads were mine to wander - it was so freeing to turn where I wanted - left, right...who cares? Just me to worry about. Before GPS, I (drink) didn't have this freedom. I have what may well be THE WORST sense of direction EVER. If you ask me which way to go, and I wager a guess, do yourself a favor and go the other way. I have my GPS on all the time, even if I think I know where I'm going because I've been known to butcher the simplest of routes. GPS has literally changed my life. So armed with the freedom of solidarity and (drink) guaranteed wayward bailout, I was feeling maybe a little overzealous.
At one point, I came to a dead stop, a weirdly abrupt dead end (drink) with no cul de sac. Just a stop. On closer examination, I noticed that just beyond a small wooded area at the road's end was a vastly open green space. I inched closer, and realized it must be a golf course. 'I wish I could get over there,' I thought to myself. But their was no path through the woods and I turned around, ready to retrace my steps.
Something stopped me, though. It was a voice in my head - my grandmother's voice. Tomorrow she would have been 102. "Have a little chutzpah," she would have said, referencing a Yiddish phrase basically meaning "grow a pair." So I surveyed the terrain and mentally mapped a route with only a little bushwhacking required. On the other side, I emerged, and there before me was endless green, a golf course with not a soul on it.
It felt like a dream. Or a dream within a dream because the last few weeks have felt far from the realms of reality. (Drink) This may seem super dramatic, but it was the most calming, liberating feeling being the only person in the middle of a completely vacant, beautiful golf course. The only sensations were the sounds of my feet on the pavement and a couple hopeful birds chirping, the smell of fresh air, and the gentle tap of my watch on my wrist every few minutes, (drink) thrilled I was finally using the "workout" feature which had sat dormant for two years.
I am not a golfer. I have never walked an entire golf course. Golf courses are big. And the paths scattered here and there for the carts are just that - scattered. For those of us who are directionally challenged, they are recipes for (drink) confusion. Finally, I found the exit, and ready to head home I looked around to assess my bearings. But wait. A sign across the street indicated I was in the next town over. I quickly referred to my lifeline and sure enough, I was an hour from home. Oh, Jill. I texted James to let him know I would be late due to my shortcoming. He responded with...
He is used to this. (Drink)
It was a Corona Virus adventure and it did clear my head despite the unanticipated lengthy expedition. And, on a really random side note, I noticed an alarming number of nips littering the roads. I've always noticed them, but there seemed to be more than usual. This may not be a popular opinion, but I think we should adopt Australia's roadie rule (Google it). Might cut down on nip pollution.
That's all I got which brings me full circle. I'm more tired than usual after that jaunt. It is entirely possible that I will make promises tonight that I will regret in the morning.