It was a dark and stormy night. . .

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Photo by Jonas Kaiser on Unsplash

It was a dark and stormy night when Lucy was driving home from the beach.  The car headlights were ineffectual even though she had the brights on.  She couldn’t see the side of the road clear enough to dare pulling over.  She slowed the car to a crawl, turned down the radio, and steeled her nerves for what she hoped was the worst of the deluge.

            Her skin was tight and itchy from the last-day-at-the beach-caution-to-the-wind sunburn. The excess alcohol at breakfast exacerbated the situation. The beach trip had been delightful. Due to sundry financial emergencies, her three partners-in-crime had to cancel their plans to go.  In a fit of derring-do, Lucy decided to go alone.  Oh sure, it would be expensive bearing the whole cost of the condo, but she had always wanted to go on a solo trip to the beach.  She had a credit card she reserved for emergencies.  Could opportunities to accomplish a bucket list item be considered an emergency? She convinced herself that it could.

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The Queen’s Forest Crone

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I no longer steal photos, but I can’t help myself with this one. I have tried and tied to find the original photographer but to no avail. I found it as a Facebook meme.

Once upon a time in the Queen’s Forest, a wise woman lived in a rather large cottage.  In the nearby village, the more ignorant of them called her a witch and wanted her banished.  Others sought her out for her wisdom and healing abilities.  And then there were the children who scared one another by whispering about her craggy face, wrinkled hands, and wild hair.

Her name was Anne which is a rather uninspiring name for a wise woman (or witch dependent on your point of view.)  The villagers called her “The Queen’s Forest Crone.”

Anne spent her days foraging, gardening, preparing potions, and cooking. She loved to cook.  The alchemy of breadmaking still enchanted her after all these years.  Occasionally, a villager would arrive in need of one thing or another. 

Over the years, she learned that mostly they needed a sympathetic ear.  Often, her potions were of no real use to the malady at hand.  In those cases, she gave them fresh baked bread and honey from the hive in the Twin Tree. 

The great tree grew a short distance from Anne’s cottage.  Like Anne, it was gnarled and sometimes ugly but possessed of a great spirit.  From the trunk of the old tree, a branch extended that formed another tree growing perpendicular in the air to the old one.  Not really a twin, the younger tree was still in it’s prime.  A woodsman had tried to cut it down, but her roots screamed in agony until the spirit of the old tree took hold to rescue her.

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The Spanish Notebook

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Three years ago today, I checked into the resort on Ibiza — Destino Pacha. I went to attend my son’s and now-daughter-in-law’s wedding.

Spain was a very good vacation. One of my best, but I’m not sure it was the best. That might have been Hawaii in 2017.

The Spanish Notebook

Spain, however, was my most unusual vacation. I went alone. To a foreign country with very little grasp of Spanish. I went to attend my son’s destination wedding. I also used the occasion to celebrate my 60th birthday.

I had never traveled alone for a vacation. There have been business trips and solo sojourns in hotel rooms, but never a whole vacation. I was giddy. I was excited. I was scared. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay for it all. Usually, I had someone to share costs with.

I was alone.

My mother could not attend my son’s wedding due to failing health. It’s a long trip and she was just not up to it. My ex-husband was in the process of being diagnosed with a debilitating disease and was physically incapable of making the trip.

For the Hawaii vacation in 2017, I thought I had pulled out all the stops. I took my mom to places we hadn’t seen since 1970 when we lived there. We had a full list of things to revisit and see again. I made a notebook itinerary with detailed plans, flight schedules, hotel reservations, daily agendas, etc. It was pretty OCD. It saved our butts a few times.

That notebook was so successful that there was no question I would have one for Spain.

The Spanish Notebook ended up being more than 100 pages and was spiral bound for me by a friend. I mapped out everything. I had only two weeks in Spain, and I was determined to do and see as much as possible. The wedding was only going to occupy me for about 2 days before the happy couple went about their honeymoon. (And who wants their mom/mother-in-law on their honeymoon with them?)

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