Originally, this past weekend was meant for a girls' trip down to Dallas to see Penick, my long-time best friend. I try to do this every couple years to see her world, haunts and friends. It's good for my soul and for hers to have old friends that know even the smallest or quirkiest thing about you around. However, Ike entered the Gulf and became massive. Dallas was off.
Instead, inspiration and circumstance produced a different kind of girls' trip that also was good for the soul but in a very different kind of way. Like any proper girl-y road trip, we began with the singing of Indigo Girls classics. You'd think that three might be hard for harmony, but not for us.
We made it to Eureka Springs. Mud Street Cafe, here we come. There were moments of anger and tears. We sat so long over one topic our coffee often required warm-ups. Our iPods stayed tucked. Our journals weren't opened. Our ears were ready for this trip.
You only hope wisdom that is not coming from you comes out of you. You listen and find yourself intent on the words coming from across the table and at the same time, examine your own life, your own open doors and end up having to discipline your own mind and thoughts becoming weary and even fearful, but unwilling to budge.
After about three hours, we found the courage to leave the table and make our way back to the car to drop off unnecessary items (all technological) for the walk up the stone steps. Popping into Bath Junkie heading for the oils, I smell Rain. It's been "my" scent for, like, 13 years. Smells can take me to a place like a photograph for some. It reminded me of someone I believe that I used to be.
Mindless shopping continued and it was good. Really good. We all needed it. We all also got to the point of "weary shoppers," in need of a drink so we came back down the sloping street busy with tourists seemingly unlike us and settled into a spot where hearts came back up to the surface with ease. Another hour passes. Our chemistry, the three of us, is perfect for this kind of trip. One broken but willing to laugh, one funny and optimistic and one with both distracting discernment and humor.
Fresh taffy, fudge, toffee, candy apples and chocolate-covered apricots are bought for the second part of our day. This is the part of the day that requires pajamas. But, before we head back home, Ermilio's for dinner it is. Wine or not, topics change. It has now become a dance. What do we share? What do we keep? What should she keep?
Amber brought the precious VHS that she'd been holding on to for months to show me of her thirteenth birthday party at LRRC. Her mom had just had surgery and couldn't make it so parents were there to help pick up the slack where needed. It is a truly priceless video and time of life both for her and for me. My Dad was behind the camera, as usual, interviewing the birthday girl, the others kids around, catching many cotton candy moments. My mom was there. Carson Prince. Jordan, her little brother who was shot through the heart with a pellet gun and had brain damage so bad he now functions as a quadriplegic. He never grew up from that way in our minds.
Back at Jenny's, PJ's are on. Besides the dancing coach skit, SNL was a let down. We'd had hopes that Michael Phelps could be funny, but we all agreed it best he keep to the banana hammock and the pool.
One can never prepare for the time, circumstances or attendees of this kind of Saturday trip to Eureka. I guess you just always hope it will be there in place, need be. Directionally, we came home a different route than the way we went, but, we made it home. I even think it is okay to use that as a metaphor for this trip.
Instead, inspiration and circumstance produced a different kind of girls' trip that also was good for the soul but in a very different kind of way. Like any proper girl-y road trip, we began with the singing of Indigo Girls classics. You'd think that three might be hard for harmony, but not for us.
We made it to Eureka Springs. Mud Street Cafe, here we come. There were moments of anger and tears. We sat so long over one topic our coffee often required warm-ups. Our iPods stayed tucked. Our journals weren't opened. Our ears were ready for this trip.
You only hope wisdom that is not coming from you comes out of you. You listen and find yourself intent on the words coming from across the table and at the same time, examine your own life, your own open doors and end up having to discipline your own mind and thoughts becoming weary and even fearful, but unwilling to budge.
After about three hours, we found the courage to leave the table and make our way back to the car to drop off unnecessary items (all technological) for the walk up the stone steps. Popping into Bath Junkie heading for the oils, I smell Rain. It's been "my" scent for, like, 13 years. Smells can take me to a place like a photograph for some. It reminded me of someone I believe that I used to be.
Mindless shopping continued and it was good. Really good. We all needed it. We all also got to the point of "weary shoppers," in need of a drink so we came back down the sloping street busy with tourists seemingly unlike us and settled into a spot where hearts came back up to the surface with ease. Another hour passes. Our chemistry, the three of us, is perfect for this kind of trip. One broken but willing to laugh, one funny and optimistic and one with both distracting discernment and humor.
Fresh taffy, fudge, toffee, candy apples and chocolate-covered apricots are bought for the second part of our day. This is the part of the day that requires pajamas. But, before we head back home, Ermilio's for dinner it is. Wine or not, topics change. It has now become a dance. What do we share? What do we keep? What should she keep?
Amber brought the precious VHS that she'd been holding on to for months to show me of her thirteenth birthday party at LRRC. Her mom had just had surgery and couldn't make it so parents were there to help pick up the slack where needed. It is a truly priceless video and time of life both for her and for me. My Dad was behind the camera, as usual, interviewing the birthday girl, the others kids around, catching many cotton candy moments. My mom was there. Carson Prince. Jordan, her little brother who was shot through the heart with a pellet gun and had brain damage so bad he now functions as a quadriplegic. He never grew up from that way in our minds.
Back at Jenny's, PJ's are on. Besides the dancing coach skit, SNL was a let down. We'd had hopes that Michael Phelps could be funny, but we all agreed it best he keep to the banana hammock and the pool.
One can never prepare for the time, circumstances or attendees of this kind of Saturday trip to Eureka. I guess you just always hope it will be there in place, need be. Directionally, we came home a different route than the way we went, but, we made it home. I even think it is okay to use that as a metaphor for this trip.
2 comments:
OK i am so glad that God purposed something beautiful out of the failed trip to Dallas. Just sad I was not there with you. sounds like a much needed outing with the girls...love you.
Milton - you have such a way with words! XO
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