Thursday, June 02, 2005
vacation
A well deserved and highly earned break from reality.
My brief week off from work between the end of the school year and the start of summer school is winding to a close.
Well, I say a week off from work, but in actuality it has only been a break from my paying job. It has not been a break from the necessary tasks of daily living: laundry, dishes, sweeping the floors. And father duty is a 24-7 job. It has been a week of calls for doctor's appointments and dealing with the mundane intricacies of Medicaid forms, of press 2 now and please call me back soon.
But not today. And not tomorrow.
The Wife has started the summer semester clinicals, she is currently in the pediatric ward of the local children's hospital. I anticipate many interesting stories and discussions about sick kids over the coming evenings.
The Boy is home with The Nurse. She tends to his daily needs. She is a home healthcare nurse. That is her job and the reason for my recent dealings with Medicaid.
So my dear reader, I am proud to announce that for today and tomorrow I am on vacation.
I am currently enjoying a large cup of organic bird-friendly Guatemalan at our neighborhood hangout and coffee house.
There is nary a cloud to be seen, real or metaphorical.
The itinerary for today and tomorrow:
Awake around 8:00, check on The Boy who lies sound asleep snuggling his Sleepy Time Frog, a gift from Uncle Suave on The Boy's first official night in our home. The Boy sleeps with it every night.
Following a brief check of the morning's news, and a good yet quick floor swiffering, a game of Madden.
The Nurse arrives around 10:00.
Off to the coffee ship with our shiny still relatively new iBook to finally experience the cool joy that is free public wi-fi access. We purchased it this past spring primarily as an essential tool for The Wife's studies. This is my first real opportunity to play with it. Awesomely cool.
Sometime around noon or so I will head back home, check on The Boy, then jump on my bike and head to the vast expanse of city park that sits virtually at our backdoor. Today solo, tomorrow with the fellowship of a good friend or two who I coerce and tempt into taking a day off. Some biking, some hiking, some just plain goofing around outside then a round or two of disc golf until the sun begins to bake.
Then off to the spring fed pool where the water is always a crisp 68 degrees and the grassy hillside is covered with the nubile bodies of coeds in bikinis ripe for the ogling. Sometimes they go topless. That is most always The Wife's first question when I return, "Did you see any breasts?" she asks with a laugh at her husband's juvenile nature.
Okay, I admit it, it's nothing The Wife is not already aware of, my friends and I, we like to look at girls. Who doesn't? What the fuck is wrong with you if you don't? Once upon a time we were dubbed the "Masters of Subtlety" by a small flock of short skirted women who noticed the intensity of our gaze as they walked by the patio of our now closed but still favorite and sorely missed beer joint. Masters of Subtlety indeed.
I will cleanse my body and my soul in the clear water and lie on the hillside finishing books half begun while soaking up the sun's life giving rays (properly suncreened of course, SPF 15, SPF 30 if the need arises).
As the afternoon begins to wind down it will be time to jump back on the bike and head back to the coffee shop hangout to slake my thirst with a cold one or two.
Then home for dinner and an evening with the family.
Life is good.
Let the fray begin. . .
|
My brief week off from work between the end of the school year and the start of summer school is winding to a close.
Well, I say a week off from work, but in actuality it has only been a break from my paying job. It has not been a break from the necessary tasks of daily living: laundry, dishes, sweeping the floors. And father duty is a 24-7 job. It has been a week of calls for doctor's appointments and dealing with the mundane intricacies of Medicaid forms, of press 2 now and please call me back soon.
But not today. And not tomorrow.
The Wife has started the summer semester clinicals, she is currently in the pediatric ward of the local children's hospital. I anticipate many interesting stories and discussions about sick kids over the coming evenings.
The Boy is home with The Nurse. She tends to his daily needs. She is a home healthcare nurse. That is her job and the reason for my recent dealings with Medicaid.
So my dear reader, I am proud to announce that for today and tomorrow I am on vacation.
I am currently enjoying a large cup of organic bird-friendly Guatemalan at our neighborhood hangout and coffee house.
There is nary a cloud to be seen, real or metaphorical.
The itinerary for today and tomorrow:
Awake around 8:00, check on The Boy who lies sound asleep snuggling his Sleepy Time Frog, a gift from Uncle Suave on The Boy's first official night in our home. The Boy sleeps with it every night.
Following a brief check of the morning's news, and a good yet quick floor swiffering, a game of Madden.
The Nurse arrives around 10:00.
Off to the coffee ship with our shiny still relatively new iBook to finally experience the cool joy that is free public wi-fi access. We purchased it this past spring primarily as an essential tool for The Wife's studies. This is my first real opportunity to play with it. Awesomely cool.
Sometime around noon or so I will head back home, check on The Boy, then jump on my bike and head to the vast expanse of city park that sits virtually at our backdoor. Today solo, tomorrow with the fellowship of a good friend or two who I coerce and tempt into taking a day off. Some biking, some hiking, some just plain goofing around outside then a round or two of disc golf until the sun begins to bake.
Then off to the spring fed pool where the water is always a crisp 68 degrees and the grassy hillside is covered with the nubile bodies of coeds in bikinis ripe for the ogling. Sometimes they go topless. That is most always The Wife's first question when I return, "Did you see any breasts?" she asks with a laugh at her husband's juvenile nature.
Okay, I admit it, it's nothing The Wife is not already aware of, my friends and I, we like to look at girls. Who doesn't? What the fuck is wrong with you if you don't? Once upon a time we were dubbed the "Masters of Subtlety" by a small flock of short skirted women who noticed the intensity of our gaze as they walked by the patio of our now closed but still favorite and sorely missed beer joint. Masters of Subtlety indeed.
I will cleanse my body and my soul in the clear water and lie on the hillside finishing books half begun while soaking up the sun's life giving rays (properly suncreened of course, SPF 15, SPF 30 if the need arises).
As the afternoon begins to wind down it will be time to jump back on the bike and head back to the coffee shop hangout to slake my thirst with a cold one or two.
Then home for dinner and an evening with the family.
Life is good.
Let the fray begin. . .
|
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