A week of revelry & relaxation.
It’s been an annual tradition for more than 25 years. I’m the relative newcomer, joining the group 9 years ago.
The men like to think we prance around wearing teddies and having pillow fights.
This is a week to leave make-up, jewelry and hair products at home if you so choose. Pack light and bring your comfiest clothes, a book, a puzzle and plenty of libations.
Pack Light – Who Me?
I have a special dispensation. I have a need to haul a tote full of platters & serving dishes, favorite knives, a pepper grinder, a table runner, three kinds of vinegar, tongs, coordinating paper goods, wooden serving utensils, etc, etc. I can’t help myself. The location is stunning but the kitchen is woefully outfitted.
For the life of me I struggle to get out of bed for work every morning. Drop me on The Cape, in this spot, and I’m up nearly every day at 5:30 ~ walking the beach and waiting for sunrise.
Long chats with the Good Lord abound…there’s something about hearing His voice more clearly by the sea.
I must admit there are times we act a little juvenile.
This year we chose toe rings from a full display bought at a yard sale for 25 cents.
And Lord knows it’s not the best of ideas for girls to draw Henna Tattoos on one another late into the night.
What fool brought this along?
Um – What were we thinking?
We may schedule in a little arts and crafts.
There was that year we each sacrificed a pair of our underwear. We cut them up round and round into long strips to crochet into coasters to present to our men when we got home.
Games and Puzzles show up in abundance.
We venture out just a little. Why would one want to leave this place?
We do a little treasure hunting…
We might go out for a meal once or twice.
Some are more driven than others. These two are in training for an upcoming race. And miles of bike trails are traversed.
We eat well. We drink well.
We laugh our butts off.
But I can’t sugar-coat the whole shebang. Each year tears join the mix…a family trauma, a death, financial despair, cancer, life and LIFE to hash over.
And misadventures of our week this summer included sharing the house with a family of mice, falling off bikes, getting the car stuck in a sand trap and calling in a plumber to name a few.
But I’ll take the good with the bad any time. Isn’t that how each day is?
Gratitude is the Word.
There’s a time for everything.
Until next year…