We are on our way up to Maine to close the camp down for the winter. We threw together a small bag of clothes, made a quick stop at the Coffee shop, and off we went. The sky is surprisingly dark for the hour, seeming much later than 7:15 on this cool Saturday night in October. It’s a beautiful clear night thanks to the brief Nor’Easter that blew in earlier this week. With winds strong enough to crack large branches off of age old trees, you might think that the beautiful fall foliage would be blown away. I am happy to report that is not the case and those stubborn little leaves are still holding on awaiting the official start of leaf peeping season. The outside temperature is 52 degrees here in Massachusetts. In Maine I expect the temperatures to be a bit lower probably in the low 40’s perfect snuggling weather.
The roads are moving along at a reasonable pace and I imagine we are probably going about 70mph. I say imagine because dear Tahoe’s speedometer is broken so it’s kind of a guessing game. We usually try to keep up with the crowd so as not to draw unwanted attention to ourselves from any of the alert Stateys on duty. Though I’m looking down at the screen as I type this, I can tell from the sound of the squeaky windshield wipers that it must have started to mist or rather, we have entered an area where it had been raining and the spray is shooting off the road. Yes, I can see, it’s just a sprinkle. Just enough to encourage reflections of white head lights and red brake lights to come together making up a colorful tapestry dancing between the reflective center lines that wordlessly tell us where we should drive. Other than these car lights, it remains very dark. There are no city streets lamps setting the area aglow, just the contrast between the blue-black sky and the bright lights traveling quietly along.
Mr. Wonderful has snapped open the lids to the coffees and the rich aroma of fresh brewed java comes wafting out, filling the cab of the truck with a sense of warm comfort. The oldie station is playing in the background and I can’t help but smirk when I hear the songs of yesterday referred to as “oldies” today. It’s comforting to hear these familiar tunes, remembering most some of the words. The lyrics and music transport us to a simpler time, a time when my hubby and I were just beginning our journey together and hadn’t even given thought to the possibility of having the type of life we share now, not to mention a second home.
“Brick House” comes on the radio and I can’t help but joke with Mr. Wonderful that I am indeed his brick house, all these years and extra pounds later. He shoots me a sideways glance that makes me know he appreciates how the weight has distributed itself on my being and once again making me feel beautiful. We are making excellent time and should be in Maine shortly. I looked up still thinking we were in Massachusetts only to find that we were already well into New Hampshire crossing the Bay Bridge…Didn’t realize just how well we were doing on time. Passing through our second toll booth, I look at the clock and realize that it’s only taken us a little more than an hour.
All summer we came up as often as possible. Many times we drove separately as my sweetness would be coming straight from his office in Boston and the girls would sometimes come up when they were done with work as well. I don’t mind being alone or driving by myself in my sweet little ride but there is something so reassuring when Hubby is behind the wheel and we are in his truck. Whether we talk and sing the entire ride, I close my eyes and snore loud enough to keep him awake or we simply sit quietly together, just feeling him next to me makes me feel safer and makes the ride so much shorter.
The mile marker alerts us that we have a only about a half hour left before arriving at our quaint little lake house in the woods. We’ll pull in the park -like driveway, unlock the door and flip on the water pump, sump pump and then the water heater. We packed lightly since this is an overnighter so we won’t have much to carry in. It’s funny but even though we’ll be here for less than 24 hours, the relaxation quotient kicks in right away and makes us feel as though we were away for much longer.
Mr. Wonderful will go out to turn on the gas for the heater and we’ll start it up to take the chill off. After quickly freshening up, we’ll head out to our favorite little bar named for some silly man named Will. There we will feed the pool tables fist full of quarters while my Handsome devil schools me in the art of billiards, remembering to let me win one every now and then making sure I don’t lose all interest in the game. And being the sport he is, he will let me pull him up onto the dance floor where we will dance to the homegrown band that’s playing, like we are much younger than our 40ish bodies will remind us we are tomorrow. We’ll partake in a few cold ones so as not to be rude, since our lovely waitress Courtney takes great pride in bringing us the best she has to offer. Wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings, now would we? Then at last, when the band has played their last song and the bartender has yelled out “Last Call”, we will go home. We will pull out the twin sleeper that is in the main room with the woodstove. Yes, it is small and yes, we do have 3 other beds, 2 of them being queen-sized. But there is something sweet about reliving some of our early memories when we didn’t necessarily have the space, the means, the stuff we have now. What we started with was just the two of us with not much more than the desire to go through this world together. Sleeping together on a small bed in a small room with a blazing fire in the stove helps remind us how special the simple things really are. And how very blessed we are to be where we’re at, to have what we have, to know now what we know and above all, to have each other to share it with.