Oh, The Places I'll Go

Where do you go, or what do you do to hide from the world, to hide from your life? Do you turn off the phone, the computer, draw the curtains, ignore the doorbell, or leave town? Perhaps you send the kids to Nana’s, tell your husband to go play golf while you schedule a pedicure or go shopping?

I have several ploys. I hide in my garden – if it’s not too hot (and if there are not too many mosquitoes). Or, I might cook – if I have someone to clean up behind me. Retail therapy sometimes works, but really, I don’t need a thing. My favorite escape is a book, but, for reasons which I can trace back to my early childhood, I usually feel guilty when I hide away in a good read. Today the planets must be in alignment, because, as the Magic Eight Ball from my youth would indicate from its little triangle floating in that orb of black liquid, “all signs point to yes.” I’m at the lake cabin where there are no household chores to be performed and it is overcast and rainy. In other words – it is a perfect day to stay in my pajamas and hide out in a book. No guilt! There is absolutely nothing else I should/could be doing.

For the rest of today, and perhaps for the remainder of the holiday weekend (the weather forecast is calling for more of the same) I am on vacation from my life. I love the magic of books. Who will I be, where will I go? Alice McDermott’s bigamist’s daughter, or in Clifton, Arizona in 1904 witnessing the great orphan abduction or maybe in Carson McCullers’ south losing myself in her short stories? My destinations are endless as I sit on the couch, watching the rain bounce off of the deck, with books spread around me like alternate universes awaiting exploration.

I’m off, safe travels to me. I’ll be in touch when I return.