I love going away. For a little while, you get to leave your routines behind, try new things, and become a slightly different version of yourself.
We spent the week at Walt Disney World celebrating our son’s 13th birthday. Between the heat, sweating, and endless walking, there was screaming on rides and plenty of family memories.
I won’t lie, we are wrecked. You know going into it that it’s not going to be a relaxing type of trip, but it will be fun.
Epcot is my favorite park, and I especially love wandering around France and pretending I’m on the streets of Paris. I was lucky enough to meet up with a good friend one evening in Epcot. We got the most delicious raspberry macaron with lime curd from Les Halles and ate it by the fountain as the sun was going down and the twinkly lights were coming on.
Between park visits, Ger and I stole a little time together. We found a quiet spot to share a drink and talk about the future. The kinds of places we’d love to live one day. The kind of life we’d like to build when we’re empty nesters. It’s funny how those conversations seem to find us when we step away from our everyday routines.
On our last day, James turned 13. He chose to celebrate by going to Magic Kingdom. After spending the morning doing most of the major rides, we went back to the hotel to rest and pack.
Since we were staying at Animal Kingdom Lodge, we were able to go back later that night when the park was quieter. Dodging the rain, we made our way to TRON, my son’s favorite ride. A must-do, especially on such a special day.
I got a Mickey pretzel while my son and husband got in line. The fireworks started, and I watched. I popped in my Loops to try to dampen the sound. Why do fireworks have to be so loud?
Around midnight, we made our way to the exit, knowing that tomorrow we would get to see Henry and Lucy again.
Thursday
Flight home, and we go straight to pick up the dogs. They are so happy to get out of the boarding facility that they don’t recognize that we are the ones helping them escape.
I always feel strange whenever I come back after being away. You realize that life just moves on without you. Somehow, you are the outsider.
The garden looks different. The town looks different. The neighbors discuss things that happened while you were away. Even the house seems so quiet.
It’s time to inhabit it again.
Friday
I barely have the energy to get a shower. I spend the day in sweats with wet hair.
Today is for the couch and the pups.
Saturday
Slightly more energy, but still in my sweats.
I watch All Aboard! Scotland’s Poshest Train with Alan Cumming. I learn about Arisaig, a small coastal village in the Highlands. Arisaig means “safe place” in Gaelic.
I go down the rabbit hole and decide that this is definitely a place I could live. I look up the local pubs, shops, and climate.
Everything suits me, except for maybe the midges. I’m sure there is a way around that.
A remote stone cottage. Walks along the sheltered bay. A cozy life by the fire.
Yes, this sounds about right.
Sunday
I venture into the garden for the first time since we've been home. Somehow, this is when it feels like I've really returned.
The squash vines are taking over everything, and I love it. Tendrils spiral around the arches and even the climbing hydrangea.
I pick three hidden cucumbers. Two are rather large, and one is small and wonderfully odd-shaped.
I top up the wildlife pond with fresh water, suspecting it’s had a rather dehydrating week.
By lunchtime, I make a start on dinner and begin preparing tonight’s cottage pie.
I open the windows as it starts to pour. I wonder why I even bothered watering the garden earlier.
Then again, I love it.
Until our next cup of tea,
Abby