Are we there yet?


*checks calendar*

The New River Birding and Nature Festival is just around the corner!

*rummages through pile of papers to find plane tickets*

*looks askance at very small suitcase*

*mentally juggles space requirements of clean clothes versus camera gear*

*wonders if farmhouse has a washing machine and linens and wireless*

*maid service, maybe?*

*briefly considers pre-writing blog posts but decides most everyone who reads this blog will be in W. Va. too*


Please tell me someone of us, someone responsible, HAS IT ALL UNDER CONTROL AND TAKEN CARE OF.


Cause me… my plans extend only about as far as getting myself there. I’m thinking of it as something like the first day of summer vacation. Remember how that felt? You’re ten or twelve maybe, and school’s out and the world is stretching itself out into one long basking day after another. Maybe your dad’s driving the family station wagon to the beach house with his one arm hanging out the window, drumming his fingers on the car door.

I see myself sitting in the backseat (as the youngest, I always got stuck in the back), sitting on one folded leg to get a little height so I can be the first one to see the ocean as we go over the bridge. We’re getting there, but I’m trying not to throw up from too much excitement and too much time in the backseat.

Only this time, the air won’t suddenly begin to smell like salt and it won’t be the ocean I’m aching to catch a glimpse of. Instead there’ll be mountains and it’ll be Mary or Susan or Lynne (or one of the dozen-or-so others) that I’ll be trying to spot first.

It’ll be the heart of the day and the sky will be huge and blue. There’ll be laughter. And birds singing, beckoning us into the woods. There’ll be plenty of time, time enough to squander on pure silliness and the joys of friendship.

That last part may be a mixture of fiction and dream and desire, but I’m anchoring myself there. It’s an idea I have inside me. The beach from my childhood that I keep walking on; the summer I keep longing for. That group of friends that belong only to summers past; the ones we built sandcastles and dreams and forts at the pool club with, the ones we watched pack up the family car and go back to real life until next summer.

15 thoughts on “Are we there yet?”

  1. Sounds like a fun time, Laura. As do your childhood memories. And that is a fine looking arch bridge running across the Appalachian mountaintops. Wish I could be there as I tire of overcrowded, nature devoid cities. Don’t forget your bungee lines. 😉

  2. Have a grand time.

    And what will I be doing that weekend. . .um, try cleaning a winter cover from the pool. Yuck–nothing worse than those dead leaves.

    I look forward to lots of tales and many many pics.

  3. Nope. Not all your readers will be going. I loved last year’s posts and I’m really looking forward to the pictures and stories this year.

    Oh…take the camera gear over clean clothes every time.

  4. I brought my HUGE suitcase up about a month ago and started tossing stuff in/on it. The pile is about three feet high and now I have to start thinning! I’m counting on Kathi to be the best prepared. I’m actually starting to get nervous.

  5. Laura, you always say the right things, and in sweet ways.
    I am always like, “Anyone ready to pee their pants yet?????”
    : )

    A whole week together. As you said, plenty of time. Cape May weekends are just too damn short.

    From Susan, who is still trying to find a way to get there WITHOUT going over that flippin’ bridge.

  6. Your excitement is contagious, Laura! I know y’all will have a wonderful time, and I join the others in my eagerness to see and hear the tales of your trip.

    Hope y’all have a blast!

  7. Oh, Laura, you are making me all emotional which I know is not hard to do. How sweet for you to regard us as good summer memories.

    I am panicking, too! I’m nervous and queasy and very excited. I hope I don’t get lost and I do hope there are laundry services. A maid? I doubt it. I wonder if we need to bring bed linens and towels.

    We will all need to exchange cell phone numbers soon.

    I talked about my trip prep last night on the blog.


  8. Wear one pair of jeans. Pack another. Wear a sweat shirt you can wear everyday. Take a few shirts (you can air out the ones you’re not wearing) to wear under it. Load up on underwear and socks to last a week. There, how hard was that? And your can always wash your clothes in the river.

    Take all the camera gear you can carry on.

    And take binoculars.

    And have fun!

  9. Washing machine? I don’t think so. But, I’m sure we can find a laundromat in Fayetteville. (It means crossing the bride, tho!) Linens? Yes. Wireless? Yes, I’m pretty sure. Maid service? Hah, ha, ha!

    Bring camera gear. Clothing optional.

    No wait, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.

    Just get here. Dave and Geoff have it all in hand. Once you arrive, you will be taken care of completely.


  10. I’m with Endment. Can’t wait for the stories and pics. Have a great time!

    Wayne, PA

Comments are closed.