Ten Days

          Some perspective reminders before reading this post:  the writer lives in a county with only one town, one school, and no gas station.  The writer does have access to food but only if purchased before 6 p.m. at which time the one local cafe/store closes (and we are grateful to have it).  The writer lives in a teacher compound where most of her neighbors spend their summers in their second homes or are away traveling or visiting family during the summer months.  Wrapping up this prologue is the helpful background information that two miniature schnauzers sometimes provide the only source of contact at 607 Stadium Drive.  Obviously, it is a quiet life.

           The writer appreciates this simplicity.  Keys can be left in cars, and back doors are often unlocked.  Most all of the citizens in this small town have a little Gladys Kravitz in them, sort of a built-in watchdog group.  (If you don't get that allusion, you are way too young and should go catch some "Bewitched" reruns on cable channels.)  The writer walks to work, to football games, and next year to baseball games at the new stadium--add outdoor evening entertainment to our simple lives.  No sirens blasting, no traffic lights at which to grow impatient, and no traffic jams other than those after Friday night football games.

             So, why would the writer leave this idyllic setting for ten straight days?  (Why is she writing this blog in third person???) What could possibly draw her away from this home, this life, and those two devoted dogs?   The obvious answer would just be to acknowledge that everyone needs a vacation.  Everyone needs to get out of his or her routine and see America the Beautiful.  Take a trip.  Hit the road.  Pack a bag.  Throw caution to the wind.  Live a little.

              In years past, the writer has done just that.  From the Great Northwest  to the scenic coast on Cape Cod to some true Southern jaunts in Alabama, Georgia, and Mississippi.  Travels to the Rocky Mountains, to New York, the Midwest......this land is her land and she has rolled down the windows and has sung that song from Interstate 5 to the Blue Grass Parkway.

               Summer of 2011:  ten days in Coppell, Texas.

               This summer the writer spent two hundred and forty hours in a metroplex suburb.

               She even dared stay with her daughter and son-in-law that entire time.  All  fourteen thousand and four hundred minutes.

                The mutual decision--their invitation and the writer's acceptance--could be classified as risky behavior.  After eight hundred sixty-four thousand seconds, however, the writer and her hosts still love each other.  It could be they even like each other, which is sometimes harder to achieve.

                 In ten days, the writer experienced all of the following moments that reminded her she was not in Gail America anymore:

  1.  She was able to go to a market and have sliced bread options, jalapeno with cheddar being her favorite.

  2.  She was able to go to this same grocery store after 6 p.m.

  3.  She filled up with gas without having to drive 30 miles to do so.

  4.  She played 36 holes of golf, with her son-in-law and shot consistently below her age (on nine holes).

  5. She got a pedicure from a professional, not the coach's seven-year-old daughter who just wants to practice with nail polish.

  6.  She got to use her car's navigational system.
  7.  She still missed exits and got off on the wrong roads.

  8.  She rented all the Harry Potter movies at a local store and then got to go to the big theater to see the final episode.

  9.  She visited the city's library and rented a documentary film.

10.  She got to use a Sonic gift card given to her by a student five months ago.

11.  She read a major daily newspaper every day.

12.  She had a special chef as her son-in-law is the Grill King (not to be confused with George Foreman).

13.  She herself got inspired (from all of the Harry Potter movies) and magically appeared in the kitchen to make lasagna and homemade cupcakes for her daughter and son-in-law who were working during the day.  For clarification, she used a spatula instead of a wand.  For further clarification, she NEVER cooks/bakes in Gail America. 

14.  She attended a  church with a praise and worship band and was not struck dead for having done so.

15.  She went to a professional baseball game with friends who love baseball as much as she does. 

16.  She purchased greeting cards and mailed them at the same place.

17.  She slept without dogs on her legs or beside her back or under her pillow. 

18.  She actually stood and watched planes land and take off which was a sure sign to the locals that she was from the country.

19.  She visited old high school friends, college roommates, and  former students who live in the metroplex.

20.  She wore a fedora style hat and didn't worry about what people thought.

                      Ten days of city living was a real treat.  The only miscues at the house hotel were opening a sliding utility room door and getting it off its hinges, turning off a light switch that needed to remain on in order for the garage door opener to work (thus locking out her daughter and son-in-law while the writer was at the ballpark), and using too many paper towels.  Despite this, she thinks she may get invited back. 

                       Probably best not to call and ask for reservations just yet.