Last week I had a rare experience. I managed to get away from it all, without a member of my family for a whole week. Now, I’ve gone away before but it’s usually one of those church sponsored retreats for a weekend, or a visit to England to see my Mum, usually with a child in tow because it’s just easier for the one left behind to cope with one less child to keep tabs on.
I went away to New Mexico with my writing group. There are six of us and we get together every other month to critique each other’s writing. This keeps me on my toes even if I never submit anything, much to the dismay of my group wherein lie two published authors.
So….me and my group toddled off to New Mexico for a Yoga, Writing, and Meditation Retreat. One of the group has a cabin in the hills of Mora, and so she generously invited us to come and stay.
To be honest I was dreading the journey. The intrepid traveller amongst us persuaded us to take a road trip instead of flying, which was a good idea really as we would have had to rent a car and park it for the week in the Mora foothills. Keeping up a flurry of polite conversation for 11 hours with four other women in the car, did not sound very happy making to me, and I assertively voiced my opinion to my husband, whom I was getting ready to strand for a week. He gave me a look, encouraged me to “be the man” (siu) and go.
Joyfully it turned out to be only three of us, and why am I saying, “joyfully”???? because three was worse! It meant I had to initiate conversation more often without five yappy mouths contributing to the verbal cacophany.
The morning of departure dawned early and my fellow passenger had already bagged the back seat so I was awarded shot gun where the rule was,
“She who sits in front…” vehicle owner has three sisters and two daughters so the femenine pronoun is apropos, “…cannot fall asleep.” I asked my counterpart, through a series of yawns, if she would like to switch places, and she gaily said,
“I figured you’d need more leg room than me, enjoy , while I make my nest right here behind you!” ZZZZZZZZ
Within five minutes we had popped in the first book on CD. This put us all to sleep (including the driver) so we switched and listened and dozed our way through two more book selections that did not boost our energy. We came to our senses and agreed that it was the male voices, reminiscent of our husbands’ somnolent diction, that were the culprit so we switched to a female reader. At 11a.m. three hours into our eleven hour journey and four books discarded, we pulled up at a roadside cafe and bought hamburgers and fries, I threw an iced coffee into the mix and we all woke right up!
Now we did what women do best, and I dreaded, we talked. It wasn’t all that bad after re-fuelling with meat and caffeine and we trekked through rural plains and nothing much for a long, long, time. A stand of slowly revolving windmills on the horizon broke the monotony of cows and on viewing the stark, white, Quixotic adversaries I quipped,
“At least the farmer doesn’t have to milk them.”
This was met with uproarious laughter which just goes to show how road drunk we were.
In Amarillo I rolled down my window to hear the mournful bleeting of the cattle. I know, they low, but only under happy circumstances. These death-bound cows were bleeting. By rolling down my window I also filled the car with unsavoury odours which mingled and disguised the hamburger exchange from meat patty to gas.
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Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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