Wild-Eyed Woman Emerges from Forest with Empty Wine-Glass. Video at Eleven.

I stated in Six-Word Saturday that I had blocked out the entire day all for myself.  I had actually booked my selfishness in advance. You’d think that, given that level of foresight, things would have gone at least somewhat as planned.

What was I even thinking?

I know what I was thinking. The kids are with their dad this weekend.  A day of housework. Gardening.  A nice long workout.  A meal for two. 

No.  Simon had a conflict getting Nate to his soccer match, and I agreed to help out.  A long drive followed by a long wait for his coach and teammates.  It took about 40 minutes of waiting, texting, and waiting some more to find out that the match had been taken off the schedule.  Long drive home.

No sooner was I in the door, thinking, well, that was a waste, but only an hour and a half has disappeared from my idyll, the phone rang.  An old, old friend of Chuck’s was coming through town with his wife and kids. 

 

Have you ever done this? 

Said: “How wonderful to finally have the chance to meet you!  Yes, we’d love it!” 

Thought: “What will I feed them? We don’t have any beer.  Is the bathroom clean?  Will Chuck get home from coaching rugby before they arrive?  Would it be gauche to scrub out the fridge while we visit?”

And of course, we had fun!  They are friendly, gregarious people; the wife is an English as a Second Language teacher, like me; she and I lived in Central Europe at the same time; their kids are cute.  As far as surreptitiously sneaking in a lightweight chore while chatting?  Forget it: the two-year old found me to be an ally and then wanted me to himself for the rest of the visit.  If I got up from the floor, where we were playing Lego and trains, for even a moment, he would follow me.  “P’ay wif me!”  So I did.

When they left, it was four.  I put away the Lego and restored the trains to their shelves.  I had just put my hands on my hips, blew my bangs off my forehead and looked around when Chuck said that our friend Cliff and his kids might come for supper and to spend the night.  Would that be OK?

HAHAHAHAHAHA!

As it turned out, Cliff had other things to do and didn’t come.   I did cook a meal for two, which we ate out on the deck for the first time this spring.  We filled our glasses from our last bottle of wine and strolled through the forest, watching the dying light on the canyon walls.

 

No, I did not have a meltdown about the violent death of my plans.  I don't melt down much.  However, I found myself wanting to apologize to Chuck over and over.  For being selfish.  He was confused about how doing household chores could be construed as selfish.  My response is that the self-directedness of the day is the selfish part.  

Do you ever just crave a day with no demands but your own to meet?