Free love on the free love freeway

Well, there was my summer vacation. Rolled up into three little days of sitting on a quilt in the grass in front of Toni's house. We did other things of course, but what is more quintessentially Summer Vacation than that?

We also had conversations like this:

Toni: "We need to save the chit chat for after the sun's completely gone." This said yesterday evening, when we were outside reading & writing & fighting off mosquitoes.

"Not getting much work done," Toni says as we sit in Batdorf & Bronson* with our books in front of us, after being interrupted by a few dozen people that she knows who happen to stop in for coffee. "Work?" I ask, pointing to the book open in front of her.

"Hopefully I'll look pathetic and likeable," she said, in reference to walking with her crutches. And the lovely friend that I am, I say, "You are pathetic and likeable." And Toni says, "Thanks" with complete sincerity.

She also liked to say things like, "Maybe we could light these candles," which really meant, "how about you get up and get matches from the kitchen and light these candles, because I'm sitting here on the couch with an ice pack on my boot."

I guess I just wrote down funny Toni quotes. Pocket, feel free to chime in with some of the nutty things I said. I also got caught this morning in the kitchen making pancakes, book in one hand and spatula in the other. I think there's a picture.

So it was summer vacation, and it was perfect, and now I'm home, with one day of work tomorrow (thanks to the job that doesn't provide paid vacation) and then two more days off. Beach anyone?

When I was driving up there, I didn't really mind being alone, except for that whole issue of not being able to safely unscrew the lid on my water bottle, and worrying that every sip would lead to a fatal crash. But on the drive home, I was missing having someone to talk to. Someone to hand me tofu pate on a savory thin, or a chocolate covered pretzel, or with whom to discuss the vast mysteries of life. You know, those vast mysteries that come to you on the open freeway. That's really one of the perfect things about car trips - when conversations happen that don't happen when you're busy and distracted by other things. But then I saw a van full of bored adults in frumpy clothes and I thought, "better me and my music than to be in that van."

*I keep typing "Batdork" instead of "Batdorf."