The sweet sound of silence

A couple of months ago, my friend Shannon and I made a pact that we would get together before Thanksgiving of this year. We are somewhat similar in our snail-like mannerisms, thus the needed pact. Last week she called me up to inform me that Thanksgiving was practically breathing down our necks and that the karmic universe would not remain intact if we failed to make good on our intentions. So we decided to meet for part of the weekend at her sister’s new mountain chalet near Winter Park, Colorado.
The chalet turned out to be a six bedroom affair with every imaginable luxury a person could ever want. The washer and dryer by themselves were so new and shiney that I could barely contain the urge to strip my clothes and wash them right there and then.
We had plans to maybe visit a nearby spa for a hot stone massage or perhaps a snowshoe outing into the many giant pine trees that surrounded the house. But instead we sat on the couches and and yakked for hours. Shannon is one of the few people who carries as much emotional weight as I do; she has often referred to the sherpas she requires to tote all of her baggage. It makes for comfortable conversation to know that I can comfortably drone on and on and she won’t dose off or wish she was elsewhere. On this trip we were both nursing broken hearts; she for her John and me for the Matt that I once knew. She left her John about 18 months ago. He is a lovely, sensitive fellow who unfortunately likes to drink way too much. We talked for hours about loving and losing and moving on to save ourselves.
There was no internet service, no television and no Cingular cell service at the house. While I wondered if I might perish without my laptop, it was actually completely liberating to be free of the weight of it. As for the cell phone, any call I received would likely have been stressful so it was a non-issue.
So now I am back. Loren and Cassidy began to scrap as soon as I picked them up from Matt’s home. Devon had not napped and so had a huge meltdown this afternoon. Cassidy and I got into showdown which resulted in her writing an essay on why she felt the need to argue with me over every single tid bit that exits my mouth. It is all as it should be but not everything it could be. My battery is recharged and will hopefully continue to be so for a few more days. At that point I will likely begin to dream about the snow covered pines where my cell phone never rings and my computer doesn’t work.

The view from the hot tub.

Good thing Shannon doesn’t know what a blog is, she might know I took this picture of her….