Wednesday, February 9, 2011

So, When Does The Relaxtion Part Start?

Our most recent weekend jaunt was to that mecca of Massachusetts, the town named after either some family by the name of Belcher, or in reference to the effect a local eatery had on its townspeople.  I haven't Googled that one, yet, so I'm left with that mystery.  We went to "get-away" for a couple of days and relax.

Just a bit off the beaten track, Belchertown is home to my brother and his wife, and a whole bunch of other people whom we don't know.

About three hours from our home, it's a scenic ride up the New York State Thruway where you can spot all sorts of nature and interesting items, before you turn "Down East" and head for the Massachusetts Turnpike.

To be honest, while the Thruway provides a straight shot towards our destination, most of the nature is lying on the side of the road and the "interesting scenic items" viewed are those things that people hide in their backyards.  Constant comment from my wife, "I wouldn't want to live with the Thruway in my backyard."  I remind her that we don't have it there and most of these people didn't choose it either, it was sort of put there after they moved in. 
This trip, my wife wanted the passenger seat so she could relax a bit, too, and look at all of the flora and fauna that dot the landscape and I was fine with that.

Lately, as she drives around and spots an eagle at 5,000 feet or a hawk swooping down on scattering prey in the field, her hand on the wheel moves in the direction of her glance and we end up either in the median or find ourselves drifting off the shoulder.

Not that it makes me too nervous...I just know we'll get more life out of the tires if we can avoid the concrete barriers we scrape along as she squints skyward.  If the shaking of the car from the concrete bumps doesn't get her attention, I gently remind her, "ROAD!!!"

Having her as an "upfront-backseat-driver" has its perils, too.  On the way up, later in the afternoon, she was taking in the sunset and would instruct me to, "Look at that sunset!"  I couldn't as I was driving and noted, "The sunset is behind us."  "You have to look at it," she responds.  As I strain to look like I'm turning my head, I coo, "Oh, beautiful." It's bad enough that I can't turn my head on a dime, like an owl, but doing so at 65 miles per hour has its downside.  I silently apologize to the guy behind me who's wondering if he should call 911 and report someone swerving in the lane in front of him.

"You didn't look," she shoots back.  "No, but I am alive and I thought you wanted to relax?"

"LOOK," she screamed, forcing me to slam on the brakes!  "A Blue Jay," she exclaimed!

I've told her a hundred times that shouting and using one word directions usually indicates trouble..."Look!...Stop!...Help!," you know, emergencies.  And guess what, I've seen Blue Jays before...we have a family of them that clean out our bird feeder daily!  Blood pressure rising.

So, then she reverted to the pointing.  That's the part where I'm driving along calmly and then, all of a sudden, her arm swings in front of my face, blocking my view, "A crow...see it?"

Having seen thousands of crows over my lifetime I'm safe in saying, "Yes," to get her to retract her appendage, as I was now trying to find the road.  Should she question me, I'm confident I could give a good description of a crow.

Anywho, we end up in Belchertown and she's amazed.  "Look at that," she says!  "What," says I?  "Snow, so much snow."  Yeah, I missed seeing that.  It's only EVERYWHERE.  I left it snow blowing, no shoveling, no wet boots and gloves for the weekend.

My brother's place is out in the country.  They have birds and animals there, too.   Now that I'm out of the car and relaxing in a chair in the living room, one would think that we could avoid the happenings out of doors.  Nope.  My wife is looking out the window, cooing and awing, seemingly filled with amazement and wonder.

"Come here," she says gently (with the full meaning of a military commander), "Look at this."

I climb out of the overstuffed chair, where I was RELAXING.  "What," I ask as I approach the window, expecting to see a flamingo or some exotic fur covered vermin.  "Squirrels, playing with each other," she says eyes almost misty. 

I look at her like she's on some sort of medication.  "Those squirrels," I ask, "The ones that look like the three thousand that we have in our back yard?"  I ask my brother if he has any Pepto-Bismol.

"Don't sit down," her next instructions.  "Look at that over!"

"The chickadees," I query?  "They look familiar...probably left the flock of two hundred that were perched on our deck this morning and hitched a ride on our car!"

She responds with, "You just don't get it, you don't enjoy nature."

"I do enjoy nature, but show me a lion or a giraffe or something new.  I just don't get excited about seeing birds and animals that we see in our backyard every day all day long!"  I head back to the chair to continue my resting project.

 Then, my brother on whom I was counting for support steps up, "Didn't you see the giraffe down the road when you drove onto our road?"


My wife is agog!  "Oh, yes, let's do that!"

"That will be relaxing," I note.  I get "that look" and remember that everyone has their own definition of relaxation and this past weekend it was not to be compared to mine.


  1. hahahahaha!
    Now, aren't you gladyou married me?? I make your blog so much more interesting!!

  2. TJ...thanks for the reminder...I have to go find Bartholomew and interview him...he'll have the answers about why I am the way I am!