re-entry

There is something to be said for a vacation that renews your senses and erases all your daily anxieties. Every year at this time, we throw suitcases in the car and race like bats out of Hell to make the trek to "our" beach house down south. We don't really own it, though I wish we did. For one glorious week every summer we pay the steep rent to live on the beach and escape reality. If you've been paying attention to past posts you will notice I've written a few times on this subject. In fact, four years ago yesterday, this little writing adventure of mine was launched. It is never easy leaving the sun, sand, and surf. This year was no exception. The car was packed to near bursting as we stuffed luggage, toys, towels, my son, my friend, her dog, and my husband and I into our vehicle. Leaving just a little porthole out the back window we pushed off at 9:00 p.m. and drove overnight to reach our serenity. The week was filled with the usual sun bathing, wave riding, vodka lemonades, piles and piles of fresh shrimp, and most important good friends. As a new widow, my friend used the time to heal, read, and get a good tan. We talked, we cried, we ate and drank. The next day we would do it all over again. Nightly trips to the grocery and shrimp shop were the only interaction with other humans with the exception of a marsh exploring 4 hour paddle board trip. Actually, there wasn't much human interaction there either, just the three of us, the water and a few sting rays. What lurked under the surface was best not thought of, let's just say it was motivation to not fall. As we departed in the pouring rain on Saturday, I took one last look at my beach and the usual sappy tears fell from my baby blues. If only... Well, we are back and so is reality. No human interaction for a week makes one all freaky feeling when faced with daily human activity. Coming home to the problems with my trashy neighbors had my anxiety right back staring me in the face. The wafting smell of eau de dog shit has me unable to sit on my front porch. Yesterday I found the idiots walking around MY backyard searching for their errant feline. I'm sorry, but you are trespassing on my fenced- in property and I'm sure your parole officer wouldn't like to hear that. Home is a place of respite. It's where our heart is and all those cliches. I am tired of feeling nervous when I return to my respite. Here's where I insert the big sigh. Like I said, leaving the beach is hard, but so is re-entry, a term my mother-in-law coined to describe that helpless wandering just back from the best vacation ever feeling. Re-entry is the reason I started this blog and am still writing to you lovelies. On a more positive note, yes the neighbors are awful. Is it forever? I highly doubt it. Bad neighbors are like gypsies and soon enough they will find another sucker landlord and destroy that rental and so on and so on. All the appropriate authorities have been notified so I am no longer alone in my quest to move them on out. It is also still summer which means more pool/lake-filled days until school starts. Birthdays, kindergarten(finally!) and a new career for my favorite man take us right into autumn. It has been a long hard road to get to this point and now that we are here, life is too good to let it be spoiled by a situation that is temporary. I will view it as balance and then run for my paddle board or my computer where I can release all my worries. A new phase of our life is about to begin and I am excited for the next ride because life is always an adventure and there is always the beach to go home to. Good evening world.