Our nephew got his stitches this morning at the plastic surgeon’s office. He was in and out in an hour. His mom tells me he was a trooper. I really can’t get over what a strong and brave boy he has been. The adults seem to be suffering more – seem to be – as it’s hard to tell sometimes what little guys are thinking. Watching him play a game of laser tag with his Uncle today made me feel better, and him too I think.
We got a call today from Tom’s sister saying she was on her way to the hospital because her son, our nephew, was bitten – in the face – by a dog. We met everyone there, our nephew, his parents and their significant others. Our poor guy was in pain but so, so, so strong. It was a good sign when his first question was, “where’s the remote?”. He didn’t talk much, just mumbled his needs, which weren’t many. He was patient and cooperative and wanted to laugh at the goofy adults surrounding him but that hurt too much. He mostly just stayed glued to the cartoon network kindly shooing people away that got between him and the t.v.
The dog owner stopped by. A good person. He filled out the requested paper work. The dog’s shots were up to date. And before he left he asked in the most quietest of voices, “Can I apologize to him?” He was sincerely sorry and my nephew mumbled, “It’s okay.” And the owner said, “No, it’s not okay.” Ugh, I had to hide my tears. The man so sorry, and the boy so strong. Too much for my emotions to handle.
My nephew will see a plastic surgeon in the morning. They will open the office on a Sunday in the middle of a long weekend to get him all fixed up. For now he is resting comfortably at his dad’s house. I’m so sorry this happened to him. We love you guy.
Tom and I had the truest sense of a vacation, no agenda, no obligations. Just beach, pool, donuts, shopping and Dr. Oz with our morning coffee. Tom even tried a couple of new things like fried calamari, which he liked. And skimboarding, which didn’t like him. He has the torn up skin to prove it.
On our last day we found the outlet mall. Shopping on vacation is a very tricky thing since chances are you’ve packed your suitcase full just to get to your destination, much less have room for goodies to bring back home. But somehow I managed to get back with a Marc Jacobs trench coat, two sweaters and four camisoles from Banana Republic, six pair of socks from the Gap (3 stripped, 3 argyle), hairbands for the gym from Puma, a Kate Spade purse and matching wallet, a bracelet from a beach shop, a new water bottle, a souvenir for our nephew, a Christmas gift for someone, a birthday gift for someone else, and a new ball for our dog Chyna. Tom got something new too.. a laptop bag from the Hartmann outlet. They were practically giving their luggage away. And we got it all home as carry-ons…with only a couple of dirty looks from the flight attendants as we stuffed our (one too many) bloated bags into the overhead bins.
Not missing a beat we got back in time for happy hour on Friday, almost as if we had never left. And along with happy hour everything else will start to fall into place like cream of wheat cereal in place of peanut and butter jelly donuts, spin class instead of walks on the beach, Yoga on land rather than the pool, and on Tuesday, after being out of the office for ten days, it’s back to work…in a new outfit!
I woke up late this morning, about 8:30. I skipped my shower and opted for an old pair of frames instead of contacts. I threw on the shirt I wore yesterday and headed out the door. In the rear view mirror I noticed my hair was not tied back too nicely. I made a quick stop at the Walgreens around the corner and it was while I was in there I realized my shirt was on inside out. Nice. Normally, this would be a disaster of a Monday morning, but I wasn’t headed for the office, I was headed for the beach.
We arrived in town Sunday afternoon. A quick trip to the shore for dinner and a dip in the pool before hitting the hay. Today we were ready for our “Florida” routine. We start at our favorite place on earth, the Lighthouse where they serve coffee, donuts, bagels and breakfast sandwiches. Really, this description does not do them justice. When I say donuts, I mean little pastries from heaven that make you smile with every bite. Then we walk across the street for our morning beach walk. When the sun is too hot for my Irish blooded husband we go back home and spend the rest of the afternoon in the pool (half of which is shaded). Showers, an early dinner and one more trip to the beach for the sunset rounds out our days. Rinse and repeat for four more days.
Spin class, lunch at an Italian deli and then a matinee. Later tonight Quintessence for dinner then settle in for Indy Car under the lights. Kind of a perfect rainy day. But lets get back to the movie. I went to see Julie & Julia this afternoon sans my movie buddy because she heard it got bad reviews, and sans my husband because it falls under “not hot chick flick”. And I too almost didn’t go after it got bashed on Chelsea Lately. But with such vivid images of my mom at the dinning room table flipping through her well worn copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and Julia Child on PBS coming through our television set, there was no way I would miss it. Not to mention the Julie part of the story was a blogger so that seemed interesting.
I wasn’t sure if the story would completely hold my attention since I don’t cook or write, but something told me there was a story in here I would like. As much as I appreciated the characters persistence, patience and ultimate success with their respective careers that wasn’t the story I walked away with. Rather, what kept my attention and even made me cry through almost the whole movie was their amazingly supportive husbands. Both of them.
I was practically bawling when Julie and her husband set up her blog together, tears rolling down my cheek when Julia’s husband bought her a mortar for Valentine’s Day and touched when he wrote to his brother that he sat in the kitchen so he could spend time with his wife. And when Julia’s husband told her she was the butter to my bread, the breath to my life I nearly lost it. I cried because their husbands were sounding boards, they were supportive even when others weren’t, they were their best friends and biggest fans. I cried because I am lucky enough to have all of those things with Tom and for that I am so thankful…and apparently a bit of a crybaby.
Ever since the week I rode 83 miles I haven’t been cycling as much as I would like. Last night was the third time I went riding since then and set out for a 24 mile ride with a fellow cyclist. It was a ride we’ve done after work before, very scenic, some hills but not overly hilly, the perfect route to get back into the game. But this time it was different…it got dark. By the end of the ride the sun had almost completely set. And as pretty as a sunset looks over a golden field it was also sad sensing the end of the season. I know there are still plenty of riding days left, even if they are shorter ones.
My girlfriend Melissa wrote about our night out on Friday. She summed it up quite nicely and you can read about that here.
I guess that is what you can call my lack of posting. And it seems to be my norm as one year ago I wrote a similar post. And I have been doing similar things like going on my friends boat, seeing the ballet at SPAC and I will soon be visiting family. The other addition to my summer is one I have posted about frequently and that is cycling, having rode 83 miles this week, the most miles I have done in a week. We are also having our house sided and it looks great.
Here are some pics from my camera to keep you company until next time…
