Escaping Heat

So it might not be a vacation in the traditional sense of the word but every year at this time I think back to the week I spent on my own at Orange Tree Resort (on a timeshare stay courtesy of my step-dad, Mike).  I had been wanting to take a vacation but between school and a low paying job, going out of town wasn't an option. Not to mention, to me this was a getaway without getting too far from home. I was still just a little too afraid to go anywhere alone.

So here I was, just across town but felt worlds away. It was still hot, Phoenix hot, but it didn't matter. I was on my own for a week. No one to tell me what to do or when to do it, I was my own boss for the week. I could eat when I wanted, sleep when I wanted, watch t.v. for as long as I wanted. Go out when and where I wished. So I did!

It was a lovely week and this resort was and still is, a lovely place to stay. My room had a kitchenette consisting of a mini-fridge, microwave, and a sink to prepare mini-meals. It had a comfortable bead, lovely living room furnishings with a large television to watch. Best of all though was the bathroom. At one end was a huge walk-in shower, the other end a massive soaking tub. In between a large two sink counter with vanity (and stool) in the center.  In the hot summer, I was able to indulge in lowering the AC in the room to freezing (was wonderful to be a little chilly in the middle of summer). Then warm up a bit in the hot Jacuzzi tub.

I didn't have very much money at the time but this week was a week of heaven. I soaked in the tub, watched t.v., "cooked" meals, danced and sang badly to music on my CD player and had a lovely time. I sometimes think back to that week and the enjoyment I had, perhaps one day, I'll go back to visit this place. Perhaps now not for the freedom of doing what I want when I want; I'm an adult, I do that now. Maybe more for that massive tub to soak in. I can just picture it now. A large soaking tub, lots of bath salts scenting the air. Hot steam filling the room. And me, sliding into the hot tub, feeling like I'm floating. Oh man...I think its time to plan a night there.

Dialect and the southern accent

I just finished reading a chapter in my school text on language, dialects, and accents and had to take a break to write in my blog for a bit. Last April I took a trip to Houston and found myself in an area of the country that I easily fall into the rhythm and accent. I was there for only four days and by the third day I had fallen right in with the locals. Friday of the week I was in Texas was my day off from the conference I had flown out to attend. I had decided that if I was going to be as close as I was to the Gulf of Mexico then damn it! I was going to see the Gulf. So Friday I headed south of Houston to Galveston ready to meander, have a yummy lunch, and explore the beach. Upon my arrival to Galveston I found myself unsure of what to do, where to go, or even of where to park. Everything was paid and much was call in to pay which I didn't get.

So I headed out, determined to find a visitor center. I will say, thank God for my GPS (whom I've named Martha), without her I'd have been lost constantly. as it was, even with guidance, I found I was often circling the freeway on and off ramps like a buzzard circling a dead snake. Eventually, I found the right road, the right on ramp, and be on the freeway heading in the right direction. With my trusty Martha perched on the dashboard acting as my happy tour guide I made my way to the visitor center.

I went inside and found a couple ladies working, they happily began conversation with me and we talked about the Galveston area, places to shop, sites to see, and yummy places to get lunch. At one point one of the ladies asked me where I was from. So I told her, Prescott, AZ. Both women got confused looks on their faces.

"Arizona?" One lady asked. "Really?"
"Did you move to Arizona?" The other asked.
"No, born and raised in Arizona." I paused, "I'm talking like you aren't I?"
"Honey" The first lady countered, "You have more of an accent than I do and I live here."

We laughed about it and I moved on to my adventures in Galveston. I guess if I ever move south I don't have to worry about fitting in like a local. I know I'll slide in without even trying. At least in the way I speak.

A goal, not quite met but still a cool night

Tonight I'm thinking back to my trip to Ireland and what specific night. Before I left for my trip I'd heard the Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights) would be dipping down a bit lower than normal and I might get a chance to see them while on my trip.  As this is an item on my bucket list, along with a trip to Ireland, imagine my excitement at the thought of knocking two off my list at once. What an amazing experience to imagine myself standing on a hill in Ireland, emerald green grass at my feet and glowing lights over my head. 

After we arrived in Ireland, I spotted a newspaper with a headlight focused on the Aurora Borealis and my excitement returned anew. By this point in our trip, mom and I had been traveling around the country for two weeks. We had been to many spectacular sites and experienced things I never expected but here it was a full color picture above black and white lettering on the front page. We were near Malin Head, Ireland, the most northern point of all of Ireland. It was the best chance we had to see the magic.

That night after dinner in Moville, mom and I headed up the Malin Head. There were no street lamps, few houses outside of the small town of Malin. The grass almost seemed to glow lending a runway strip feel opposite the dark asphalt. We made our way to Malin Head, anticipation filled the car, excitement, hope.  We laughed as we made our way and passed a food truck. The only place around with lights glaring, the smell of fish and chips filled the air as we drove past. We've talked about that lone food truck many times, not able to figure out exactly who he was hoping to sell to. Perhaps there was a bar nearby or an event we weren't aware of but it just seemed so odd to see a brightly lit food truck in the middle of nothing.

After what seemed an eternity of driving, we found the turnoff to Malin Head, a steep narrow road that led to the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. I slowly pulled the car up to the parking spaces and briefly wondered if we should even be there after dark. Would we get into trouble? My eagerness to see the lights quickly outweighed any concerns and they whisked away in the brisk wind that blew.

I climbed out of the car and was amazed at the brilliance of the number of stars above. The tower of Malin Head loomed above, dark shadow blocking the night sky. Off in the distance a lighthouse blinked, it's stream of light swirling in and out of view as I stared up at the sky. Something wasn't quite right though. It wasn't totally clear. I noticed first the lighthouse light became a stream of light that I could see clearly. One by one, stars began to blink out of the sky. Fog. Fog was rolling in. Three weeks of waiting and the fog was going to block it out. I stood at the top of this cliff, amazing views all around and fog rolling in. I was stuck in the middle of disappointment and awe at the experience I was having. I knew at that moment that I wouldn't see the Aurora Borealis that night or while in Ireland but the experience was almost magical still. I'll never forget the sight of the lighthouse light streaming through the fog. The brilliance of the green of the grass. The sight and smell of that lone food truck in the middle of nothing. It is a night for the books for me. Not seeing the Northern Lights was a disappointment to be sure, but there is some level of excitement deep within me, knowing that someday, somewhere I will get to see those lights. I can't wait to find out how.