Downtime

Quiet few days in the midst of so much travel. We drive to Massachusetts on Thursday and drove back on Sunday, but the Deerfield show was lovely. I didn't see much I couldn't live with out, but I saw loads of beautiful things I'd like to live with. I don't know the first thing about art. My only art appreciation class was in eighth grade, and what I remember most is a cute student assistant, a charcoal portrait of myself from childhood, and the orderly joy of a drafting table. Still, I love paintings. I could cover every inch of wall space with art and still fill racks in storage. This would lead to conflicts as I also need flat wall space for bookshelves, so it's probably a blessing that my finances limit me.

We stayed at Purple Gables in Amherst, which was cozy and peaceful. I had my same regrets - that we stay in lovely places that we really just get to sleep in. Saturday, we left around 9:00 a.m. and returned around 10:30 p.m.... And we got to see friends, and had popovers at Judie's. What more could you want from a whirlwind trip?

And I love traveling with my husband. I love that he talks and that he's quiet, I love that he can stop for all sorts of entertainment or ride for 13 hours to make it all the way home in one day. I love that he will drive 15 miles out of the way for local pizza of unknown quality or just grab a muffin at Starbucks and keep moving. His innate ability to be whatever the situation requires makes going places with him a joy. And I love driving. Driving has always been my healthiest form of avoidance. You feel like you're moving forward, leaving worries behind you. I always have a feeling of self-reliance when we travel; just the two of us with maps and no plans, free to wander and stop and look and talk and be silent. Of course, Andrew still laughs at me when I tie my head to the seat so I can sleep, but otherwise, we're quite companionable travelers.

Tonight, we have a charity auction, tomorrow an antiques show, and then in two weeks we're off to Delaware for a few days. We return home to a downhill slide to auctions and holidays and shopping, but right now, I'm sitting contentedly in the eye of the hurricane, which is a feat in itself. Normally, I can only dread what I know is coming, but I've achieved a Zen-like level of Now, drinking tea, finishing novels and indulging cats. For just a few seconds, the wisdom of the ages makes sense, and I can believe that there really isn't anything else - nothing exists but right now, and it's already gone.