A Perfect Day

In the early hours of the day I was woken up by the wind, whistling loud through the trees outside my window, blowing chills across my body.

A little later Frances came in the room, and I pretended to be asleep which usually doesn’t work but today it was enough to send her over to Dave’s side and he took her downstairs.

I woke up an hour later at 8 am to the sounds of Grace and Frances playing raucously downstairs. I decided to sneak in a meditation before going down to join them.

Dave got ready to go for a bike ride and the girls and I read a story in their bed. I made them a second round of oatmeal with maple syrup and took a shower while the girls played outside.

When I got out of the shower Dave was back and getting ready to take Frances with him to Newport to do the laundry. It was turning into a windy day so I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for a hike with Grace. The wind was making it too cold to swim, but would keep us cool walking up the hill. It took a little convincing but she agreed. “Not too long, Mama,” said Grace, knowing how I love a long hike.

“No, no.” I said. “Just a short one. Just up the road to the place we went last year, remember?”

“OK,” she said.

We hiked along the lake road and then turned up onto Cemetery Loop, for a bit and then took the Borland Road up through the woods. It was dark and the road was lined with ferns, just like the one hanging in our bathroom back home.

“Let’s pick bouquets!” Grace said, getting excited.

We continued up the dark path through the woods, picking wildflowers. We visited an old apple tree she remembered from the summer before and found more flowers in the tall grass around it. Close to the top of the hill Grace suggested turning back. “I’m tired of walking,” she said.

I convinced her to go a little further on to a meadow and she agreed. When we got up to the meadow she started running up the hill. “It’s just like Heidi!” she yelled through the wind back to me, referring to the book which we’d read a month ago. The whole meadow was covered in long grass and we hiked up to a little ridge. It was so windy on top we were yelling to be heard even though we were right next to each other. We sat down and then we laid down, the wind rushing fast over our bodies. We closed our eyes. “I feel like I’m flying!” Grace yelled.

“Me too!” We sat up and she put her head on my lap. The sun was going in and out behind clouds that were moving fast. We watched their shadows change the color of the grass, their dark shapes running across the meadow as fast as animals. “Isn’t this awesome?”

“Yeah! It’s so beautiful mom!”

We decided to continue on the road, with the idea that it would circle back around, instead of turning back the way we came.

“Is this way longer?”

“Shouldn’t be,” I said, knowing I was probably wrong. I had never tried to loop around but I knew it could be done. I just didn’t know exactly where we would end up.

We walked past a farm and then another one and I kept thinking, just around the next bend we will see the lake and this road will drop back down to the main road. It had to. But it didn’t. Soon we were up on another big hill and I couldn’t see the lake anywhere. Grace was so wrapped up in her flower collection she seemed not to notice that we were lost or that we had already walked much farther then I had promised. A truck rolled past. It was a pickup with a young farmer who didn’t smile. It occurred to me that I could ask the next truck that came by where this road led and maybe get a ride. We kept walking. I reasoned there must be a bigger road not too far.

When we came to the main road, we were almost two miles from the cabin and we had already hiked more than that. At least I knew where we were. Grace didn’t complain at all. She just kept picking flowers and showing them to me. We had a little faux competition going. My bouquet was all long stems and hers was all short. Hers looked a lot closer to a real bouquet, something a bride might carry, and mine was more of a tangle. Lots of leaves and green and broken stems. She was completely focused on trying to get mine to turn into something as pretty as hers.

When we walked in the door we couldn’t believe it had been 2 1/2 hours.

I made Grace some lunch and ate some leftovers and pretty soon Dave and Frances were back. Dave had picked up dinner makings but I still needed to get our fresh milk over in Craftsbury. Frances had just fallen asleep in the car so Grace and I hopped in and took her to the milk farm. We got our milk and stopped at the farm stand for vegetables. The drive home as all dirt back roads, so I let them each take a turn sitting on my lap and holding the steering wheel.

By the time we got home Dave had dinner ready. I made a quick trip to Phil’s store to pick up some beer and send an email. When I got back dinner was on the table and I was sitting down with my family, all of us stuffing hard shell tacos into our mouths. I swigged a cold beer just as Dave was finishing his plate, and he went into the kitchen. I could hear him putting dishes into the sink. “Hands off my dishes!” I yelled. Since Dave cooked it was my job to do them, and because he rarely cooks, I was looking forward to an evening of warm suds, thinking and being alone.

“Just trying to help,” was his lame excuse.

“You can help by getting the girls to bed.”

As soon as I finished the dishes I went out onto the dock. The sky was clear blue becoming almost cobalt where it meets the hills opposite the lake. The wind was still chopping up the water’s surface, so the best way to find the peace I was looking for was to lay down on my back. I stared up at the overhanging cedar branches and felt the dock underneath me being knocked about by the waves. The sound of them was filling my ears and I felt like I was swimming. I thought about what a great hike Grace and I had accomplished earlier. How nice it was to be cooked for. How happy I am to be here.