Day one of being home: “Ahh, it’s so nice to be back…”
Me: “Oh, what a delicious dinner, I love pita bread!”
Dad: “As long as you don’t pita bed.”
Me: …”I miss being with civilized people.”
Really, though, everything did fall right back into place when I came home. Besides inordinate amounts of weeds in the gardens I tend, and Poncho clinging desperately to me for two days, it’s kind of like I was never gone.
Except every few hours or so I think, WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?!?!??
Sigh. I miss the peacefulness of the beach and being away. Oh, need me to do something? Well, too bad, I’m on vacation, can’t take care of it right now. It’s a procrastinator’s dream come true!
But at the same time I’m glad to be doing things. For example, last night I took my first ever dance-that-is-not-Irish-dance class. (It was, in fact, contemporary ballet.) I think I did surprisingly well, all things considered. Now I am sore in strange places. It was a lot of fun, though! I’m not used to arching my back and flinging my arms about (OK, maybe the flinging was just me) and dancing to music that actually has words. Also, despite my obvious newbie-ness, I didn’t feel completely lost because I knew how to watch what the teacher was doing and mentally break it down into which foot goes first and that sort of thing. Except sometimes I would watch and think: All right, we go down, then do that hoppy thing, and UP one two! And the teacher would say something completely different with official terinology. Irish dance has no official terminology. Half the time, the teacher goes, “No! It’s not dot-did-diddly-dum, it’s da-dum-dot-dadada! Try again.”
That’s usually the point where my head metaphorically explodes. Either that, or I experience the strange sensation of actually understanding such gibberish.
So anyway, I’m glad that Eliza had the idea of getting me into the contemporary class. Brill!
Oh, and something else that lingers with me from The Trip…
Eliza singing “Clang, clang, clang, went the trolley! Ding, ding, ding, went the bell! Zing, zing, zing, went my heartstrings!…” And I kept accidentally singing it the past few days, due to its catchiness. Later on, I heard:
Mom: “Clang, clang, clang, went the trolley! Ding, ding, ding– Oh, I don’t want to be singing this.”
Also, the first time Eliza sang that song, we were all in the car and Rachel jumped in with her own verses… “Blub, blup, blup, went my liver! My kidneys ran off down the street!…”
I think the sea air does something to people’s brains.
Perhaps I shall post a bit more about The Trip later. Maybe with pictures. Maybe….
Oh, here’s one picture, at least…
Unfortunately, here at home there are no stores with names so endlessly entertaining. ;) I am glad to be home. The long fall leads to a soft landing.