Saturday, August 23, 2014

Vacations Are for... Relaxing?

Everyone needs to get away now and again for a change of scenery, and experience new things.  A lot of the fun, for me at least, is in the planning and anticipation of a family vacation.  For many years, when our grandchildren were in elementary school, we went to Nags Head every September for a whole week when rental rates for beach front houses were less than half price.  But now with teens that can’t take a week’s leave from high school, we’ve had to come up with other options.

This year some of our family managed a vacation to Arizona.  Our son Doug found a beautiful house for us to rent in Sedona; our daughter Deb is a great planner, and together with Doug’s help, put together an itinerary which included places to eat, day trips to the Grand Canyon, Jerome, Sunset Crater, and other sites and activities of interest.

I spent the entire week of July 7-11 shopping for summer-weight pants and shirts for Dave, doing all our laundry, ironing and packing suitcases.  We were up early Saturday morning, July 12, and our plane left Dulles International Airport around noon.



Flying is not my favorite thing, although I’ve done it a few times.  I’m not afraid, mind you; it’s just the tension of making sure you pack everything you need, hurrying with luggage from place to place, hurrying to get baggage checked, hurrying to get to the terminal, etc, that kind of takes some of the fun out of flying.  Vacations are supposed to be relaxing, right?  You know – getting away from the rat race, renewing body and soul…

Then there is the plane ride itself.  Sitting on the tarmac for an hour and a half is not exactly my idea of soaring to new heights.  My chiropractor gave me instructions to get up and stretch my back every hour of the flight. (That didn’t happen.)  Breathing re-circulated air isn’t my cup of tea either.  Then there is the disconcerting fact that I don’t want to drink much water or anything, (although I should) while traveling, either by car or plane, to avoid frequent bathroom breaks.  Stuck in my seat, I took small sips from my water bottle.  When the stewardess served snacks, I sipped my small cup of apple juice and nibbled the airline’s little bag of tasty oven baked Veggie Wheat Thins, and watched the “occupied” light overhead go on and off as passengers went to and from the bathroom.  I debated: do I go now or wait?  I didn’t want to risk getting a bladder infection, so I finally decided to make my move.

We sat front of center on the plane, but the front privy was occupied, so I opted for the one at the rear of the plane.  Dave had a window seat, Doug had the isle seat, and I sat in the middle.  Doug stood up to let me out, and I staggered my way back the isle past passengers whose heads and arms hung out in the isle as they slept on pillows.  I had to apologize frequently for disturbing them before I finally reached my destination. 

Just as I reached for the door handle of the privy, the plane hit an air pocket that rocked us pretty hard.  The seat belt signs came on, and the pilot warned passengers to stay buckled in their seats.  Perfect.  There I stood, a disobedient passenger with a pressing problem.  I opened the door to peer at the tiny receptacle, and was thankful I didn’t weigh a pound more than I already did.  I made my way inside, shut the door, and slid the lock into place.  (Or so I thought.)  I had barely sat down to enjoy my relief when the door flew open.  A male flight attendant was just outside the door, and I quickly lunged forward, grabbed the handle and pulled the door shut and slid the lock closed again as the plane rocked back and forth.  I was afraid to let go of the handle, lest the door fly open in spite of the bolt being in the “locked” position; so I held it shut with one hand.  With the other, I searched for the toilet paper.  When I found it, I used my elbow to stop the roll from spinning out of control as I severed a desired length of jagged paper and managed operations with one hand.  I prayed that the door would stay shut when I stood up to re-clothe myself.  I don’t think I ever pulled up a pair of pants so fast in all my life.  The tiny toilet had a dramatic flush; it almost sucked my breath down with it.  After I washed my hands at the teeny sink, I steadied myself against the turbulent plane’s motion for about twenty seconds before venturing to open the door.  The male flight attendant didn’t speak or look at me as I made my exit and lurched back to my seat.  Thank God I wasn’t in the front bathroom when the door flew open!

Did I mention vacations are supposed to be relaxing?

On Thursday morning of our vacation week, I woke up at 3:00 a.m. with wheezing on my chest.  Dave went to the Safeway after breakfast and bought Vicks Vapo-Rub, cough drops, and DM cough syrup for me.  I praise God that I felt fairly decent the rest of the time there and until we arrived home at 1:30 a.m. Sunday morning from the plane flight home.  Once home, my chest got so bad I called the doctor Monday morning, July 21, and was able to get an appointment late that day.  Diagnosed with bronchitis, I was given an inhalant treatment in his office, and three prescriptions.  My doctor said I likely contracted the virus on the plane out to Arizona.  That bronchitis (and sinusitis) kicked me hard for four weeks.  Soon after we were home, I also discovered that two tubes of prescription creams I was very careful to pack when we left Arizona were missing. I asked my doc to issue a new prescription for one of them.  The cost? A mere $118.00.  Dave said he thinks the TSA confiscated it.  Some plane ride, huh? 

We did have a good time in our rental house, and our view from the patio was stunning!


We had fun eating out together.  Rattlesnake, anyone?  They can have it...


Alissa and Nicole enjoyed several free end-of meal rounds of cotton candy (so did some of the adults!)


The young set went hiking early every morning, and sometimes Alissa and Nicole joined them. 






The Grand Canyon was quite an experience!

Montezuma's Castle was not a castle as we picture one.  But people lived in these high, dark places.

We took a group photo on our back patio by the pool and hot tub the last evening of our week before we had to fly home the next day.  At this spot, swimming and "cannon-balling" was great fun for the family at night, and some enjoyed the in-ground hot tub as well. The pool was lit, and stars twinkled overhead as warm breezes gently brushed our faces. Keith Yoder, our son-in-law, set his high-quality camera on a small tripod on the stone wall, set the timer, and dashed back in place to be included in the vacationer’s photo.


Credit goes to Keith Yoder for all the photos on this blog post.  Thank you, Keith!

I hope you had a great vacation this summer.  God bless you, dear reader!


Copyright © 2014 Elaine Beachy