An outing

I finished my edit and am now waiting for the arrival of a copy-edit to land on my doorstep.  Not anxiously awaiting, mind you.  I am enjoying the free time.

Don is missing all the cozy summer ambling around as he has a writing deadline looming, but luckily, Will is spending the summer at home and we have been doing all those lazy summer things that one imagines doing.  Exploring, hikes, cotton candy, bumping around town.

Tonight, David arrives for a sleepover, and one of Will’s friends might come over as well, and then tomorrow, Auntie Becky (the kid’s aunt, my sister) is coming and I am going to make a huge breakfast.  I’m thinking I’ll make delicious sticky cinnamon buns, because those are Dave’s favorites, and a batch of sausage and bacon (I bet you’re glad you aren’t here, huh Morton?  We know how you feel about pork!)  And I’ll make a big batch of scrambled eggs with several kinds of cheeses and maybe a little tomato and basil. 

It’s going to be fun.  Our little house will be stuffed full to over-flowing.  It will be nice.  Like the old days.  Big weekend breakfasts, lots of bodies tumbling into the kitchen, groggy faces and sleep-hair, sniffing hungrily at the air. 

I’ll sic Don on the cappuccino/espresso machine and maybe I’ll make some homemade hot chocolate as well.  Maybe I’ll even splurge and make a dollop of fresh whipped cream to go on the top.  Why not, we are already going to be way over our caloric intake.  Might as well make a day of it.

THEN, after we have eaten more than we should, we are going to pile into the car and drive up to some caves where we are going to go spelunking! 

I’ve never gone spelunking before.

We get to wear helmets with light strapped on to our heads.  It’s going to be dark and cold.  The cold will be a nice break from all this summer heat. 

We are going to be an adventurous cave explorers.  And if we really like it, we can sign up for the one where you are stuck in the cave for 5 hours instead of three and have to squeeze through impossibly tight cracks and rappel down rocks, and wade through underground creeks.  HA!  I just don’t see THAT happening.  I am almost 50 after all!  No rappelling for me.

Unless of course I love it, and lose all sense of reason.  Either that, or my boys really want to go and they really want me to go too, and then…well, I’d probably give it a go. 

So much for saying, no, to peer pressure.  Although, one’s children don’t really count as ones peers do they?  Aren’t peers suppose to be in the same age range?  I don’t know.  But if it was really important to them that I go, and experience rock rappelling, who knows? 

Luckily, for me, I doubt that Will would be chomping at the bit to rappel down rocks in pitch black darkness, with only a feeble light attached to the head.  I raised him way too practical for those types of shenanigans.

David however?  Well, seeing as how he is mountain biking as I type, I could see him doing the Extreme cave exploring thing, but he would probably prefer to do it with one of his extreme sports buds.  Which I, thankfully, am not.

Anyway.  That’s what we are going to do tomorrow, and then on Friday, I am off for a hiking week with my friend, Ilene, to celebrate a big birthday.

And yes, to those of you who are curious.  I am preparing just the way I do whenever I go on one of these healthy adventures.  I laze about, because I can, and I eat everything I can fit into my mouth.  It’s funny how much better things taste when one knows they will be forbidden. 

I wish Emily could come for the cave spelunking, but she has her project.  Actually, I bet she’s glad she has a real good excuse, but who knows, she might like it.  We had fun when we explored Carlsbad Caverns when we were on our road trips to and from LA when she was little.  And this is even more exciting because there are no lights and paths and things like that. 

I wonder if it’s going to be scary.  Spooky.  Bats and things fluttering about.  Eeee!  I don’t know why, I am sitting here smiling?

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, July 22, 2009 in Chewing the Fat