Home Holidays

Home Holidays 

A holiday, a temptation that’s hard to resist. A forty-hour work week that, with the help of a cell phone, leaks into home life gives one little time to relax. Couple that with community committee meetings and children’s recreational schedules and one has little free time left. A white knight––a break from the daily rat-race.

A holiday can be a taxing event. There’s planning, booking and depending upon where you go expenses that have to be met. Then the return to “normal” life means facing a backlog of responsibilities––yard maintenance, dozens of emails and phone messages. It almost seems like the cost of slowing down for a week or two means when you return you have to scramble like crazy.

Still that break, that time to escape every day responsibilities is something one works for, something one looks forward to. That freedom-reward is like experiencing a moment of heavenly bliss. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to experience that holiday effect without the holiday hassle after-effects?

It can be done. A weekend skiing or camping holiday, a day at the beach, work for some. Attending a local festival or enjoying a yearly seasonal event works too. Preparation and recovery tasks are considerably reduced from a full-blown holiday. 

Imagine the freedom to take a lengthened lunch break or coffee break when a friend drops in or the weather begs you to experience a little down time. You might call that a mini-holiday. If only employers could do that. It might come as non-paid break, but it could be a life enriching experience. It could even lead to more intense efforts when one returns to work. 

Dreaming? Perhaps, but if it is an enjoyable fantasy then escape with me in my novel Baggage burdens. and sink into Joseph’s life. He’s a market gardener who savors the joy of a mini-holiday by taking lengthened coffee break and later a lengthened lunch break with his wife.

A peek into Joseph’s life  

Draping his loose shirt on the back of the cedar chair, Joseph sits down and soaks in the heat from the hot seat. With his head resting on the back of the chair, he stares at the blue sky. It’s a perfect afternoon to stretch out on the lounger. He moves there.

The slamming back door announces Jill’s arrival. Looking up, he sees her ponytail bob back and forth out of her cap. The way she carries the tray with a pitcher of cold lemonade and two glasses brings an image of Jill working in the bakery. Once he dared hope that Jill would do the same at his place. His dream is now reality. 

I’m really blessed.

Joseph imagines sitting at a resort in some hot spot like Mexico. No. This is better, he concludes. Remembering he has work to do, he rationalizes. After an hour, I can still return to my garden. I haven’t spent a cent, but I’ve enjoyed a mini holiday.

He slumps back in the lounger and drinks in the nature around them. Birds chirp in the spruce trees, a distant plane drones overhead, a car drives slowly down the road, and a fly buzzes by his ear. He flicks it away. The neighbour’s dog adds its voice to nature’s symphony. 

Then the lemonade splashing in his glass opens his eyes. Jill stands above him, her hand holding out a glass. She fills her glass. The pitcher is close to the glass. He guesses she poured his lemonade to catch his attention.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” she says.

Joseph nods. 

All morning, Joseph tends to machinery maintenance in the shed. At noon, when he comes to the house, he finds the picnic table in the shade and Matthew picking at a muffin. Grilled cheese sandwiches and a jug of ice tea wait for him. Jill appears with two bowls of the strawberry and rhubarb fruit. 

Pointing to the bowl, Jill reports Matthew declared it’s very good. They eat their lunch to the music of buzzing bees and the occasional drone of a plane gliding overhead. Memories of lounging on the balcony at her grandmother’s carry Jill to another carefree time. Joseph imagines Sunday afternoon has already descended upon them. Work’s done. A lounger waits.

Haiku capsule:

Sun’s call: rest with me.

Birds chirp, planes drone, faint barking 

Summer’s seduction

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Dry Drunk