New Way of Camping

As I am recently retired, my hubby and I took a few days off mid -week and went camping. 

This is the first time out for our new camper, and first time it’s just the two of us (except for the dogs).

I don’t know which one feels stranger.

I have camped most of my life, with some gaps in years between campsites. But it’s always been in a tent. Lots of bending and pulling and grunting before you can sit and listen to the wind blow.

As my retirement gift to myself, we bought a little RV. Now most of the movement is about not bumping into each other inside the small surroundings. 

I’ve also always gone camping with my kids and grandkids. There is no life better than sitting around a campfire talking and smoring with family and friends.

Last night it was just the two of us.

Tonight for dinner it will be just the two of us.

Tonight around the fire it will be just the two of us.

The jury is still out on the two of us thing.

I love my husband. He let’s me be me. Even if that Me is goofy half the time.

But times like these are the real test for a relationship. No taking off and folding laundry, no going downstairs and making Angel Tears, no going out to the garage and working and fixing stuff all day.

This is silence. Together. Daylight and evening light. No movies or kids to distract us. No job to go to, nowhere to hide.

It’s been quite interesting so far.

I know we are not Siamese Twins. We don’t need to be glue balled to each other 24/7. We actually LIKE each other. Despite the fact that I love writing and Crafts and he loves hunting and fishing, we seem to give each other enough space to be our own selves.

But with my adult onset A.D.D. I sometimes find it hard to just sit still and do nothing.

To read and then play a video game on my iPad then take a little nap then walk the dog then read then write a blog then read some more then find a gossip column on my phone is my idea of doing nothing.

He sits and reads.

I’m still getting used to this camping alone thing. 

Then again, “being alone” is a relative term, right?

 

 

Dreaming of Godzilla

Some say dreams are manifestations of your deepest fears. Others say dreams show you who and what you really want to be. 

I am not a dream analyst, nor a psycho-analyst, but just someone who wonders where dreams come from.

I get the obvious ones: your significant other leaves you, you suddenly become a motivational speaker. And I’m not talking about Godzilla in the distance or some movie star flirting with you. 

The ones that make me wonder are the ones where you could have, should have been a better person. 

Aren’t we always striving to be a “better person”? 

If so, why do we not measure up in our dreams?

I had a dream last night that my mother was in the hospital and some strange people were cleaning her house, and that one social worker told me I might not be able to find out where she was staying because I was a bad daughter and moved out of state.

In reality, my mother passed away long before I moved out of Illinois, long before I got married and had children and grandchildren.

Where does the fuel for that dream fire come from?

I was a good daughter. My mom and I had a really good relationship. My dad remarried, and it took quite a long time to reconnect with him in the same way, but we did reconnect and he was a blessing to me until the end.

I’ve always worked hard to keep friends and family close. It doesn’t matter what you call them — friends, sisters, cousins — love is love. And there should be no rationing because of title, distance, or circumstances.

I’m not here to throw about past relationships. I know in my heart I was a “good person”, contrary to what my dreams portray. And I will continue to do so, for, as simple as it sounds, being a good person makes me feel good.

I just wonder where my head gets these ideas from.

Probably the same place that tells me Godzilla is coming this way and I have to hide in a closet to get away from him.

Where do your dreams come from?