A Relaxing Getaway?

A common thread in life these days is the desire to enjoy our time. Our schedules are busy and we nearly melt into bed at night after each day's activities. I love days where I'm not on a time constraint, having to be somewhere at a certain time. I call these Halcyon days. So last year when the stress mounted, my husband arranged for me to go to Salish Lodge in Sammamish, Wa. overnight.

Usually, when I get to do something like this it is spur-of-the-moment. I hardly have enough time to pack, arrange for a spa treatment and dinner reservations (I have to eat). It's not as if he's kicking me out the door (I don't think), it's just that he may recognize that I might blow like Mt. Vesuvius. That wouldn't be pretty...so he sends me out for a break.

It was a beautiful day that day, and I just loved the drive out with all the Evergreen trees standing tall and yellow-washed from the sun's rays. I quickly checked in, changed and went to eat before my facial at 7pm. On my way to the restaurant there was a wedding reception going on, and I immediately missed my husband and kiddos, and this is why I go...I always come back filled up with love for them. Well, it's one reason anyway...onward to dinner.

When I dine alone, a book is my companion. I believe I was reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. I'm sure I had salmon for my main dish, but what I remember most was the Heirloom Tomato Salad. My grandfather grew tomatoes in pots on his porch in California, and you've never tasted a tomato until you've had one fresh from the vine. I used to get acid sores in my mouth from eating so many in my youth. So when the chance to have a tomato salad, heirloom no-less, I could not pass. Satiated from dinner, it was time for the spa.

I was told I could use the hot tub and steam room before or after my treatment, so I packed a bathingsuit. I planned on putting it under my dress, not wanting to be transported back to changing in a high-school locker room environment. But as I was shoving items in my overnight bag, I accidentally packed a bikini, it being black and the same texture as my one-piece. And it gets worse, somehow I acquired bottoms that must've belonged to an unknown friend I've travelled with in the last 12 years. I've travelled a lot with many friends and black is a common bathing suit color, and well, sometimes you acquire things that aren't yours. Even worse, I wore them.

The lady who did my facial, was no-nonsense and had a European accent...the accent, I thought, is why they hired her. I believe I whinced when she turned the bright light on to examine my face. She said my skin was dehydrated, sagging and in need of some extraction. I don't quite remember the wonderful aromas or the rich creamy slathering of product, I'm sure they were there, but I do remember the pain from extraction and a gentle slapping at the end. Well if I must endure the rigors of the spa, I shall.

So after my facial, I timidly ventured into the hot tub area to see if the coast was clear enough for my ensemble. I cased the place and noticed that in one hot tub (there were two), were two women who were very cozy, and a loud man and women, who I assumed had already been to a lengthy dinner. I didn't want to bother them...so off to the other one I went. Thankfully, it was empty so I quickly dipped myself in the large tub, but forgot about how clothing floats upwards when you get into water. My too-big bottoms gave a pull toward the sky, and I was so thankful nobody else was around! But soon more people entered the area, so I got out of there fast.

Next, It was finally time to relax in my room. I love to study, so I sleep on one side of the bed and the books sleep on the other. I called my husband to tell him about my experience so far, and how glad I was to be in my room. We laughed about the bathing suit, and I told him that I might start a fire in the fireplace. He said, "Be careful."

There is a reason for this. When we were first married, I was barbequeing and caught my shorts on fire. They were the kind of shorts with fringe on the bottom, I've always liked jeans with holes and tears, and these were the ones I donned for the evening. The fire was going pretty good, but as I was putting the lid back on, a giant flame shot out the side and caught my fringe on fire. I started screaming and calling for my husband, and by the time he got there I was working my way inside the house from the deck patting myself as I struggled to get my shorts off. The poor neighbors. So, the caution to be careful was warranted. I threw on a robe just in case I had to call the front desk for help...but all went well.

The rest of the stay went on without incident. I returned home thankful for family and a little laughter. My travel tips: make sure you have the right bathingsuit, plan ahead and store up funny little moments for those days when things aren't that funny. Oh, and try not to schedule the last facial of the day...it might be painful.