The Pleasure Of Little Getaways

Rochambeau Roadside Inn, Williamsburg, Virginia | May 2025

It felt so good to getaway. To rest and explore. Have a little adventure. To let someone else do the cooking. To feast on fluffy scrambled eggs and sourdough toast, homemade granola and fruit and yogurt, and lattes crafted to perfection. (Many thanks to the chef and baristas at Hohl Cafe in Toano and Williamsburg. Yes, we ate at both locations for several meals!) To sleep in a big old king sized bed, ceiling fan whirring overhead, in a restored vintage motel. To listen to the frog serenade in the evening after a day of rain. To not care if it rained. To wander through bookstores and gardens and thrift shops. To take photographs for the sheer pleasure of noticing. To walk aimlessly. To hold hands with my husband and rest my head on his shoulder. To think of my life a step or two away and be pleased with the view. I am happier at home for having been away, even if only for a few days, even only 80 miles down the road, even though we are still the same.

Lately

I haven’t taken many photographs lately.

Unless you count the one I took of our now defunct bathroom exhaust fan (It’s as old as our home. That’s 40 years). That picture was for the electrician so he could purchase a new one for us.

Unless you count the one I took of inside the new Latin American café while we were waiting for our tacos. Just because I loved the bright and saturated green on the walls.

Unless you count the one of the bicycle on a rack atop a car, leaning over to the right. The car was just ahead of us and that lean made me worry that the bike would fall off of the vehicle and cause an accident. This made my teeth itch (which is my new way of saying it makes me anxious and feels very uncomfortable).

Unless you count the selfie I took to show my sister how I am trying to grow out my gray naturally curly hair. A definite work-in-progress. Any day now I may cave and get pixie haircut.

Or maybe the one with zinnias waiting to be planted. Zinnias were my father’s favorite flowers and that was reason enough for me to snap a picture.

Even though I haven’t been actively working on a project or trying to take “good” photographs, I’ve been busy in photography-adjacent activities.

I spent some time trying to figure out how to turn off those darn auto-enhancement features on my iPhone that ruin every single photograph. Success at last!

Then I spent some time trying to figure out why Adobe Bridge keeps randomly not responding for no apparent reason. For this I have no immediate solution, though I do think it is a compatibility issue with Windows.

I’ve spent some time every day practicing painting with watercolors. This feels like play even though I’ve only painted color swatches and a color wheel so far. I did spend a lot of time gathering materials and that was really fun.

I’ve spent time with new used books. Our library has a dedicated bookshop for used books that feels like a treasure trove.

With my son’s help, I managed to print a postcard back on a stack of prints I had from Artifact Uprising. I was able to feed the 4x6 photographs through the envelope print tray of our laser printer and print the postcard image on the back side of each photo. Voila! Perfect postcards to share with friends.

I spent some time writing a long letter to my friend Jenny and then exploring her substack, In Search of Wonder. She’s a gifted photographer, a generous teacher, and a steadfast friend. I’m so lucky to have her in my life!

And then I wandered around my hometown, which feels less and less like home, and took a few photographs of things that made me feel loved.

When you find yourself falling into the pit of
anxiety, remember the ladder of hope that
reminds you there is no reason to be afraid.
There is still a way out of this, and you are still
capable—not perfect, but capable—and you
have permission to try to climb again. Even if
your hands shake, and your knees are weaker
from the fall, you can still trade your fears of
tomorrow with hope for today:  the courageous
decision to climb on anyway out of the pit of
anxious thoughts.

There is no reason to live afraid. —Morgan Harper Nichols

Standing on Ceremony

Please make yourself at home. There is no need to stand on ceremony.

I often hold back on my true feelings to avoid even a hint of conflict. These are patterns of behavior that served me well as a young child, but as an adult, they have wreaked havoc on my relationships. And I am changing my ways.

Tired of acting overly or unnecessarily polite, I find myself in a kind of fog. The way forward is not clear. I don’t want to be difficult. But I need to find a way to be in connection with others without losing my sense of self along the way.

What do I want? This question that I have so seldom even considered is now at the top of my mind.

Even though drinking coffee or tea or wine are all socially expected, I don’t really like any of them. It sounds like this. No thank you. I prefer water.

Joy feels good. Depriving myself of foods that I love, in the name of wellness or health, feels like a thief trying to steal that joy. I’ve been using a continuous glucose monitor to help me prevent my prediabetes from becoming full on diabetes as though it was my life’s work. It’s time to let that sh*t go. It sounds like this. I’ll wait and see how my lab results look without making predictions that I’m not doing enough to change my lifestyle.

I’m not standing on ceremony anymore.