Skip to content

Sometimes It’s Not The Journey, It Is The Destination

I am not very good at doing, well, nothing. But it was one of the conditions I had to agree to just to get the husband out of the house and on this trip. In many ways I don’t have much to work with with this man. He can be pushed, or pulled, only so far…like trying to drag a cat on a leash. So we went away to Duluth for a few a days but it was just the basics. No frills. No scenic drives. No scenic overlooks (except for that one, at the rest stop). No scenic strolls. But still, it was good to get away. The little man was stoked to return to the “treehouses” (what he calls the Mountain Villas, and hey, I think it’s a better name for them). Nothing exceptional happened during our stay, just a series of small moments.

  • When we first drove in to town I got turned around. The husband has no sense of direction and at one point I whined that he should be a better navigator. From the backseat a slightly sleepy little man scolded me. “Mom,” he said, seriously, “that’s not nice. He is not an alligator.”
  • Around lunchtime on day two I started making the little man a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Standard. Midway through the process I was pulling the jelly jar out of the fridge and managed to drop it squarely on the toes of my left foot. I cried out and started doing a little dance of pain. The little man asked what was going on. The husband explained. The little man looked concerned. Then he asked, “but where is the bread?”
  • One of the perks at our treehouse was a whirlpool/hot tub. Unfortunately to enjoy it properly, without causing permanent hearing loss to each occupant of said treehouse, we would all have needed heavy duty hearing protection. It was so very loud.
  • We were mostly unplugged on this trip. I’d meant to bring my old laptop, to do some writing, but couldn’t locate the power cords before we left. The husband did bring his laptop, but he couldn’t locate a WiFi signal from up in the treehouse. At one point we headed down into the city again, to go to the co-op, but got a little turned around. We wound up doing a little wardriving on West Fourth Street. The husband whipped out his laptop, found a signal, and got some directions from google maps. Turns out all we needed to do was turn around and go the other direction. It might have been easier to just ask someone at the corner store.
  • Our last night in Duluth the guys wanted Pizza Luce for dinner, but didn’t want to leave the treehouse to get it. So I was sent out to retrieve it. On my return drive I was treated to a view that’s hard to describe. Duluth is a hilly town with ribbons of concrete running in and out of it. I was driving into the sunset and looked up to see a railroad bridge, and on it a string of boxcars perfectly silhouetted against the darkening sky.

I wasn’t ready to leave yet, but I must say the timing of our return was pretty decent. When we pulled up to the house, our new Squeezebox was waiting for us on the front doorsteps (more on that later) before it started raining in earnest, so the box was not soaked through. And not long after we settled in a phone call informed us that our new dining room table and chairs are being delivered today. Yay us and our conspicuous consumerism! Now it’s back to work.
Bonus: I’m quite glad that I haven’t had to work this sort of customer service job a while, but Amanda had the moxie to say Suck it! to that rudeass customer, when the rest of us, we would only have been daydreaming about it.
Plus: There is something so daydreamy (in a nice way) and otherworldly about James spending his Saturday snapping off Polaroids of a southern belle dressed up as Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. I do so wish he could share the results.
And: There’s a small Duluth photoset on flickr.

birch tree