I just got back from a very lovely, and much desired vacation with my husband and son. We traveled to Hot Springs, Arkansas. James and I like to go their when we need a bit of time off because it’s within driving distance, has plenty of things to do that fit our interests, and it is never very expensive.
As always, I packed a ton of crafts to do during my down time, and didn’t touch a single one. I wonder, truly, how much space I could save if I packed what I knew I would actually use on a trip. This time I packed some yarn for a granny square blanket I’ve got in the works, my nook, a copy of the Lord of the Rings I’ve started, a notebook for writing, and my brother’s Nintendo DS with Pokemon Black. All of this for three nights and four days. And guess what I actually worked on? Not a darn thing. I didn’t touch a single one except to move around to get to something else! During our down time, I just sat and watched TV with my husband, or played on the playground with my son.
We did get out and walk around a bit, and I got to go to my very first spa! It was WONDERFUL! I vowed to myself to save up to do it at least once a year or something, and maybe one time even drag James along. The spa I went to was called the Quapaw Bathhouse, on Bathhouse Row, a street full of early 20th century bathhouses that used to be full to the brim with the wealthy taking their leisurely health baths.
Some are shut down for restoration, but many have been fully restored and are open to the public. It was really quite neat, and like I said, I loved going. There was a little mishap, which resulted in probably one of the most embarrassing experiences in my life, but since this is a public blog I’m not going to say anything other than I felt like what a 13 year old girl must feel like when her monthly visitor shows up for the first time ever unexpectedly in the middle of 6th period gym class, or something like it. All I’m saying is that the woman at the front told me to come downstairs wearing nothing but “my robe and my smile”, so I did. I didn’t know you could wear more than that.
The massage was great. After my little accident, I wasn’t in the mood for some handsome, muscular or drop dead beautiful massage therapist. God is good though, and looked out for me, even over something as insignificant as that, and my massage therapist was a wonderful woman called Miss Mae and, according to her, she is the longest working licensed massage therapist in the state of Arkansas at 54 years. She’s in her 80’s and her hands worked magic.
After that, we spent a day in Texarkana, a lovely town that feels a lot smaller than it actually is, and visited with lots of old friends at the Scout O Rama (my husband and his close friends are all still very involved with the BSA).
I’d also like to mention that there was steak. Lots of steak.
In all, it was a great time, but I didn’t make any progress on anything this blog is supposed to be about. I hope you can forgive me! Don’t worry though, I’m already back on the saddle with my sewing, and I hope to have a “guest” blogger or two (in the form of very crafty sisters in law) in the very near future. Once I figure out how to do that, that is.