Communion

Communion

(Part two of Taking Time Out)

It was quite a contrast from how this same park felt 40 years ago when my family often camped in it. No camping allowed now, but back then campers of all sorts were packed in like a game of pick-up sticks thrown down from a being in the sky. Boats would be lined up and down the bank, tied to anything that would hold them still or just drug up on the gravel so far they could not float away. A couple dozen kids wandered between campers and boats and old men fishing, exploring all of the sticks and rocks and creatures within ear shot of their parent’s voices, waiting for the call to come back for dinner, hoping it would not come for some time. I was one of those kids. Maybe I still am, as I had stopped to buy food, but still had more important things to do than eat.

Time Out for You

Taking Time Out

(Part one of a two part tale)

I quit fantasizing and just left work early one Friday afternoon. I had carried the illicit plan around for weeks, finally springing it upon my household that I was going to abandon them and my more proper responsibilities for a weekend at the Cedar Rock Squirrel Ranch, our “place at the lake.” The two hour drive was one I had made many times over many years with my family. I could “do it in my sleep” as they say.  But today was different. I was alone.