View of the VOG during a walk, Captain Cook, Hawaii
Okay, so I’ve been quiet for a while. What happened was this: we went to Hawaii. We had a wonderful time. I can’t even show you any great pictures, however, because the Big Island had a terrible layer of VOG (the volcanic ash “smog” from the latest eruption) while we were there, making the ocean-view home we rented turn more into a see-that-gray-down-there-that’s-where-the-ocean-is kind of view home.
On our last day, the clouds and VOG lifted, and we suddenly had the very impressive view that had been there all along. But we were too busy rushing through the checkout checklist and loading up the car to get to the airport to even snap one picture. Isn’t that always the way? How many times have you heard that story? Ahhh, the tropics. That’s part of why I love them. Completely and utterly unpredictable (okay, maybe I could have guessed there was going to be a VOG problem, since this last eruption started a year ago), thus making the times when the tropics hit that delicate place between too hot/wet and blissful perfection something of a Holy Grail for me.
I used to be in the travel industry, meaning I spent lots of time in places during the “off-season,” the only time anyone gave great deals to industry people – supposedly to make up for the lousy pay. Which means I’ve waded, in hip-high water, across brand-new parking lots at fancy resorts, passing overturned palm trees on my determined way to find breakfast during a monsoon. I’m somewhat of an expert on the size of flying cockroaches at resort areas on the coast of Mexico during August. And let’s just say that the rainy season in Costa Rica is really, really, rainy – they aren’t kidding.
That’s why a little VOG didn’t scare me, people. The air index said the air was “good” quality. But then again, I don’t have asthma. I wish my spouse didn’t either. But my spouse does, which nearly necessitated a flight home on the second day. Fortunately, the inhaler worked pretty well if it was taken twice as often as normal, so no one flew home early. Unfortunately, the inhaler lowered my spouse’s immune system, thus giving all the airplane germs a wonderful place to play. And now, three weeks later, we are all almost well again, from what we are convinced was something as bad as the swine flu (no drama queens here, at all). Yup, one, two, three, we all had our day (okay, many, many days) of play dates with the germs.
Add that to all the craziness that one must put up with after taking a vacation, all those things that lined up waiting for my return, doubling or tripling in size and certainly urgency, and you have me, no blog posting for a month, wondering when I will ever have the energy to attempt coming home from a vacation again. (It’s not the vacation that kills me, you see, it’s simply coming home from vacations that is harmful to my well-being.)
I relaxed enough in Hawaii to have that wonderful, gee, why is my life so complicated at home feeling upon my return. Why is there so much clutter? Who needs this many clothes? Why do I live somewhere where a heater is necessary? Doesn’t that happen to you, too? I love that feeling! Other than the fact that of course one pays a bizillion dollars to stay in a gorgeous ocean-view 4 bedroom house with tons of windows overlooking banana, mango, papaya, and breadfruit trees that somebody else is paid to take care of – just a little detail, I assure you – I’m sure I could make my life that simple here, too!
The point is, well, I don’t really have a point, as I’m sure you could tell. But I’m back, diving deeper into the craziness of it all. And tomorrow, I’ll tell you about a very exciting piece of that craziness!
