Clear and reboot

Sometimes, you need to hit the reset button.

Sometimes, you don't realize just how much you need to hit the reset button.

This was one of those times.

I spent this past weekend with friends in an unhurried town in upstate New York. The type of town where you go to the supermarket and bump into friends and maybe make a handshake deal on that work you need done on your roof. Where the columnist of the local paper reports on her bridge games as news.

Two friends have a house there, which they have dubbed the Mouse House due to it being a series of smallish rooms. They bought it a couple of years ago as an escape from NYC, and have spent a lot of time lovingly renovating (some of it through those handshake deals as mentioned above). With the help of friends, professionals, and probably lots of pizza/beer (or maybe lovely home cooked meal/wine) paychecks, the have restored a previously unusable barn into a loft and music studio space. Thanks to a lot of paint and an eye for detail, the inside of the house is transformed into a warm and welcoming space.

There is no TV. There is no cell phone service. There is a brief sloping descent for sledding. It is a small slice of heaven.

The weekend consisted of the aforementioned sledding, eating really great food, sitting by the wood burning stove, making really strong coffee, eating some more, playing with one of the cutest babies on the planet, puzzle building, boggle playing, and general lethargy.

I made it out running early one morning - even when on vacation I can't help but wake up at 7am, and managed to go for miles with only one moving car sighting. Mostly it was rolling hills, a few dogs hanging out in their respective yards, and snow. It was a slow run, as I was more focused on looking all around and letting my mind go blank temporarily.

Our friends daughter, Baby E, is getting to be a real little kid. She is on the verge of turning 1, and on the verge of walking. She still likes to hold onto a finger or two of an adult to help with balance, but every once in a while she'll strike out on her own. She and I spent a lot of time examining sticks from the kindling pile. She was generous with her time amongst all the adults, playing with anyone that would pick up an instrument from her Be Bop Band playset, or make a funny face, or help her buzz about the house.

On the way home P and I routed through Scranton, PA to go to Wegmans. While 40 miles out of the way (which, in the overall travel mileage, was small, really), it was totally worth it. We *heart* Wegmans. The whole experience of it, really. Those who don't generally associate the word "experience" with the word "supermarket" have never been to Wegmans.

In particular, we made our way to the mighty Weg for their brand of crunchy peanut butter. I'll save that story for another day. In short, we are now happily restocked!

Man, transitioning back into the work world was a bitch. You have all of these memories in your head, but to your coworkers you are no different. Except maybe a little cranky for having to be there. :)

Our next extended trip is in a few weeks. I. Can. Not. Wait.