Escape

I'm tired of writing about health and cleaning topics, so I'll write instead about my big weekend away. I'm leaving Friday morning to stay with my son until Sunday. Certainly, I've seen him more than usual over the past few months, but we had made plans for last weekend that I canceled because of my hurt back -- a blessing in disguise since I ended up in the hospital for something unrelated -- and I need some fun. We haven't mapped out any particular activities, but the low end of the spectrum would involve just walking around Winter Park, a charming historic area not far from his apartment; the high end would be kayaking at Wekiva Springs. The water in the Springs stays the same temperature year 'round, but that doesn't mean it would be pleasant if the air temperature is cool. Neither activity would cost much but would provide us both with a much-needed change of pace.

I had a dream last night that I moved to London with my youngest son. Our apartment was lovely, but after spending our first night there, we saw that it had flooded. His room in particular had several feet of standing water, and I cautioned him against getting out of bed (the water was above the electrical outlets and I was worried he would get shocked); however, I was walking around with complete disregard for safety. For some reason, my mother and grandmother had accompanied us on the trip to move abroad. They were staying at a hotel but arrived as I was trying to deal with the flood situation. I awoke alarmed, especially (perhaps insanely) because my son hadn't returned a text I sent him yesterday, and my mother and grandmother are dead. Does that make any sense? I've since heard from him (he's in the last few days of his current semester, so I didn't want to bother him), so I'm considering it simply a visit from my mother and grandmother. Still, it was weird. And I know I don't want to move to London (with no offense to my British friends).