A Perfect Kind of Day

Yesterday was a perfect kind of day.

We did our typical lazy Sunday sort of day where we slept in, took the morning at a slow pace, accomplished nothing. Roy requested stroganoff for lunch and so we hit the grocery store mid-morning where I filled up a cart with items we'll need to survive our week and then headed home to make what I assumed would be enough stroganoff to have leftovers for Roy and Jace at least one--if not two--days this week. But as it turned out, Guerin and Jesse Neilson joined us. I can honestly say that is one of my favorite things in the world--people circled around our dining table laughing it up and eating and talking about everything and nothing. There was plenty of food--absolutely. But leftovers? Not so much. But I'm totally content. I would do that every day if I could.

After lunch, we loaded up the four wheeler and the dirt bikes and headed off to the trails at Sylva which is about an hour away. The drive is breathtaking as we drove through the mountains, the sun shining and the road winding. Roy and I were in the little red pickup pulling the trailer while Savana, Guerin and Jace led the way in the mini cooper. We finally pulled up to this remote gas station and went inside to buy the passes and get directions to the site. And then we were off again, this time winding our way up a narrow two lane road that led up to a gravel road that at last led to a clearing where we parked our cars in the middle of nowhere and unloaded the bikes. We got there about 3:30 which was rather late. Most people were loading up their bikes and calling it a day as we were just beginning ours--which was totally okay, from our perspective.

And then the boys took off, their engine revving, while Savana and I made ourselves comfortable in the back of the little red pickup where we chatted it up about life and her upcoming school year and future plans for her life and such. The weather was pristine; the scenery was stunning; life is good.

A few hours later, after the boys had blazed some trails and such, Roy said to Savana, "Hop on the back! I'll give you a spin!" The words were hardly out of Roy's mouth before Savana threw on her helmet and hopped on behind him, holding on for dear life with a big ole grin plastered on her face. They roared off into the woods, Guerin and Jace trailing behind. When they came back  a few minutes later as the trail they rode was not quite a mile long, Savana hopped off, proclaiming how fun that was and Roy told me, "Come on! Let's go! Hop on!"

My favorite things in life are sitting by a crackling fire while sipping tea and contemplating the deeper meaning of life. Or hanging out on my swing while the fireflies come alive and flit around me. Or hanging out in the back of a pickup truck with a great book while those with adventuresome spirits blaze trails and rev their engines.

But hanging on for dear life while the ground beneath me whizzes by faster than the speed of sound? Eh. Not so much.

Roy, well-aware of my "lack of adventure" spirit, made all kinds of promises that he would go slowly, that the trail was easy, that my life was not in danger, blah blah, until he finally coaxed me out of the pickup and onto the back of that four wheeler.

He didn't keep his promise.

And I absolutely saw my life flash before my eyes. More than once.

When we made it back to the clearing, my hands hurt from clenching his shirt so tightly, and Roy joked with Guerin that he never got out of first gear but his head hurt from my screaming in his ear. I quickly scrambled off that four wheeler and proudly proclaimed I had enough for the rest of my life...and I meant it.

Around 6:30 or so, we loaded up the bikes...okay--Roy and Guerin loaded up the bikes, and we headed wistfully back down the mountain. Savana spied some mountain lion cubs--about 5 of them--so she and Guerin stopped the car so that she could get out of the car and get a closer look.

We didn't think that was the brightest thing she's ever done...but once a kid hits almost 23? Yeah. They don't listen too well. Okay. Kids never listen that well...but once your kids are grown you forget that and pretend in your head that they used to listen and now they don't so it must be an age thing...when really it's just a kid thing...or maybe it's a person thing...but when they're infants and you're holding these precious bundles in your arms, you just know you're going to be a perfect parent and they're going to be a perfect child and that this perfect child will never behave like that obnoxious two year old that your friend has...and then, well, then they do.

Anyway...

Jace proclaimed that he was going to die from hunger at any minute and so we went into town and spied a Mexican restaurant in a strip mall and since Roy and I are always game for Mexican food, the five of us ventured inside where we laughed and joked and chatted it up over chips and salsa and burritos and enchiladas and tacos and such.

On our way home, Roy said, "That was a perfect day."

And it was.