Retreat, part 1 of 3
Okay, okay, I got the message!!! I thought with all the other varied reports about Grace’s retreat, I’d escaped writing one this time around. But since Joleen asked so nicely, here goes. I’m going to post it in installments because it is very, very long. Scroll on by if you wish.I’ve said it before, as have others, and I’ll say it again - if you ever have the opportunity to participate in one of these retreat events, run, don’t walk, to do so. Each one is unique and different, but renewing friendships with some and making friends with new ones bring back the old saying, "Make new friends, and keep the old; One is silver, the other gold." Celia B. and I have been friends and worked together for nearly 30 years, and though Celia doesn’t read the BBChat page regularly, she had graciously consented to accompany me to Rosey’s retreat in 2004, and to the Michigan Lakeside retreat in 2005. So when feelers for participants in Grace’s retreat began to appear on the BBChat, we made our plans to come together once again. Late spring brought rapidly rising gas prices, which in turn sent airline fares into the stratosphere, and so in early June when it looked as though there was no end in sight, Celia went ahead and made our plane reservations for nonstop flights from DC to Ottawa and back, and rental car reservations too. We were all set, and ready to slog through the summer work routine, reading through Grace’s plans avidly each time anything about the retreat was posted.
Ah, at last it is the week of the retreat, leave slips are signed for the time away from work, last minute contact information is left with supervisors, who by this point are probably anxious to get rid of us for a few days, and minute details of what time we needed to be at the airport (2 to 3 hours ahead of scheduled flight time for international flights) are worked out. Uh-oh, that means I need to be at Celia’s house in Virginia by 6:15 am, which means I’ll have to cross the Wilson bridge over the Potomac River in rush-hour traffic. If you know anything about DC area traffic, you know that morning rush hour is 4:30-9:30 am, and evening rush is 3-8 pm, and the Wilson bridge is usually a huge bottleneck because it is part of Interstate 95 carrying east-coast traffic from Boston to Florida. So..... up at 4 am to finish last minute packing in one carry-on bag, clean undies inside, for the entire weekend so I won’t have to pay extra for checked luggage, and I’m ready to roll. Yes, the iron is turned off; yes, I left a voicemail with the code for my security system for a friend who will be picking up my mail; and yes, my passport, medications, and pop-tarts for breakfast are in my purse. And I’m off - traffic on I-95 is heavy but moving steadily, I’ve crossed the bridge and made the proper exit off the interstate to get to Celia’s house, and I’ve managed to miss the deer crossing the riverside drive so closely that all I saw was his underbelly and hooves in the headlights. I pull up in front of Celia’s house without making any wrong turns, and she meets me at the curb with, "You did want to go to Chicago today, didn’t you?" Guess what? A 4 am phone call from the airline that our nonstop flight to Ottawa had been cancelled, and our next choice on that airline wouldn’t leave until 8 pm that evening. By the time I arrived, she had gotten us rescheduled onto another flight which had us changing planes at O’Hare in Chicago, and leaving only a half-hour later than our previously-scheduled flight. Celia’s dear hubby dropped us off at the airport and we work our way through ticketing and security - no questions asked - and plenty of time to eat my poptarts. And at O’Hare, our incoming and outgoing gates are on the same concourse so we had no difficulty making our way through the busiest airport in the US; our flights were all on time, or even a few minutes early.
Arrival in Ottawa is now about 1:30 pm instead of our originally scheduled 10:30 am, but passing through customs and picking up the rental car is uneventful. A quick stop at McDonald’s for late lunch and we’re on the Canadian expressway making our way towards Pembroke. It’s a beautifully sunny day and the trees are showing their fall colors everywhere you look. The highway verges as we worked our way farther north and west were filled with bright red sumac underbrush, rusty brown cattails in marshy areas, and yellowed milkweed pods splitting open in the sun to release their fluffy seed-parachutes in the backwash breeze created by the traffic. At several points along the highway there are construction zones of one-way traffic with workers busily trying to finish resurfacing projects before the winter snows set in; one of these was a bridge construction which had a traffic light at each end rather than a flag-person controlling traffic - much safer for night-time navigation. Two hours put us pulling off the highway onto local roads into Pembroke, passing a blueberry farm on the way. We checked in to the motel and paused to unpack a bit and freshen up before setting out to find Grace in her two-bedroom suite, complete with kitchen and living area. She was delighted to see us, and even though we had only met once before in person, after five minutes it was like we had never been apart. Plans were for Jean, Celia P., Jane, Kathi, and Joleen who where flying into Ottawa to arrive about 9:30 in the evening, so Grace had sandwich materials, homemade wine, and Amish friendship cake ready for them to have dinner when they got in. By the time Celia B, Grace, and I decided to head out for dinner, Nellie had arrived to join us (her smoker husband went to find another motel), and we went into downtown Pembroke to a Thai-Chinese-Vietnamese restaurant. The food was excellent, though quite highly-spiced, and the conversation even better.
When we arrived back at the motel after dinner, Jean’s carload of flyers were just unpacking their car and getting checked in. Hugs and introductions (Celia B. and I had not met Kathi before) were the order of the evening, and Celia P. was already telling stories about the ride up from Ottawa in the dark. We all gathered in Grace’s suite where she presented each of us a deep blue tote bag from the City of Pembroke with all sorts of literature about the city and its tourist attractions, among them the 31 artists’ murals scattered on buildings throughout the business district, the nearby blueberry farm and gift shop, Canadian maple-leaf and Ontario provincial symbol pins, and other advertising goodies. The late arrivals scarfed down ham or turkey sandwiches, and we all shared the delicious friendship cake. Celia P. shared stories of her moves and destruction and rebuilding of her new home, and you know that each story set off gales of laughter for everyone. "Anyway", we all had a good time renewing friendships and cementing new ones, sharing the news of Celia B.’s daughter’s wedding, Stacie’s pregnancy, and Jane’s recuperation from her car accident and various surgeries. I thoroughly enjoyed sitting in a corner with my knitting, and listening to all the conversations going on around me, giving me insights into various personalities and becoming more familiar with family members whose names I might recognize from the BBChat being spoken of with love. Many other BBChat regulars names were mentioned also as various participants recalled memories of Ohio ‘99, Minnesota 2000, and Rosey’s and the Michigan retreats. Plans were made for Friday morning breakfast at everyone’s leisure (continental breakfast served at the motel 6:30-9 am) before Celia B. and I drifted off to our room for the night. We had opened the window when we checked in to let some fresh air in (our room was on the west side with the sun shining in), and we never closed the window the entire weekend.
More later. Marie in Maryland
posted by Marie in Maryland @ 6:22 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home