Jenyfer Matthews

I’m happy to report that my flights home went well – no delays to speak of and no lost luggage. Our longest flight (9 hours) had the regular crew of flight attendants plus a bunch in training so we had much better service than I’m used to which helped as well. Still, nearly 27 hours of traveling with no sleep is not much fun, no matter how perky and attentive the service. They really can’t give you enough roasted almonds and wine to make it truly pleasant.

I said I planned to pop in to Amsterdam for a look around during my layover and I’m proud to say I did it. Proud? Why? I’m not quite as adventurous as I might seem on the surface, for all of my traveling. And I have a fear of public transportation.

Does that sound strange? I’m an American and used to getting around independently in my own car. I used to take the train to work in Cleveland years ago but I bought a monthly pass I flashed as I went and there were only three lines, color coded. A no brainer. Even the train in Cairo is pretty simple.

In Europe public transportation is much more developed. You can get just about anywhere on a bus or a train. So think about it: more stops and destinations mean many many more routes to navigate. They try to make it efficient by selling the tickets from vending machines but when you aren’t familiar with the system it just makes for one more challenge. Trying to figure out how to purchase a ticket to the destination you want from a vending machine with foreign money when the instructions are in Dutch and so are all the signs is no cake walk. But my main worry stems from how more more quickly and efficiently you can get lost if you are on a train / bus than if you are on foot.

But I didn’t let myself off the hook. (I told you I was dedicated to my research) I was pretty disgusted with myself for even thinking of chickening out. One of my new resolutions is not to be such a ninny about stuff like this and to do more things to seize opportunities to enjoy life as it comes. The kids and I were awake, we had loads of time and it wasn’t raining so I had no real reason to NOT go. It was either go into town or follow the kids as they played on the moving walkways in the airport. For five hours.

So I went.

I stowed my luggage in a locker in the airport, found a ticket office with a person to talk to, and ventured out into the larger world of Amsterdam on the train. The kids and I didn’t go so far – they were cold in the 70F cloudy damp weather after coming from Cairo! – but we had time to walk around a bit and had breakfast before we headed back to the airport. The signs in the airport were mostly in Dutch and English. Not so in the city. However even I can follow little pictures of an airplane. And all the people getting on the train with luggage was another clue.

I really enjoyed my short glimpse of Amsterdam and may do it again on the way back through in August (weather permitting – it did rain after we returned to the airport) But next time maybe I’ll bring jackets for the kids and a map.

I went to the doctor a few days ago and was cleared for take off. My pox have been healing top down so my face looks pretty decent now, but I won’t want to wear a bathing suit for at least another week. I had no problem resisting scratching but picking at the scabs is another story. I want them gone. NOW.

You’d think that packing up for a six week vacation with two kids would be difficult. Not so much. Passports – check. Tickets – check. American money – check. Over the years I’ve learned my lesson – go with empty, nested suitcases and fill them with the gifts the kids receive and all the shopping I will do. (Check)

But being on vacation does not mean I won’t do some writing work. In fact, I intend to do some research for my newest project (as yet to be named). My character Aurora is going to do a lot of traveling, first stop: Amsterdam. It just so happens that I have a SEVEN HOUR gap in Amsterdam, going and coming back again. What better way to do research than to hop on the subway into the city after a nearly sleepless night with two tired children and drag them around with me while I absorb the atmosphere of the neighborhood?

And you thought I wasn’t dedicated to my craft.

Anyone who knows me realizes that I love verbal irony and employ sarcasm more than is probably really necessary in civilized conversation. I love ironic situations – not so long ago I posted a picture of a tiny litter can that was recently installed on a corner in my neighborhood where piles of trash are dumped every day in my Squash Blossom blog. The litter can is often empty while trash is heaped high on the ground beneath it.

I also appreciate irony in literature or movies. I love when a couple discovers the depth of their love by the sacrifices they each make for the other, such as in The Gift of the Maji or Romeo and Juliet. And it was ironic when after spending all that time and energy battling the fish in The Old Man and the Sea, when the Santiago finally subdued the fish and brought it to shore it had been consumed en route by sharks.

Turns out I don’t appreciate irony so much in real life however.

It’s a fine example of cosmic irony that I have managed to avoid contracting chicken pox for my entire life and come down with it this week, days before I am due to leave on my summer holiday — when I was planning on finally getting a vaccination. Sitting here itchy, alone and frustrated I fail to find any real amusement or satisfaction in the situation, ironic or not.

Just goes to show what procrastinating gets you.

I am grounded by my doctor and the airline for at least a week and have been told that I cannot circulate in the world (think Typhoid Mary) or eat chocolate or strawberries because they will inflame the itchiness. This goes beyond just simply irony and verges on cruel.

But I suppose I’m not the only one who’s ever discovered that irony isn’t always amusing.

Time is passing. Tomorrow is the last day of school for my daughter, Wednesday for my son. After that there is only a week left until my six week vacation. Three weeks with my mother, three weeks with my father. I’m the adult child of divorced parents with children of my own and they are still sharing custody. It’s not so bad though – at least I get a change of scene. From the hot steamy South to the woods of the Boundary Waters and all the airports in between. Talk about one crazy summer.

I haven’t done much writing in the last week (blogging aside) I’ve been trying to finish up a few sewing projects before I go away. But Aurora has been chatting away inside my head, eager to get started. I’ve shown what I have so far to some trusted friends and I think Aurora is going to get her way and tell her story herself. I’m a bit of a control freak so I’m not sure how the first person thing is going to work out, but we’ll give it a go and see how we work together.

I hope you’re all checking into the contest for ONE CRAZY SUMMER. I went shopping yesterday to gather up some gifts to take home as well as the contest prize. There might even be some bonus items in the mix. I’m not giving any hints though. You’ll just have to take your chances on the contest.