Married thirty-five years next month, my husband and I, while virtually complete opposites have learned a lot about compromise. I am definitely the thrill-seeking, adventure-loving one of the pair. While he quite frequently indulges my “wild” side, he prefers a much more chilled, laid-back approach.
My perfect vacation consists of a beach getaway complete with a private cabana, scuba diving, jet skis, and whatever other water sports are available. As luck would have it, my annual paid vacation time falls within “spring break month” for virtually every public school, parochial school, and college/university. Neither of us has any desire to share a beach with wild young’uns free of their educational confines.
Last year I acquiesced to his need for solitude, and we spent a week roughing it in the mountains of New Mexico, sans electricity or indoor plumbing. It was certainly an adventure, just not the type I prefer. This year we started planning a trip to the California wine country, but then our only daughter decided to get married. Naturally, our planning and resources shifted gears rather quickly.
With the wedding five months behind us, we once again started thinking about our spring break escape. The trip to New Mexico really was a much-needed getaway that left us somewhat prepared for when the world broke. Nonetheless, 2020 was still a turbulent year with unique challenges, compounded by the recent snowmageddon that left us without power and water for almost a week. Enduring all of that mess left me with absolutely no desire to actually spend money on any other kind of roughing it!
One Saturday as we sat together in our home office searching for potential getaways, I spoke these words, “I’m game for another mountain cabin as long as there are power and running water, and oh, if you can find one with a hot tub, that would be a huge bonus!” We booked our Arkansas trip that very day; a quiet cabin for him, running water, electricity, and a hot tub for me.
In my mind, I expected a nice hot tub soak our first evening, but the weather was uncooperative, raining off and on from our Sunday afternoon arrival well into the evening. Monday morning dawned dreary and overcast but cleared up in plenty of time for me to enjoy a late afternoon soak.
The deck of the cabin where the hot tub sits overlooks a mountain range surrounded by lush green fields. The peaceful environment was exactly what my weary soul needed and those jets, oh, my, goodness. I’m an athlete, a runner, so my feet take a lot of abuse. Not only do I pound the pavement each morning, but I have a standing workstation, so I’m on my feet at least nine hours a day at the office. Knowing the trauma my feet regularly endure, I work hard to care for them; wearing comfortable shoes, using a lacrosse ball to roll out my heels and arches, elevating them at the end of each day for increased blood flow, and getting the occasional foot rub/pedicure.
Who knew my poor, tired feet would benefit greatly from our vacation compromise? While my brain zoned out during the hot tub marinade, quite by accident my foot drifted up towards one of the hot tub jets. Can you say paradise? It felt absolutely divine. I used that jet to massage every square inch of both feet. My feet were so happy that my face could not help but join in the celebration, leaking tears of pure ecstasy down my cheeks. If my stomach had not been ready for dinner, my feet might not have moved from their spot.
Some would say compromise is a dirty word, my feet would argue otherwise. As for the more adventurous side of me, well, she’s still holding out for a 35th wedding anniversary beach getaway next month. Hopefully, it’ll come with a hot tub.
Until Next Time,
Becky J Miller
Warrior Princess