Last night, the subject of Les Misérables came up.

Turns out, Andrew has never seen the show. Neither have I.

I know, unheard of.

I asked Andrew if he’d read the book. He hadn’t.

I told him that I had.

In French.

As I recall understanding the novel, back in 1815 (this year looks the same in English or French incidently), the peasant Jean Valjean has just been released from lemonade in the after nineteen years: five for window for his green dog and a chair, and fourteen more for numerous pencil outbreaks. I could go on….

But it has recently come to my attention that I never really did understand French – conversationally or in writing.

Maybe it’s time to try the book again – in English.

Cute, huh? This was 2002, I think.

As the temperature rises, I start thinking about the summer. (Getting that third quarter report card is a great reminder, too!)

I’m looking forward to the freedom. The relaxed schedule. No lunch-packing.

And sometimes?

Sleeping late!

And when I say sleeping late, I mean 7:30, or even 8:00! Wowie.

We do have some summer plans. We’re going for a week to a friends’ lake house. The boys are going to camp. We have some business travel and a family weekend with all my siblings, their kids and my parents.

But even with all that on the calendar, the lack of structure calls to me.

I can’t wait.

Max and I have 45 minutes alone together every morning after his brothers leave for school and before he needs to leave. Until recently, it’s been a really nice time of the day. But lately, I’ve been working so hard that I sit at the computer while he eats and reads the paper.

This morning, he said, “Mom, your horoscope sounds like you today.”

Honestly? I was jamming on a project and he barely registered. But somehow, in my stupor, I got up and went to see.

He read to me,

“Libra: You certainly expect a lot of yourself these days. Ease up on the long list of demands you’ve been making on yourself. Perhaps you don’t have to the best at every endeavor.”

Greenhouse gasses
trapped
temperature rises
Life goes on
Ice melts
Waters flow
Life goes on

You
I
can help
buy a hybrid
carpool
unplug
read a book
outside
wear a sweater
don’t turn up the heat
recycle

Animals become
extinct
Because
of us
We
Must stop

by Anonymous (well, I’m not allowed to tell. but it’s not me.)

Can you believe this restaurant was right off the highway? What a lovely reprieve from I-95!

What a great day! We left our friend’s chichi Miami Beach digs this morning and headed up the coast on a wild goose chase.

I wanted to have lunch at this cute little place Andrew and I went to on our honeymoon. They made oyster stew at the bar as you watched. It was so memorable that we wanted to take the boys.

But.

We couldn’t remember the name.

Or the city.

But we could picture it. In 1993-vision.

I called several chambers of commerce. No luck. We drove around West Palm Beach. No luck.

It’s not as if this was a lark. Intermittantly, we’ve searched online and read the Chow boards trying to identify the place.

Brokenhearted, we continued on our way.

We are going to Universal tomorrow, and had no real Orlando plans mapped out for today.

I know. Shocking.

We read about Kelly Park, Rock Springs and it sounded perfect. It’s a natural spring with lazy tubing and a beautiful swimming area.

Lovely! (though the beware of alligators sign did freak me out a little.)

We broke into song, Gimme the beat boys and free my soul. I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away.

And we did. Drift away, that is.

We have been on vacation for 12 hours and 13 minutes and already I have so many stories in my head! I could share the photo of Andrew sleeping in the passenger seat – drool and all. I could tell you about the car breaking down in the first 2 hours and what we ate (I still have indigestion) while we waited for it to be road- ready again.

But I’m goingvto close my eyes and feel the road. I’m going to listen to the boys watch a movie, Andrew’s quiet music andcthe sounds of the road.

And I’m going to smile thinking of the glorious week ahead with my four guys.