The annual trips began in January, 2000, although at the time we did not know it would become an annual event. My daughters wanted to plan something special for my big five-o birthday and they included Cheryl. The three of them decided to take me to Hot Springs, Arkansas, the place of my birth, and indulge in the hot springs and spa. An ice storm arrived before we left and roads in that direction were impassable. Plan B was to head South and we chose Fredericksburg, Texas.
Robin let us use his Jeep so there would be plenty of room for four women and their luggage. With all the conversation and laughter, the trip there and back was as much fun as actually being there. The weather was bitterly cold and we finally gave in and went to Wal-Mart for long underwear to wear under our jeans. We browsed the many shops, enjoyed massages, tried the wonderful German foods and pastries, and played "Phase 10" each night in one of the hotel rooms. Cheryl and I slipped into bathing suits and knee socks and braved the cold long enough to run to Allison and Angela's room to knock on their door. I'm surprised they didn't send for the White Coats. Alarm was in their faces and they shook their heads. They do this often with us.
A picture was taken on that trip that always held special meaning for Cheryl and me. It showed only our backs, walking down the sidewalk, bundled in our winter attire. Years later, I put that picture on the back page of a scrapbook I'd made for Cheryl with the words: "Wherever the roads leads, we will travel it together". With the miles between us that might not be physically possible, but it's definitely emotionally possible and happens every day.
The next year, I traveled to Pensacola for Cheryl's big birthday. The day after I arrived we left for Biloxi, Mississippi, and spent several days in the Beau Rivage. We even managed some Yahtzee on the tiny table in the hotel room. I treated her to "River Dance", which was performing that week at our hotel. We tried our luck on the slot machines and had a ball. We found one called Pinball and we sat side by side and played and squealed each time one of us hit a pinball symbol. We didn't get rich, we didn't go for broke, either, we just had fun together. I spent the last night of that trip in Cheryl's home again, then another painful goodbye.
In 2002, we used my vacation plan to go to the Texas Hill Country and stay at a condo in Bandera. The last two trips to celebrate our turning fifty convinced us that it should become an annual event. Bandera, by far, is our favorite place to be and we have returned there often. The condo itself is spacious and beautiful with a big open loft with a sitting area and bedroom. Since we go in the winter close to our birthdays, we pretty much have the place to ourselves since it is off season. For naps, we snuggle under heavy blankets with the balcony door open so we can hear the rushing creek. And we act like two naïve city girls around all that wildlife. Each day we would escape the condo in our pajamas and watch the deer grazing on the lawns. One night my headlights caught the brief glimpse of a jackrabbit. The area is so serene perched on a hill and the perfect location for pajama days.
Since this one time a year is usually the only time we see each other, Cheryl and I love pajama days. We buy groceries shortly after we arrive, then there's no need to leave the condo for days. Or get dressed and do hair and makeup. We talk endlessly, play Yahtzee haphazardly - talking or laughing so hard that we forgot whose turn it was - and literally putting all diets on hold for a solid week. It's a glorious time of total relaxation.
This first trip to Bandera found us in the condo complex all by ourselves. We were up late playing games when we heard a door open in the lobby below. Since it was long past check-in time, we were concerned. Cheryl decided to investigate. There was a large gap under our door and Cheryl knelt there and peered under it. We hear, "hello, there". Cheryl jumped up in shock and I immediately crossed my legs because I was laughing so hard. A couple who had made arrangements with the front desk to check in late, had seen Cheryl's eyeball staring at them from under the door. The next day we both peered under the door while the other stood in the lobby to see how it looked. It produced wails of laughter and damp underwear. We still burst into gales of laughter when we remember that incident and how it looked.
In 2003, we used my vacation plan again and stayed in a condo in Galveston. Again, it was off season, but noise was a factor since we stayed on Seawall Boulevard. Traffic could be heard at all hours of the day and night from our two bedrooms upstairs. Definitely not the peace and solitude we had enjoyed in Bandera, but we had our week together and weren't about to let anything interfere. We went from watching deer, to watching police close down sections of Seawall to investigate an SUV. Cheryl and I stood on our darkened balcony and watched as police drew their guns as they approached the back of the SUV and opened it. We never learned what was going on, and sometime later the street was open and the traffic continued.
Our trip in 2004 was spent in a log cabin on Lake Palestine. We used the bedroom downstairs with its adjoining bath as a dressing room and storage area for our clothes and luggage. The loft upstairs had two full beds with a small window and lamb between the beds. From the window, all that could be seen were pine trees and more cabins. It was a beautiful area, even if the kitchen and living room were a bit cramped. Our favorite memory of the cabin is the delicious naps we'd take with the rain pounding the tin roof. Our worst memory, but one we still laugh over, was the snoring we heard in the adjoining cabin. We'd try to sleep, then burst into laughter. Fortunately, those guests were only there for the weekend.
The past three years we have returned to Bandera for the beauty and peacefulness it provides. On one such trip, my battery died while in town having dinner late one night. I asked a gas station attendant if there was a mechanic on duty. He stared at me. I then asked if there was a taxi service in Bandera. He stared at me again. I knew why after seeing the population sign: 99. Fortunately, a biker came along, jumped my battery, and we were able to drive back to the condo. The next day, I wanted to keep the car running awhile to recharge so I could get into town and buy a battery. Cheryl and I threw our ponchos over our pajamas and walked to the parking lot. We sat in my car, laughing over how we looked, and gave the battery a chance to charge.
One of my favorite trips to Bandera was in 2006, when I planned to give Cheryl a scrapbook for her birthday. I'd finished it a good three months before our trip and the suspense was killing us both. Cheryl had no idea what the gift was, but I assured her it was perfect for her. We got our luggage out of the car and carried them up three floors. We'd been given a condo with a different floor plan and it was murder when the time came to load, unload, and carry groceries up those stairs. Once the trunk was empty, we headed for Piggly Wiggly to buy everything that wasn't good for us. After the groceries were put away and coffee made, we pulled out our gifts sacks.
I opened my birthday present first and was surprised to find a scrapbook that I could put together for my grandchildren, a collection of embellishments, and several scrapbooking tools. Again, our thinking had been along the same lines. Cheryl knew I wanted to do a scrapbook of my grandchildren and she had included many of the things I'd need, such as Christmas and birthday decorations, even a little punch that makes tiny baby feet. She was equally shocked when she opened her scrapbook that had our friendship in pictures, journaling, poems, and tributes. She began to cry and called me a dirty name, but said it with affection. She spent so much time going through the book, taking note of every flower or bow, the M&M stickers, the slot machine, even an eyeball and a little sign that read "I spy with my little eye" on the page about her Sherlock Holmes episode. She told me no one had ever put that much time into something for her. I'm proud to be the one who had.
Our last trip to Bandera was in January of this year. Cheryl told me it's the first time she has seen me so totally relaxed. I wasn't up cleaning the kitchen or doing hair or worrying about anything. As a matter of fact, Cheryl broke down and washed her hair before I did. But, as is usually the case, I was the first to shave my legs. Cheryl just packs ribbons and bows for hers. And, we awoke one morning to realize we were in such a relaxed mode that we had left cheese, crackers, and lunch meat on the counter overnight.
For this trip, I packed a red velour jacket to wear over my pajamas for warmth. We love to play our games with the balcony door opened so we can hear the creek, but it does get cold in the condo. Cheryl was studying me and finally said, "I can tell we're nearing the end of our week together because I'm so sick of seeing you in that red thing!" That's my buddy.
Just as our trips begin with a squeal at the corner, the drive home has become pretty predicable too.
"I can't believe our week is over," Cheryl always says. "It went too fast. I'm not ready for it to end. I feel such a letdown."
"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened," I tell her.
"Oh, shut up," she snaps.
