Stuff I Do Besides Crying

I read a title on a book about writing memoirs that said something like Make it Bleed, but I did not buy it, because I already have a collection about writing memoirs and that day in the bookstore my TBR pile was smacking my wrist every time I picked up a book. This rarely happens to me, but on that occasion the other members of my family all bought books and I did not. I have seen this concept before: you have to bleed in public to write compelling stuff.

It seems like I may be painting myself into a corner of sadness if I always write about sadness, so here are a few other things I did surrounding the coffee shop of the tears monsoon experience.

First, a bit of context. My husband is a travel nurse, if you didn’t know. He only works for one hospital system, all in Pennsylvania, except for once he went to western Maryland, but that is basically Pennsylvania. He works ER positions, has done that for 14 years, except for a brief stint of madness in ICU that coincided with the Covid years. He loves ER nursing, the drama and the feeling that you never know what challenging case will come in those doors next. The travel thing he does for the pay. Now you know. It doesn’t really matter whether you are saving a dying person close to home or three hours away. Assignments are usually three months long, three shifts a week, and a lot of driving. Yes, he comes home, usually for four days, sometimes for a week before the next stretch of shifts. He mostly arranges lodging outside of hotels, and for this current assignment in the charming town of Wellsboro, there is a rental for travel nurses less than a block from the hospital. The hospital itself has a row of rocking chairs at the ER entrance. It’s not quite Cracker Barrel, but the atmosphere is smalltown calm.

As he was the only one using the house for a stretch of days last week, we all decided to go along and explore the region while he put in two shifts and then we spent a third day all together. We have wanted to do that for ages, but there were three kids who had to take off work, so it was fun that the stars aligned at last in such a beautiful place at such a lovely time of the year.

We were blessed with perfect springtime weather. The first day was a bit chilly, but we spent it walking the town, checking out the local shops and the traincar diner. Our favorite was the famous Pop’s Culture shop, a store dedicated to board games with a play room full of tables in the back and shelves with hundreds of games you can try out before you buy them. Did you know there is a beautiful boards game about weather, called Petrichor? There is a board game for pretty much any niche you can imagine, and the owner at Pop’s can tell you about the rules for play. He knows them all, it seems. The girls split the cost of a Wyrmspan game, and I bought one on the bargain shelf called Fumbling Ferrets that I want to play with other word nerds.

Greg had his fly fishing gear along, so I took him to Pine Creek to fish while the girls figured out their new game. This is the creek that runs through the Grand Canyon of PA. After I dropped him off at the canyon floor, I took a road with a steep and winding ascent to the rim. It was a view that took my breath and made my knees feel a little weak. It felt like I shouldn’t take my eyes off the sheer drop-offs or I might inadvertently go over the edge somehow, despite the safety railing. I always get these intrusive thoughts on high places, but this is not the sort of topography we typically have in our great state. I didn’t stay long by myself. If I did somehow get sucked over the edge, who would know what happened to me?

Greg didn’t fish for long, because the water was high. We stopped at the grocery store on the way back into town and picked up a rotisserie chicken, some bagged salads, and breakfast supplies. One of the things about my children at this stage is that they can deal with a bit of hunger or go buy themselves something. Another thing is that they all like breakfast foods at any time of the day. Cold cereal, anybody? It makes my life so easy compared to the days when they were literally starving if mealtime erred on the side of being late.

On our second day it was warm and sunny. We decided to hike down to the canyon floor from the top. It was a beautiful hike through woods where spring was just starting to emerge. There were rivulets across the path and a precipitous spring-fed stream that paralleled our descent. The hike was a mile, most of it steep, with the last bit all steps. Easy-peasy, except have you ever done a flight of steps that long? Have you ever had your knees tremble and wish to stop, but you are only about a hundred steps from the bottom, give or take a few? We splayed on the grass at the bottom, beside the bike trail and soaked in the sunshine. We took a picture.

My children are old enough to know better, but none of them carried water because Mom had some. I had a backpack with the usual Mom stuff, but I had taken out the trail mix at the car because it was too heavy and they can deal. I rationed my water and doled out the energy shots I had along before we resumed our hike. When I thought about that mile straight up the mountain, and my knees which have given me much grief in the past, the flat rail trail looked quite appealing. I had zero cell service, but a group of bikers told me it was a few miles to the next trail parking area. Olivia, Addy and I decided to walk out that way while Greg and Rita sprinted up the mountain to get our vehicle and meet us. The sun was soft on our backs, and so was the breeze. It was gorgeous. We walked, them barefooted, carrying their shoes, and me in my barefoot shoes. We walked and we walked, occasionally passed up by people on E-bikes whizzing along. Eventually I got enough service to see that we were about halfway to our destination. We refilled my water bottle at a mountain spring, right beside the sign that warned us that the water has not been tested for safety.

I got a text from Rita, “We’re here! Are you about here?” I estimated we had another mile, so no. We walked and we walked, and I estimated we had another half mile. Addy was questioning her choice to walk with me, but I was still enjoying the day, the scenery, the air. We did get there, and discovered that we had walked 3.5 miles. Not too shabby after the other mile straight down the mountain, especially considering our winter-shaped bodies.

We fixed all our troubles at the taqueria in town, accepted the blessing of the waiter, and went back to the house for games and tea and later- you guessed it- cereal.

The next morning I woke early for my coffee shop quest. My soleus muscles screamed at me as I was getting dressed. Yeah, I definitely should have done some stretches before that hike. They kept screaming most of the day, but I ignored them and walked anyway. I walked just slowly, but I did walk all over the town again. Gabe was with us, and showed us the outfitter’s stores on the main street. There were clearance racks! There were displays of drool-worthy gear. I bought myself one indulgence, a hot pink Opinel pocket knife. Also a kitchen timer and some fridge magnets, if you must know. I did not buy books.

The sun continued to shine on us when we stopped at the Pennsylvania Lumber Museum on our way home. By that time I was just a notch away from hobbling. My muscles needed a sleep, they said. But the museum was very interesting, especially for Gabe who was fresh as a daisy, and Greg who works out and has leg days. We girls faded away to corners with seats until they were done. Again I insisted on a group picture, because that is my job.

Our concluding stop was at a hilarious diner in Coudersport where they serve excellent fish sandwiches and sell Trump merch right alongside gallon jars of pickled peppers and mayo.

That was when the storm blew in, and we drove the rest of the way home in a pouring rain. The post-vacation throw-up inside the kitchen door was impressive, but again, teenagers for the win. They put it all away, they washed the laundry, they cleaned up the vehicle.

Good times, friends. Good times.