Currently, I’ve been rewriting my humorous memoir, A Dead Tomato Plant and a Paycheck, in preparation for releasing a new version with a new cover and professional formatting.
When I first published the book, I formatted it myself, which was a mistake as I’m not tech savvy enough to do that properly. The cover is nice, but not quite right, either. I put the first draft together with a professional designer putting some finishing touches on it. It’s an okay cover, but not a great one, and now a pro is designing a whole new cover.
While working today, I came to the following section and was surprised. This piece is more serious than many of the others that were compiled from the humor column I wrote for many years, and I’m still debating about whether it should stay in the book. After you read this, let me know what you think. There are a few other pieces that are on the philosophical side, so it’s not like this would stand out as almost an “oops,” but I am wanting to cut the book’s wordcount. It’s currently slightly over 77,000 words, and it would be nice to get it down closer to 70,000.
Read on and enjoy…
Most of us have a misconception about what it means to take a vacation. We think in terms of going and doing — a trip to Europe, a resort in the mountains, a weekend at Disneyworld. Not that there’s anything wrong with those activities. I’d kill for an opportunity for any of the above. But they should be called what they are, recreation.
In the strictest sense of the word, a vacation is a time of respite, an intermission, a scheduled period during which activity or work is suspended. Recreation can be a part of vacation. In fact, it’s a lot more fun that way, but recreation alone doesn’t do as much to ease the tensions in a family that has been tripping over each other for the past year or so.
I learned this important lessen the year we took a short vacation, and came back with some distinct differences in how we treated each other. Not in a dramatic way, mind you. Anjanette, who was sixteen at the time, still bossed the younger kids too much, and they all continued to squabble over whose turn it was to do the dishes. But those instances were not as frequent as they had been and they dissipated quickly after the initial flare-up.
When we first planned this vacation, I wasn’t really expecting much of an impact. A simple trip to visit friends in Houston and a day on the beach in Galveston didn’t seem to offer a great deal of excitement, which is probably why the therapeutic effect came as such a delightful surprise.
As we splashed through the waves and scavenged the beach for shells, something happened to us. Slowly throughout the day, we started seeing each other differently, talking to each other differently, and all the accumulated grievances that had been straining our relationship were swept away on the balmy sea breeze.
Well, maybe not all of them. Michael did have to bring up the fact that David had blamed him for stealing the chocolate pie those many years ago, but we ignored him.
What made it all work, I think, was first being removed from our usual environment where roles are clearly defined, and we all tend to take each other for granted. On the beach we were able to enjoy new aspects of each other as people and the discoveries were wonderful.
The other key factor was the simple act of playing. Being so far removed from a childhood devoted to hours of such activity, I’d forgotten how wonderfully refreshing it could be. Not to mention the special bonding that came out of all our laughing and splashing together.
I realize this is not a new outstanding concept I’ve discovered here. Play therapy has been around for a long time, but participation is what makes a concept concrete. It behooves parents to take time to simply play with their children. Some people think quality time is sharing a movie or a video game, but those just distract us from the kind of interaction that helps us discover the beauty in each other that we did on that Galveston beach.
That’s all from me folks. I do hope you have a wonderful weekend. Be safe Be happy.