I promised the
rental agent I would not be high maintenance once I arrived–too bad I was
unable to keep my promise.
During the online
reservation process, I experienced technical difficulties. After two days
volleying instant messages back and forth, and playing answering machine phone
tag, we finally had a completed reservation. I’m sure the technical
difficulties were user error. They almost always are when they
pop up on my screen. And being under a time crunch didn’t help.
You see, last year
when it was time to place requests for our 2015 annual leave, I was still
grieving Daddy’s death. I didn’t want to
do anything or go anywhere. As a result, I never got around to placing my
requests. In fact, the year was almost up, and I was in “use or lose”
status: use 2.5 weeks by the end of November, or I
would lose the time. There are ways
around it—the possibility of obtaining a waiver to allow you to take the time
later in the year, or even to roll the time over to the next year, but the
process is a hassle and your request can be denied. I already give them way too much free time,
so I started looking for places to go.
My plan was to
find an out of the way cabin or beach house that had internet access. I would
use part of the time to travel, see Mama and other relatives, and possibly
attend a couple of the away games of my Alma Mater (that didn’t happen) with a
week of rest, relaxation, and writing. My time off coincided with NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing
Month) so maybe I would finish the stalled novel. Or at least work out some
major plot points. In preparation, I had purchased a new lap top, and taken an
online creative writing course. There really would be no excuses. I should at
least get a large chunk of the writing done. What I needed was a quiet place,
with few distractions. A Jacuzzi bathtub and an outdoor hot tub would be
nice—as would a fire pit or fireplace—even though I know nothing about building
fires. My needs were modest. My wants
less so.
I started looking
at different options as diverse as a solar powered shack in the middle of 80
west Texas acres. That was definitely out of the way. But maybe a little too
remote since it would just be Bandit (my 10-year old Chinese Crested), Moggy
(my 1-year old Domestic Short Hair rescue kitty), and tech-challenged but
highly imaginative yours truly. Although, come to think of it, the remoteness
combined with my overly active imagination could result in some highly
suspenseful scenes if my Cozy-turned-straight Mystery-turned Romance-turned-Suspense-returned
to Cozy, returns once again to Suspense. It would be a major step forward for
me if I could just nail down the genre. I chickened out of total seclusion.
Then I found a
renovated narrow gauge railcar in New Mexico—complete with a claw-foot soaker
tub with a view. Soaker tubs have higher backs, and may also be called slipper
tubs. The only thing wrong with this rental was the fact that the outdoor hot
tub was not private. I guess that means it was not quite remote enough. I
needed something in between the secluded solar shack and the relaxing railcar.
I revisited some
of the more memorable places I’ve vacationed recently, cabins in Ruidoso and
Oregon, condos on the beach in Navarre, a yurt in Hot Springs. Humm…maybe
another visit to the yurt. I checked, and it was booked. So I looked at a
couple of really cool places in Hot Springs. One of the places was a renovated
garage. Another was a quaint attic apartment. Neither panned out. Then I
decided to try eastern cabins and stumbled on to a site where each of their
cabins were dog friendly, and six were also cat friendly. During this process I
found out the reason many places are not cat-friendly, is because of the
dander.
Because I am me,
and love the planning process, I made charts comparing all the amenities, cost,
and availability of the six cat-friendly cabins. Finally I settled on Laurel
Knoll. I went to make the reservation, and hit major snags with the process. After
two days of phone tags and volleys of instant messages, my last comment to the
rental agent was my promise to not be high maintenance.
I stayed in a
nearby town the night before check-in which was 3pm or later. No exceptions. It
was a good thing because the night before, the weather turned rainy and cold
and I realized my clogs were at home and the only shoes I had with me were the
flip-flops I wore. As I took Bandit out to potty that night, I noticed a SAS
(San Antonio Shoemakers) in the small strip mall next door. SAS is the only
place I can find wide and double-wide shoes in stock. The next morning I stopped in and bought the
most expensive pair of shoes I have ever worn, and a pair of socks. I was ready
to drive the final hour to the cabin.
The driving instructions
to the cabin told me to turn off my GPS when I arrived in Ellijay, the small
town near my cabin. I dutifully did as instructed, and ended up driving in
circles. Either this was another case of user
error, or the instructions were not clearly written. Since I never found
the road they listed (I ended finding the second street off of Main Street in
the historical downtown), I am thinking perhaps it was not entirely me that was
at fault. Before I stumbled onto the second street in the directions, I almost
broke down and called the office. But I had promised. I was not going to be high maintenance. The
third time I made the same loop, I realized I would have to call before the
office closed, and it was getting close. I decided to make one more attempt on
the road I was on, and then I found the place the road dead ended into a cross
street. The instructions said it might not have a sign. The cross-street didn’t
have a sign (this was good), but it was also a divided highway (this was not
good). However, as often happens when I take a scenic tour before I came to a
turn-around, I found something interesting—a sign pointing to the next turn in
my directions. Somehow, against all odds, reading directions that did not name
streets correctly, I had lucked onto the correct street!
I continued on,
looking for the Emergency Response Building that was a landmark mentioned in the
driving instructions. I never saw an Emergency Response Building; however, I did find a Fire Station. Close enough.
The next named street was actually my next turn. When I came to the street where
the instructions cautioned to drive slowly, but not slower than 10 mph, and
definitely don’t stop because the grade was too steep, I laughed—this was not
bad! It must have been paved since the
instructions were written, or else what they called “gravel” in the Northern
Mountains of Georgia, is really what we call pressed tar in Texas.
I shouldn’t have
become cocky. The pressed tar road which was barely wide enough for one SUV,
let alone two, had several blind curves—on the tops of rises. It was harrowing
to say the least.
I found the steep
gravel finally. It was actually a hairpin left-hand turn into the driveway to
my cabin. I had arrived, and it was exactly as the video tour and photo
slideshow had depicted it. Laurel Knoll was picture perfect. I nearly wept with
relief.
Unfortunately, I
did weep when I attempted to extract the house key from the lock-box. It had
turned very cold and my frozen fingers were not
cooperating. Blowing on my fingers, I warmed them up and finally, I retrieved
the key and opened the door. I propped it open and unloaded the $140 of
groceries I had purchased when I hit town, the small bag with pet food and
dishes (even though the cabin furnished a dog bed, food and water dishes, and
dog treats—my kind of “pet-friendly” abode), and my overnight bag. Everything else could wait to be unloaded. The food took several trips—I had been hungry
when I shopped and bought way too much. I decided after I pottied Bandit, and set
the pet feeding station and cat litter box up, my first order of business would
be to make an early people dinner.
In preparation of
my trip I had watched several recipes on you tube. For my first meal in the
cabin I made a four cheese macaroni from scratch, green bean casserole (Mama
never made this when I was growing up and in the last few years I have become
obsessed with it), and a garlic pull
apart bread. Even though I haven’t cooked in years, it all came together at the same time. In record time. I was
feeling pretty cocky. The cockiness didn’t last long.
The next morning,
I took Bandit outside and I grabbed the remainder of my luggage from the car,
only to realize when I started back inside, I had locked myself out of the
cabin. I was wearing my robe and PJs. I had my car keys. Luckily a second copy of the rental agency
office telephone number was in my car. But my phone was locked inside the
cabin. I looked around the front porch, tried all the windows and doors even
though I knew they were all locked. Then I saw a second lockbox for the housekeeper. I tried my code, just in case. As expected, it didn’t work. My choices: drive to the rental office in my robe, or
bother a neighbor. Again, in my robe. I opted for the neighbor since I didn’t
have a clue where the office was located. When I sat in the SUV, I noticed my iPhone was
still synced. I was going to avoid anyone seeing me in my robe. I dialed the
number from the touch screen on my dash thanking Ford for overdoing the
options (there are like seven different ways to perform every function
involving the navigation, entertainment, and communication functions in my
Escape). I was too quick to believe it would work. It didn’t.
So, off to the
nearest neighbor with a car in the drive I went. I drove because the driveways
are all treacherously steep. I pulled into one and a young girl was out on the
porch in her PJs as well. She went for her Mother, who was also dressed in her
PJs. It was still pretty early. I called the agency. The phone numbers didn’t
work. But I knew they did, so I assumed they were vacationing as well and I
dialed the number as a long distance number. Success! I told the office girl what I had done and she
gave me two codes to try on the Housekeepers Lockbox. I also reported several
problems: the cabin binder had been left
on the screened porch by the last renters and it was soaked. I had found it
that morning and had it drying on the hearth, but I could not find the
instructions for the gas fireplace. Also, the microwave and kitchen light were
not working. She told me to check the fuse box but was unsure where it might
be. As for the fireplace, she told me it is activated by the thermostat. Easy
Peasy.
The second housekeeping
code worked. I found the fuse box (in the bedroom), but none of the fuses had
been tripped. I checked the GFCI and that fixed the light above the sink and the microwave. I love two-fers.
I was feeling a
little less high maintenance. Maybe medium maintenance. Until I tried to log on
to the internet. Once again, the soggy cabin binder did not appear to have the
internet instructions, so I called the office. Again. They told me what they thought it might
be and said to call again if it didn’t work. So much for my not being high
maintenance.
And making breakfast
took longer than dinner the night before. Since it didn’t come together as well
as dinner did the night before, I decided to start the prep-work for lunch
(homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese) and dinner (cauliflower bread,
roasted potatoes, leftover mac and cheese, and homemade apple turnovers). I don’t know what got into me, I never cook—yet
here I was making all my meals from scratch. On my vacation.
I finally sat down
and tried to log onto the internet after lunch. It only took three attempts
before I got the right combination of characters. All I needed to do now was make a copy of the email
with my soon to be worked on novel, and transfer it to a word document. Only, for some reason, I couldn’t make a
copy. I’m so not tech savvy. I have
no idea how to accomplish this task. So, rather than working on my novel, I’m
watching the NCIS marathon. And cooking up all the remaining food.
So far the rest of
my stay I have been the model, low-maintenance guest.
So far.
