I can say without reservations that my trip out East was a complete and perfect success. It really couldn’t have been better. I was invited to my second cousin’s wedding August 13, and knew I had to be there, even though I resist going to weddings (and funerals). The formality of weddings bothers me. But our extended family is small, and I simply had to attend.

I was also asked to play at the wedding. My sister and I grew up playing duets in church and at ceremonies. We gave numerous recitals together as burgeoning professionals. She plays flute beautifully, and we always clicked in our playing.

As the date loomed, I imagined a trip to include a visit to Mom in Bethesda, and Dad, who is up at the Cape for the summer. The wedding was to be in the Poconos, near Allentown, PA. All those locations are on the East Coast. It would be expensive to fly back and forth, so I decided to drive. And since I had just gotten my wonderful Volvo S60 T5, I was all set. But I wanted to add a special destination. Since I like hiking, I decided to drive through the Adirondacks.

My housemate is away for the summer, so I had to get a house sitter. I used Craig’s list and found one in a few days. A Japanese student who lives an hour away relished the idea of living closer to OSU in Columbus for a few weeks. Everyone won. I was a little nervous at first letting a stranger live alone in my house for two weeks, but she turned out nicely, taking good care of my garden and cats.

I left at a civilized hour, 10 AM August 4. I took lots of good music and books on tape. I was armed with AAA directions, a full tank of gas, some Red Bull for energy, a great car, and lots of excitement. The way I planned it, the brunt of the drive would take place the first day. Get it over with, was the thought. It worked. I buzzed my way across Ohio, around Cleveland, then over the huge expanse of Pennsylvania, up and up and up into New York State, then over and into the Adirondacks. The drive was supposed to take 11 hours.

I only stopped once in the first 9 hours, to get gas and have lunch. It was somewhere along Interstate 90. The line at MacDonald’s was ridiculous, but I had no choice. I didn’t pack a lunch and I was hungry. It took 40 minutes to get food. No matter. After a chicken salad (which is pretty tasty) I was on my way.

Around 7PM I stopped for dinner in Watertown, NY, just off 81. I found a nice little Italian place (the name escapes me) and settled down to read Michael Crichton’s “Prey”, while enjoying a healthy and filling meal of veal sauteed in butter and lemon, with a huge plate of broccoli on the side.

After I hit the road again, it started to dawn on me that I was further from my destination than I thought. NY state is huge, and what looked close on the map was at least 3 hours away. With the light fading and winding roads ahead, I began to panic. I had hoped to be at my destination by 10 PM. Luckily my energy was good.

After getting a bit lost, which cost me 3o minutes or so, I was on track. But the miles I put under me barely chipped away at the distance I had to go. The highway through the hills was two lane, but also nice and wide, with a generous shoulder. I began to really test the speed and handling limits of my Volvo, which is built with a sports suspension. Wow, I’m glad no deer wandered across the road. They would have been vaporized as I drove right through them.

I finally made it to Wilmington around 11PM, 10 miles past Lake Placid. I passed through Harrietstown and the Saranac lake region before driving through Lake Placid. As I drove (much slower now) through these towns, they offered cozy and comforting summer town scenery, streets lined with quaint B & B’s and bustling with revelers and happy looking humans. My summer vacation had begun.

With about two hours stopping, it took me 13 hours. I was barely tired. The Mountain Brook motel where I had reserved a room left me the key to my room in the entrance foyer. They were all asleep. It felt like coming home late; I tiptoed around. The room had knotty pine paneling, a nice cool AC and a hot shower. No phone or TV. I had some Graham crackers and milk before falling asleep reading.

Tomorrow I’ll tell about my wonderful hike alone up Blueberry Mountain.

Here is a beautiful story about compassion and spirit posted by Waiter Rant. Some of you may have seen it already, since it was posted a few weeks ago. Judging by the number of comments, this is a popular blog. Still, I couldn’t resist sharing it. I defer to this rich and moving message.

OK, I can say I felt a little patriotic today, July 4th. No, really, I’m not just saying that. Well, maybe it was just festive, but I appreciated the freedom to do what ever I wanted with today. I filled my freedom and blew it up all over the day. It was a cherry pie day from tree to table.

While sipping coffee at the crack of noon, perusing the internet, since the NYTimes can’t seem to find my house to deliver the damn paper, a friend called and said, “The cherry trees are ready to be picked, I took off the net, and the birds will get to it soon.” So I and my neighbors drove down south of town to his house, and picked juicy, sour cherries for a couple of hours, till we had gallons of cherries. This is all from one tree.

They told me I had to pit all the cherries by tonight or they would turn to mush, and then would be hard to pit. And freezing them before pitting would do the same thing. Well, I didn’t have time to pit them right away, because I was supposed to help another friend with cleaning her garden a bit.

So I drove to her house, with the two gallons of cherries in the back seat, and announced we were going to make a cherry pie, and that I needed help pitting. I made a competition with her son as to who could pit the fastest. I won, but we got 5 cups pitted, enough for a pie. The son and I went to the store together and got all the supplies for pie. There’s something pleasantly rebellious, absurd, ironic about making a pie on a hot day. But the wheels were in motion.

I assembled the pies (1.5 pies) and stuck them in the oven. While it baked, I gardened a bit. She and her son helped, but also tended to a sick puppy they have. During this time, some of her neighbors came over and gave free advice on the puppy. Finally the pies were done.

But I was late for a visit with other friends, so I left the small one with my friend, and took the larger one to dinner with other friends. The four of us sat on his deck and had grilled salmon, a nice wilted salad (appropriate for the hot day) and when it came to dessert, I invited them over for, guess what, PIE!

Off we hopped to my house, not far away. Again, we sat outside in my garden, and had sour cherry pie and French vanilla ice cream. Yum. As you may remember, only a quarter of the cherries had been pitted so far, so I bargained with one of those friends to pit some for a pie. He was speedy Gonzales, I think he likes my pie.

After dessert, we met some other friends (the same neighbors as before) for a walk to see the local fireworks, which are really the best in the city. (Clintonville is a very community oriented town within Columbus.) I live near the park where the fireworks are set off. A ten minute walk through a wooded park took us there.

The field where everybody sets their blankets is huge. We had at least a 20 foot buffer around us, but there were lots of folks there. A fun crowd, lots of sparklers, little fireworks, glow lights, glow necklaces, live music, fun. The band played Earth, Wind and Fire hits and “Play that funky music, white boy” what ever the song is. I had my sparklers in two hands, swaying to the music, wiggling around like a little kid.

Then the fireworks started. Wow. It was a great show, and at least 25 minutes long. The nice thing about local fireworks is you are closer to them, so they looked huge. I thoroughly enjoyed the show, freely emitting ooooohs and ahhhhhs. I let my mind soften to the fantastic display, drooling color, crackle, sizzle, bang.

On the walk back, everybody was a chatter, happy, fulfilled. I feel pretty proud to be able to live in a country where that much spontaneous fun is possible in one day. That’s my kind of Independence Day.

The cherries never did all get pitted.

Half hour later…I finished pitting the rest of the cherries, 13 hours after getting them. Today was a “pit”ifully perfect day!

I am just here, neither good nor bad, wrong nor right. And I am both for all time. For all my rights ard wrongs were already here. And always will be. All my pain was already here, all my joy. Likewise, all the pain and joy of others is mine, my burden, and yours. All this is OK. I am OK.

My shadows are from the universe burning, blazing, not from me.

Today I indulged time, let go of the rocks, stayed in the flow. I flowed deeper, calming the monkey mind when it reached for a rock. I flowed down to the clear water, my naked body slipping through it, becoming it, becoming more my true self.