An Analog Adventure Awaits

Yesterday morning, I found myself missing the oddest thing: not having a laptop.

Let me explain. For more than thirty years, at least one morning in August has found me on the deck at my uncle’s beachfront condo in Wildwood NJ, drinking coffee and watching the sunrise. Yesterday was one of those days. I was resisting the pull of my devices, temporarily keeping at bay the emails to read, the editing to do, the blog post to write. In prayer, I let images of previous years on that deck wash over me, until I settled on a particularly fond memory: vacation mornings when my mom was still alive.

I’d rise first, slip out of our room, brew the coffee, head to the deck, pray and/or journal, then get comfortable with whatever novel I was reading at the time. Presently, the sliding door would open and there would be Mom, coffee in one hand, novel in the other. We’d talk a while, then sink into our books until the sun drove us back into the air conditioning.

Mom died in 2007, before everyone was schlepping their MacBooks to the shore, before anyone but the earliest adopters had a smartphone. Unless I brought some thinking to do, there was simply no such thing as working on vacation. What a luxury!  Although I appreciate the flexibility of my freelance existence, the danger—as I’m sure you well know—is that work-from-anywhere easily morphs into work-from-everywhere, devouring the very notion of down-time.

That’s why I’m very excited about the week ahead.

Tomorrow, Porter and I fly to Ottawa to begin a bucket-list adventure: traveling across Canada by train. Picture a sleeping compartment, dining car, observation lounge, the works!  There will be only one thing missing, I discovered as I read the fine print recently: there is no WIFI on the Canadian. I wasn’t going to be bringing my laptop anyway (in the interest of traveling light), and since international roaming is wicked expensive on my mobile plan, I’m just going to have to pass the time the old-fashioned way.

I’ll confess, I’m equal parts psyched and anxious. I’ve probably packed too many books; for months, I’ve been curating train-worthy paperback novels I can leave behind as I finish. (More, of course, are downloaded on my various book apps.) Should I choose to write instead of read, I have a notebook (the analog variety), plus I’ve saved the last several Sunday Times crossword puzzles. We have a deck of cards. There will be three meals a day, with people to meet across the table at each, and of course there’s the sleeping, but still . . . even if the train runs on time (which we are assured it will not), it’s a 96-hour, four-day journey without WIFI.

I can’t wait to tell you all about it . . . but I must! Stay tuned for stories from the far side.

May your own August days come bearing whatever graces you need.

Christine