August 16, 2011


The holiday is almost over and now we must leave Cornwall for London to catch our flight back to Montreal. I'm writing this to you as I sit on the train. A train I almost missed.

Yes, this morning the Huz and I got up early, rallied our three children to finish packing, eat a hearty breakfast, hug their Granny goodbye, and head down to the train station. No one argued and all was well in the world...

...until we got to the train station and I realized I didn't have my purse. A chill ran down my spine and grey shadows stomped around and rubbed their bogeys on my soul.

Folks, I ran. I ran like the wind, I ran like never before, I ran up hill, up the arcade stairs, up alleyways and up cobbled streets. Up, up, up I ran without stopping, past old ladies and prams with babies, my little heart pounding, blood vesseles bursting and lungs straining. I MUST NOT MISS MY TRAIN!!!

I thought of my poor family standing on the platform waiting for me as the train also waited... and then pulled away. What if they left without me? I ran harder.

Got to the house, gave SharkDOG one last hug, grabbed my purse and ran all the way back down to the station.

My family were all waiting for me! The train was still in the station! In fact, we had plenty of time to walk leisurely down the platform and climb aboard.

The lesson here? Nobody's perfect. Also? I'm not in as bad shape as I thought. They said I made it there and back in about 12 minutes.