Sometimes it's hard to break away

My primary purpose this Spring Break is to distract myself from the ongoing situation at my beloved place of employment, and I use situation because I'm trying to avoid more descriptive phrases that require unwieldy words like apocalyptic and abandonment and thumbscrew-inspired decisions-making. 

But it's hard to avoid thinking about the situation when my inbox contains yet another email from a valued colleague announcing a move to a job in the private sector after 25 years of teaching, plus an outstanding student's request for a letter of recommendation so he can transfer his skills, intelligence, and passion to a different institution. Even at church I couldn't escape the situation. A congregant asked me questions about opportunities for a young relative to study in a particular program, and I had to work very hard to tactfully avoid speculation about whether that program will be fully staffed in the near future.

So I had to get away. My all-over-Ohio excursion was nearly thwarted 90 minutes into the trip when my tax person texted to let me know she needed a particular form signed by me and my husband right away. I sat in a Wal-Mart parking lot in nowheresville, Ohio, texting with a tax person who at first could not understand why I wasn't willing to drive back home to print the forms, find my husband, get his signature, scan the form, and send it back, and then after she agreed to send a version that could be signed online, she couldn't understand why I couldn't get my husband to sign it electronically immediately. (Because Monday is his day off and the weather was gorgeous and there's no wi-fi connection out on the tractor.)

But we worked that out without disrupting my trip too long, and then I spent a lovely day visiting an old friend, looking at overpriced hardwood desks at Amish furniture stores, visiting my  former favorite mall only to discover that many of the stores were empty, and spending a relaxing night far from home and campus and tax persons. 

Along the way I took a wrong turn and stumbled upon a boardwalk out into a wetland, and I made a note of its location so that I could head out there to see the sun rise over the wetland this morning. Except the parking area was blocked off and the boardwalk entrance was boarded up--"closed for repairs." Thwarted once again! But the weather was gorgeous (40s and sunny early, 70s and sunny later), so I found another park and took a hike through woods that will no doubt be stunning in a few weeks when the spring ephemerals start popping up. This morning it was just me and trees and woodland birds and some turkeys gobbling in the distance.

But I can't think about the situation while attending to turkeys or watching woodpeckers disassemble a tree, so the excursion was successful so far. The next leg of the journey will take me to the grandkids, and if their youthful hijinks can't distract me from the grim facts back home, nothing will.