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change of pace
No matter how "liberated" we are, we fall into our ruts. Today is Jim's birthday, so what did I give him for a present? A change of pace — together.
Yesterday was our celebration.
We went out to breakfast. Amazing. On usual days, our wakeup routine is quiet. Him in the kitchen. Me in front of the computer. We never think to exercise our freedom to pop across the street to Panera's for a little breakfast souffle. Conversation — what a treat.
Then we shuffled off to Buffalo. Destination: the Albright-Knox Gallery, where neither of us had ever been. Buffalo is only 60 miles away but when we realized how early it still was, we veered off the highway and on to Route 33, a secondary road through all the tiny towns.
We turned a one-hour ride into a leisurely two-hour ride, enjoying the stark pre-spring landscape — snow is gone, but no green has yet appeared. The towns are picturesque, but ramshackle. I'm sure they would love to have more travelers drive through — but they'd make themselves more attractive by offering bathrooms. The "blue highway" challenge.
The museum was wonderful — nearly all modern art. Van Gogh, the Impressionists, Picasso, Braque, Pollack, Miro, Frida Kahlo... We also change our usual habit by picking up audio tour headphones. This slowed us down but gave us a richer experience.
I'm a sucker for modern art — all the scribbles and mixed media and energized brush strokes draw me right in. Literally, they give me a buzz.
After a couple hours feasting our eyes, we stopped for a Sunday buffet. Why don't we do this more? I thought as I sipped my mimosa. I get so involved in my little projects — sometimes so mentally entangled — that I forget to stop to refresh the spirit.
We drove home by another leisurely route — up to Niagara Falls (the dreary American side, now enjoying a little boom since the Indians opened a big casino there), then back east along the coast of Lake Ontario.
How relaxing. A gift to the both of us.
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