Alone Time

Back in January, I escaped for a two-night stay in a Bed & Breakfast to regain my bearings and save my sanity. I wrote all about it back then. Let me see if I can find that link…


In it, I solemnly swear to myself to getaway at least once a week… to spend a little time on my own and make sure I maintain a sort of balance in my life. Guess whaaat? I finally did it. For the first time. Today. Months and months and months later. I got out of the tub, dried myself off, got dressed and then thought ‘hey. I should blow this joint.’ So I said to my husband who was lounging on the bed, “Hey. I’m going to go spend some time alone this morning, okay?”
He looked up from the computer he had been fixated on not moments before and with a look of bewilderment asked, “Are you okay?”

I told him I was.
And then I told him how important it was to keep promises to ourselves -no matter that the original promise was made in January and it is now the very end of October.

I drove out to where the highway and train noises were distant -where there were no traffic, no cars, and no little people eating their own boogers. I stopped driving when I was tucked far back in my grandpa’s land -the same place we’d gotten our pictures taken a few weeks ago.
The sunflowers? Dead.
The cornfield?

Also dead.
Thank goodness we took pictures when we did.
But there’s something about that field, isn’t there? There’s something about that land. I sat myself down on a big, flat sandstone and took it all in.
The air was perfect. It was crisp -just like autumn should be.

I prayed.
I prayed because it was silent and I could actually hear myself think.
I prayed because it felt so good to revel in silence and hear God speak.

I read a little, and then I pulled out my handy dandy black poetry book. I meant to finish a cowboy poem I’m started ages ago about a woman named Crafty Cate who dupes the handsome town player into marrying her.

I read all the way through it (which took some time. Turns out, I have a knack to go on and on and on AND ON) before realizing that I had already finished it.
And forgotten about it.

I’m awesome.

I ended my alone time with a quick trip into town where I got lost in Time Magazine’s special issue on organized crime. Did you know Bonnie of Bonnie & Clyde was 4′ 10″ and weighed 85 pounds?! She was also the straight-A daughter of a mason.
I got so wrapped up in the magazine that I didn’t notice a man standing next to me, asking me if I had noticed how quickly the year had passed.
“Yeah,” I nodded, hardly looking up from black and white snapshots of Jesse James and The Dalton Brothers (posthumous!).
“God Bless You,” he replied.
“Yeah,” I nodded, this time really not looking up at all.

I became engrossed in a section dedicated to the women married (or what have you) to the infamous men involved in historical organized crime. It was delicious.
Until the same man snuck up behind me and asked me what I wanted for Christmas.
“Nothing,” I said, “I’m completely happy.”
“God Bless You,” he replied.

This time, I looked up. I didn’t have the best feeling about the guy, and my reliable gut told me Alicia’s Alone Time was officially over.
I needed to get the heck outta there.

So I did.

I drove home, and I realized that while I absolutely love being a wife and I absolutely love watching little people eat their own boogers, I absolutely love having time to just be me.
I love to smell autumn while I crack the blank pages of my poetry book.
I love to watch small flocks of black birds fly in perfect time with each other.
I love to stare at the trees and wonder what they’ve seen that I haven’t.
I love to kick the dust and dream up catchy poems about cowboys who knit and old west widows who get a kick out of dressing incognito as saloon girls.

I am a wife.
I am a mother.

But before that, I was a leasha.
And I’ll always be Alicia.
Thank goodness for Saturday mornings when I can get away and reacquaint myself with her. Every time we get together, something wonderful comes of it -whether it’s learning about bullet-riddled crooks or scribbling lines that make us laugh… it’s worth the few hours away from my to-do list.

You should try it.



  1. Ahhhhh, I envy your alone time! I’ll get there, I know I will, but until then I’ll have to live vicariously through your alone time lol.

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