Real Relaxation

I'm pretty sure there is something wrong with me.
Once again this week I listened to a woman describing the perfect little vacation her boss had given his staff-- a Holiday-inn weekend, complete with foot massages, pedicures, manicures, pool, sauna--lots of luxuriously lounging around reading magazines and chatting idly with each other.
She sighed. I smiled and murmured something appropriate like, "How nice."
What I wanted to say was,
"How horrid" I'd sooner go to the dentist.
Since I teach school, everyone assumes I love to sit around and chat with people.
Since I'm a woman, everyone assumes I love pampering.
I don't.
What's wrong with me?
I'd sooner go for a walk, mow the lawn, or read a good book. If I really need to relax I'd much rather be with family...or even--gasp--be all alone for a day.
That's a far more blissful dream than letting a strange person mess with my feet, or paint my nails or talk about famous people in magazines...most of whom haven't done anything to be famous...except possess great looking feet and nails.

April Wheat Haiku

 
Restless April wheat 
Tosses  its thin blond tresses
In the furious wind









Stretches and surrounds,
Like curious, creeping carpet,
Crowding the village

Behold the castle!
Silent, swaying heads affirm
Their destination