The Ozarks

For all those that are still wondering what my surprise date was on the 3rd of February, you can stop holding your breath because I am going to tell you.

Brandon said he would not give me any clues whatsoever until Thursday of that week, so I was anxiously waiting until then. On Thursday morning, he told me that I would need two different outfits for our date on Friday night. One casual outfit for the afternoon (I got off work at two o'clock) and one dressier one for the evening. On Thursday evening, during break from class, he told me that the location of our date was four hours away by car. My mind began racing as I tried to remember the states that border Missouri on that map that I have as the background on my computer. (I asked Brandon for a big map when we moved here because I wanted to know where I am in the country, but he never got me one, so I made one be the wallpaper on my computer.) I knew that Chicago is four hours away, but that was all I could remember. I tried to sit through the rest of my counseling class and concentrate on depression, but I was way too excited. When I drove home from class and went into our bedroom, there were two suitcases on the bed. Brandon told me to fill them up because we were going away for the weekend!

I packed my bags to the gills not really knowing what to bring because I didn't know where we were going. He only told me that the weather was going to be in the 40s and that I would need a nice outfit for dinner.

All day Friday I could hardly wait for two o'clock to roll around. To make things exciting, everyone in my office was trying to guess where we might be going and making wagers that whoever was wrong had to bring in treats for the office the following week. I decided the most logical guess was the Ozarks, so I started searching bedandbreakfast.com for inns located in Branson, Missouri. I came up with a beautiful one called the Hummingbird Inn and I decided that this particular place would be our most likely destination.

When Brandon picked me up, he asked me if I knew where we were going yet and I told him as much. He said that was an interesting guess, but we would just have to see. We started heading west on interstate 44 and after about two or three hours, I finally asked if we were going to the Ozarks after all. He was laughing because he couldn't believe I not only guessed the location, but the exact inn that he chose. I told him, "I am just that good." He agreed. (He always gives me little clues and I take off with them and use my resources to guess and he still is surprised when I guess correctly!)

I thanked him and hugged him and kissed him profusely as we drove the rest of the way because the idea was just perfect. I needed a vacation! And the Branson is out in the mountains and quiet. I couldn't wait to get there.

We stopped for sushi on the way there for dinner (yum!) and pulled up to the inn at about seven forty-five. It was so beautiful, it reminded me of home. It was on a little road with no street lights a bit off the beaten path and the house was so big. You could see the lights glinting through the mass of trees as we pulled up the drive.

We walked into the reception area to check-in and the woman on duty was so excited to see us. (Apparently Brandon called two or three different times to make sure that everything was just right!) She told us that we were staying in one of their newest rooms called The Lewis and Clark Suite and that she had been waiting all evening for us to arrive because she wanted to go in the room! She had us follow her out the front door and up a set of steps leading to a private porch and a door that led to our room. She opened the door and the soft lighting of the room shed a glow on the rose petals that were scattered across the floor and on the bed and the champagne chilled and waiting for us along with chocolate covered cherries.

The room was amazing. We had our own private Jacuzzi for two and fireplace and the bed was so big. I loved my cotton sheets at home, but then I experienced one million thread count sheets at the inn and now my sensitive skin will accept nothing less!

On Saturday morning I woke up, wrapped myself in this big bear skin blanket in the room, and watched the sunrise. It was incredible. I miss the country! After that, I crawled back into the warmth of the king size bed and slept another couple of hours until there was a knock at the door and our private breakfast had arrived. I could not believe all the food for two people! Breakfast casserole and biscuits and bacon and yogurt with fruit and coffee and orange juice and milk. . . delish. I grabbed my plate and hopped back into bed to eat.

Brandon and I spent Saturday exploring Branson and the millions of Nashville-reject show posters. (Branson is like a combination of Vegas and Nashville, but we stayed outside of Branson, so it was quite quiet. Plus, it is the off-season.) Just outside of town, there is a small winery called Stonehill Winery, so we decided to go in for tasting. The first six were okay, but I think I am not sophisticated enough for a wine list of twenty different kinds!

That evening, we headed to our fine dining selection. Brandon even bought me dress and packed it so I could wear it that night! The Candlelight Inn was our choice for the evening even though we were a little wary of the neon lights blazing on top of the restaurant shining for all to see across Lake Taneycomo. It turns out, the place was actually very elegant inside and had a beautiful view of the construction site that will one day be "The Landing."

The next morning we got up and had breakfast with the rest of the commoners in the main dining room. Another fine spread of grapefruit and waffles and sausages. I didn't want to eat again until that afternoon! Sadly though, we had to leave our romantic weekend and go back to the real world by eleven, so we headed back up to our room to pack.

I had the best weekend. . .

What do you want to be when you grow up?

This morning, my mother called me, as is her daily custom, and said, "Why don't you get your teacher's certification?"

Last year, I took a position at a tiny little classical school in Delaware teaching high school Spanish, aiding in a Kindergarten class, and playing the piano for school choirs. All along through college, I had said that I never wanted to teach because I didn't think I would like it or have the patience for it. I took the job last year the Friday before school started a little out of desperation after a whole summer of fruitless job-searching.

As it turned out, I loved my job. I loved teaching. Being in a small school and doing all kinds of different jobs, I got to meet and know all of the kids in the school. And as it turns out, if I do say so myself, I wasn't a bad teacher. I was organized and I could really see the results of my hard work with these kids and their Spanish. They really did learn. My favorite class was Spanish I because those kids went from knowing no Spanish at all to being able to carry on a conversation with me. And, as cheesy as it sounds, it was so rewarding knowing that I helped them get there.

Marrying Brandon meant leaving my job at the school to move to St. Louis and I decided that I wanted to do something different because I don't have a teaching license and we wouldn't be able to live on my salary at a small private school. So I found this job at Liguori and I like it all right; however, I truly miss teaching.

My job here is mostly over the phone whereas my job at the school was face to face interaction with little kids and high schoolers. And as much as I didn't like grading papers and making up tests, the rest balanced it out. And where here, things are so structured and planned, I kind of liked being unsure and planning from moment to moment and living a little bit by the seat of my pants.

Here's the bad news. I am settled in my job here. Getting my teacher's certification would mean quitting my job here to do unpaid student teaching and certification tests. And that means no income for Brandon and I. It is not something that I could do on the side while still working here. And as much as I love teaching, it would be a major career move to do something like that. I have thought about teaching again, perhaps once we have kids and they are in school, but for now, I think I need to stay where I am. At least until Brandon is finished seminary.

I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

*Note: I am taking a counseling class this semester at the seminary and I am pretty excited about it. This explains the mountain of psychological and counseling books that will be appearing here in my entries.*