One-Hour Vacations

By Courtney Pierce

It’s a toss-up: a pedicure or a deep tissue massage, the serious kind. Either option is a great mini-vacation to indulge myself, but a combo of the two services just might entice me to cancel a trip to Disneyworld (not that I’d ever go there anyway).

Step one on the enjoyment meter is to shut off my phone. No intruders are allowed to bust into my bubble.

Step two is to use the restroom. Avoiding any interruption once we get going is mandatory. Who wants to get off the warm massage table or pull their wrinkled feet from the bubbling water to take a pee? Not me.

If I start with the massage, I like to supply my own CD of nature sounds, gentle rain, and a thunderstorm.  It speeds up the “turn to jelly” process.  I have an outstanding masseuse here in Kalispell. He even hangs from the ceiling and uses his feet. He’ll run his heels up my back and over my shoulder blades. It’s amazing.

I'm not a gabber or gossiper when it comes to services. I like to mentally go away while I'm being pampered. Pedicures allow me to pull out my notebook and write the old-fashioned way.

The pedicure is all about tools. Pickers, clippers, and files are essential for a fulfilling

session. They get rid of all the stuff that I can't reach or even see. I rest the back of my head in silence as the chair vibrates during the leg massage. I grab the remote for the back roll and pause.

To the undulating roller, I think about my indulgence. Suddenly I feel guilty. It's not about me. I never fought, never sacrificed. We women work through lists to make sure our families have what they want and need. We have and need so much, way too much.

Here it is Memorial Day. So many soldiers sacrificed their lives for me to be able to get that pedicure and massage A spoiled girl, a privileged girl, a girl who never had to push the way our forefathers did. That's not right. I need to work harder.

In my binoculars are two adult geese with fourteen goslings. They line up in a perfect line, like little soldiers, for their trek across the lake, not a single youngin' out of place. They are in a lock-down for learning to be independent, not to do nothing and sure they will be taken care of. But maybe not. There are threats from eagles and osprey that could turn their family of eight to a family of two or three.

The geese take care of their young, with only a minimal handout for them to hunt for their

sustenance. Daddy watches. Mama herds to make sure an eagle doesn't pick off one of her precious ones. There's only so much they can do.

And there you have it. The Yin and Yang of the Memorial weekend. I hung the American flag this weekend in honor of our fallen soldiers. It flies free and so do I.

Photo: Micah Brooks

Courtney Pierce is a fiction writer living in Kalispell, Montana with her husband, stepdaughter, and their brainiac cat, Princeton. Courtney writes for the baby boomer audience. She spent 28 years as an executive in the entertainment industry and used her time in a theater seat to create stories that are filled with heart, humor, and mystery. She studied craft and storytelling at the Attic Institute and has completed the Hawthorne Fellows Program for writing and publishing. Active in the writing community, Courtney is a board member of the Northwest Independent Writers Association and on the Advisory Council of the Independent Publishing Resource Center. She is a member of Willamette Writers, Pacific Northwest Writers Association, and She Writes. The Executrix received the Library Journal Self-E recommendation seal.

Print and E-books are available through most major online retailers, including Amazon.com.

Check out all of Courtney's books: 

courtney-pierce.com and windtreepress.com 

New York Times best-selling author Karen Karbo says, "Courtney Pierce spins a madcap tale of family grudges, sisterly love, unexpected romance, mysterious mobsters and dog love. Reading Indigo Lake is like drinking champagne with a chaser of Mountain Dew. Pure Delight."

Coming in 2020!

When Aubrey Cenderon moves to Montana after the death of her father, the peace and quiet of Big Sky Country becomes complicated with a knock on the door from the sheriff. An injured grizzly bear is on the loose and must be eliminated before it kills again. The sheriff's insistence that she buy a gun for protection will present Aubrey with some serious soul-searching, because the grizzly-on-the-run is hunting for her too . . . for a different reason.