What is me-time?
My mother still laughs, lightly, at the term me-time,
although she now has plenty of it and doesn’t know it. We were not raised to turn the
spotlight on ourselves, and never to become self-absorbed. But it seems,
me-time, is a modern day necessity.
For some, it will be a game of golf, tennis, a stroll on the
beach or a day at the spa, for others it will be time with friends, or time
alone. We are all so unique, me-time, will be different for each of us. What is it really and how do we deal
with it when we get it, this precious resource?
This April vacation I had a very fortunate occasion. I took
my family, a husband and three young kids, to my sister’s resort, the West
Sonoma Inn, in Sonoma Valley. My
father flew from Ireland to see us all. It was great. We walked the Armstrong woods with reverence to the
sequoias, built driftwood forts at the beach at Goat Rock where the Russian
River meets the Pacific; we eat in funky cool restaurants.
A surprise! My father and sister had conspired to give a
gift to my husband and I. We were booked into a B&B in Calistoga, Napa
Valley for a night alone. We were to go and not return until the following day
where a picnic was in order at a friend’s winery.
“Really?”
“Really!” she said.
“You want to mind my kids, overnight?”
“Just go, pack some clothes.”
We waved so hard as we drove out of her driveway, I had to
hold my fingers to my lips and kiss them all goodbye. I love my sister. This
was going to be great. Things were blurry with excitement.
We drove, from Sonoma to Napa, the sun shone and made the
hills and vineyards and huge friendly trees even more beautiful. We came to the
quaint little town of Calistoga, a neat tourist town tucked into the hills and
surrounded by some name-dropping wines, castle-vineyards and mega ranches.
In our abandonment and lack of planning, we got there way
early. We had no idea where we were or what to do. I didn’t really care, I
could have sat in the car and just looked at the neat little rows of vines,
like three stick candelabras, holding hands, again and again and again. Their
buds were beginning to open and I felt like if I waited an hour, just sitting
there in the sun, I would see something miraculous. I think this was the point
where you detach from your kids, breathe deep, and realize you are whole, not
split five different ways, like a vine, but one.
We checked in. We met Ric Pielstick of Chanric Inn, he was
tall and too handsome, I couldn’t look him in the eye. He brought us in and
showed us around, everything was perfect, the kitchen an open delight for
chefs, which it turned out Ric was, a very, very, good one.
He took out a map and began to point to regions we should
visit according to our grape preference. I love wine, but have no clue about
which blend of grape I enjoy most! Did I mention I had three kids?
In trying to get a better understanding of us and in what
direction to send us, he asked, “So, what do you like,” I thought I would have
a panic attack, nobody’s ever asked me that. Well maybe they did, but I can’t
remember anything much anymore. What do I like? How would I know? I can tell
you what my daughters like, love and hate, I could tell anyone about what my
son thinks of hockey or spaghetti, but what do I like? Oh boy. Could I call a
friend?
“Maybe art, do you like art?” Ric said with a pleasant,
caring, warm, look.
“I do,” I thought of all the lovely stick figures and smiley
faces on our fridge.
“Great,” he circled Clos Pegase, described as, an
intersection of wine and art with a passionate estate-grown winemaking balanced
with an openhearted spirit of celebration.
“Great,” my husband said, asking questions and drinking in
Ric’s detailed answers.
Did you know the vineyards were mixing themes now? Good idea
right! There are historical themes, art exhibits, authentic 12th
century Tuscan, winemaking tours of all sorts, just packed with knowledge.
Hundreds of different wineries waiting to be explored. How could you choose?
“Do you like champagne?”
“I DOO,”
Bingo. He circled Mumm Napa. So it turns out I like art and
champagne. Ric was a pro, in not too long a time he pegged what we would enjoy
and to top it all off he pointed out where you could get a beer and the Bruins,
game 4! (I know we are uncultured heathens)
And that is what we did. On the drive to Mumm, my husband
explained a few things to me. It must have been obvious I was an amateur
me-time person.
“Let yourself be fussed over, feel special, enjoy, enjoy,
enjoy.”
It was the switching of the hats, so to speak. Ok I got it.
I was a queen for a day. When they
poured the wine ever so carefully into the flutes at Mumm, I could feel the
imaginary tiara on my head, when the tour guide bent to pick up a bunch of
grapes, I thought he would kiss my feet. I got a little carried away, relaxing
and enjoying and feeling special, everyone was so nice it just didn’t
stop. I was getting used to it by
the sun-kissed minute.
We slept in. We strolled to the garden for coffee. We sat in
the flower-filled patio under a shade and beside a fountain, reading the New
York Times. Ric and his partner Chan served us a breakfast of kings. It was
art/food fusion and I had never (of course) seen or tasted anything like it! In
his starched white chefs coat, Chan, presented thinly sliced mango and apple,
with proscuitto, toasted walnuts and cherries, with a little of the cherry
juice lightly topping this creation. It was fabulous. When he brought out the
soufflé, it looked like a chefs hat of spinach and cheese and I don’t know what
else but you could not feel it when you eat it, it was not a normal eating
experience, you could taste it, but not feel the smooth richness in your mouth.
Unforgettable, it was a culinary delight.
By the time we were heading back to Sonoma, my husband was
probably hoping I didn’t get to fond of the old me-time. That’s the thing, once
you’ve had some precious moments of me-time, once you surrender to the moment
and the intent of the experience, to enjoy, enjoy enjoy, that is what it
becomes, pure enjoyment. I would of course want more queen time. Thank you
Calistoga. Thank you Chanric and thank you sister for the gift of cherished
time.
If anyone wants to check out the Chanric Inn for an
experience of a lifetime, go to www.Thechanric.com
and met Ric, Chan and their funny, beautiful yellow lab, Dinagen.
