I’m having a spa week.
Air-conditioned rooms, French Vanilla coffee, a huge bed, a rocking chair, pedicure, manicure, massage, great food and VATS of homemade Margaritas.
I get to be driven around Washington DC at night, when all the monuments are illuminated, and I get to see the Library of Congress, where MY book will be soon, too.
On Sunday, I was introduced to kettle corn, bought along the road from these guys who surely have the hottest job in the world, and not in a good way.
It was hot walking to that tent, but it was WAY hotter where they were working. Hot in a really bad way. Make me think of Biggs. A tiny, roadside version of it. But the popcorn was really great!
The DC area still has me geographically confused with all its suburbs, waterways, shores and bays and the mess of highways that always seem to lead AROUND the city but never into it. I can’t even figure out why they call the Eastern Shore the “Eastern” Shore when it actually faces West.
Driving across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge was a real adventure. There’s a story here. Ever since I was a teenager I’ve dreamed of seeing the Chesapeake Bay. One of my English teachers, a lady a adored very much for her fun lessons, had a sister living here, and she used to tell us about her visits. It sounded just like the place I would want to see.
Leslie took me to St. Michaels on afore-mentioned Eastern Shore (It’s on the WESTERN shore of that peninsula, guys!) for crab cakes and a meeting with Patti. Patti is the sweetest little thing in the world, and her paintings are quirky and cute. She loves to portrait flying pigs and fluffy owls, there’s a hint of Chagall in her images. Leslie has a number of them. The flying pigs watch me when I’m brushing my teeth in the morning… oh well.
The crab cakes though… not so much. Sorry, friends. I tried, and I was WILLING to like them, really. But… no. The raw clams though, those were awesome.
Leslie had a good time. She got to eat two crab cakes instead of one, and I left the place sort of hungry. NOT anybody’s fault, I might have gotten something else, right?
So driving back, we went down to the beach. I was afraid of the beach. In Vancouver, I nearly did not make it back to the car, the walking on the sand was so hard on my back. Sue had to help me, and I was ready to cry by the time we got back on safe ground. But here, in the heat of a Washington day, and barefoot on sand so hot it would make glass melt, I did just fine. We dipped our feet into the Chesapeake Bay!
And yes, I walked all that and back again! On my own!
Also in St. Michaels, I found a perfect setting for my new book. It’s almost as perfect as Floro was, and that’s saying something. I made Leslie (who is really very patient with me) drive me up to this pretty little hotel and walk around and through it, and I’m very happy we did that. This will surely be a part of my story!
On the way back home we stopped in Annapolis. That’s a really pretty old town. Lots of tourists, though, and, sadly, lots of tourist stuff. I wanted to go to the Naval Academy and get a t-shirt for my son, and so we did. It was HOT. Walking along those sidewalks and across the parking lot was hot hot hot.
The visitors’ center, on the other hand, was as cold as a fridge. They really know how to do A/C.
Today we are going to meet Marianne. We will visit her at her home, and there will be FIVE dogs. I wonder why so many of my friends own dogs? I don’t even like dogs, and at Jane’s house, in Ellensburg, they lay down beside me on the couch. And they are cute, I have to admit, albeit grudgingly. I think Sue’s spaniel, Cara, felt that I’m not overly fond of canines. I was polite to her, and she was polite to me, but that was it. Jane’s papillons though, they adored me. Well, not me. They adored the tomatoes I was eating. And wanted their share. So today, five big dogs. Oh well.