I had the opportunity to get out of Dodge this weekend, so here I am in northern Virginia
babysitting my grand dog. In spite of the on again, off again showers I’ve managed to spend the vast majority of the past few days outside. Thank God for screened-in porches. I got to eat all my meals, worked, and read outside. Now this is living. The only thing I couldn’t do was walk barefoot in the grass. There is no grass: yet. Another thing I haven’t been able to do in a long time is sleep with the windows open. I guess the hotel is afraid someone will jump, or else dump something nasty on passersby because our windows don’t open. I can understand. I’ve thought about doing that myself. I consider it every time the drunken motorcycle dorks who frequent the bar below us decide to rev their engines under my window.
My grand dog has a wicked sense of humor. She’s used to getting a 45 minute walk at night. The first night I took her by myself she decided to change course on me from the
one her mother used the night before. I have no idea where I am. I’m running behind her yelling, “I hope you know where you’re going, because I don’t.” She’s looking back at me and I swear she said,“Grandma, try to keep up will you.” The route she chose was mostly uphill. This after a full meal; mine. The way back had to be downhill, I thought. Yup, and steep. She took it at a full clip too. The next morning I could barely walk; my hips hurt so
bad.
Another thing I got to do this weekend was cook. Boy, have I missed cooking for myself living in a hotel. Trouble was, I was in someone else’s home with a larder that wasn’t mine. If you can believe it, everything in my daughter’s house is fat free. (Except for the
leftover pieces of cheese and pepperoni pizza I found in the fridge.) They’re both disciplined runners. I guess the pizza was for carbing up.
I’ve also enjoyed using the ceiling fan in my room, letting it strafe my body with gentle
breezes while I sleep. My body has been long overdue for a good strafing.
With so many trees surrounding the house and neighborhood there are birds aplenty singing and chirping away. I never realized some birds sing all night. Oh, happy day. I’m
really gonna miss this place when I have to leave in the morning to go back to Richmond.
This is such a vast improvement over the previous weekend at the hotel. Last Thursday
afternoon a couple checked in and immediately started to… you know. They apparently didn’t realize how thin the walls are. Usually it’s the woman I hear moaning. This time it was the man. And, he was loud. From the quality of his moans, I’d say he’d had a dry spell for quite some time. I named him Moaning Monty. For three days and nights all they did was f—k and sneeze. It was the strangest thing. Can you imagine finding out you’re allergic to each other? They never left the bed. We don’t have room service, either. I even predicted correctly that they would call down to the front desk and ask for a late check
out. They did it right up to the last fifteen minutes. Since I knew when they were leaving, I just had to see what they looked like: very relaxed.
You just never know what the Universe has cooked up for you. I had the pleasure of
meeting a real French Master Chef and one of his former culinary students. They are now in business together. The two had such great stories to tell. I’ve always wanted a man who enjoyed cooking. We’d be a perfect match because I enjoy eating.
Well, Confidante has been promoted a second time. He really earned it too. This time he’s moved into management, which is what he does best. Who knows, next month he may be the Assistant General Manager. Good job!
babysitting my grand dog. In spite of the on again, off again showers I’ve managed to spend the vast majority of the past few days outside. Thank God for screened-in porches. I got to eat all my meals, worked, and read outside. Now this is living. The only thing I couldn’t do was walk barefoot in the grass. There is no grass: yet. Another thing I haven’t been able to do in a long time is sleep with the windows open. I guess the hotel is afraid someone will jump, or else dump something nasty on passersby because our windows don’t open. I can understand. I’ve thought about doing that myself. I consider it every time the drunken motorcycle dorks who frequent the bar below us decide to rev their engines under my window.
My grand dog has a wicked sense of humor. She’s used to getting a 45 minute walk at night. The first night I took her by myself she decided to change course on me from the
one her mother used the night before. I have no idea where I am. I’m running behind her yelling, “I hope you know where you’re going, because I don’t.” She’s looking back at me and I swear she said,“Grandma, try to keep up will you.” The route she chose was mostly uphill. This after a full meal; mine. The way back had to be downhill, I thought. Yup, and steep. She took it at a full clip too. The next morning I could barely walk; my hips hurt so
bad.
Another thing I got to do this weekend was cook. Boy, have I missed cooking for myself living in a hotel. Trouble was, I was in someone else’s home with a larder that wasn’t mine. If you can believe it, everything in my daughter’s house is fat free. (Except for the
leftover pieces of cheese and pepperoni pizza I found in the fridge.) They’re both disciplined runners. I guess the pizza was for carbing up.
I’ve also enjoyed using the ceiling fan in my room, letting it strafe my body with gentle
breezes while I sleep. My body has been long overdue for a good strafing.
With so many trees surrounding the house and neighborhood there are birds aplenty singing and chirping away. I never realized some birds sing all night. Oh, happy day. I’m
really gonna miss this place when I have to leave in the morning to go back to Richmond.
This is such a vast improvement over the previous weekend at the hotel. Last Thursday
afternoon a couple checked in and immediately started to… you know. They apparently didn’t realize how thin the walls are. Usually it’s the woman I hear moaning. This time it was the man. And, he was loud. From the quality of his moans, I’d say he’d had a dry spell for quite some time. I named him Moaning Monty. For three days and nights all they did was f—k and sneeze. It was the strangest thing. Can you imagine finding out you’re allergic to each other? They never left the bed. We don’t have room service, either. I even predicted correctly that they would call down to the front desk and ask for a late check
out. They did it right up to the last fifteen minutes. Since I knew when they were leaving, I just had to see what they looked like: very relaxed.
You just never know what the Universe has cooked up for you. I had the pleasure of
meeting a real French Master Chef and one of his former culinary students. They are now in business together. The two had such great stories to tell. I’ve always wanted a man who enjoyed cooking. We’d be a perfect match because I enjoy eating.
Well, Confidante has been promoted a second time. He really earned it too. This time he’s moved into management, which is what he does best. Who knows, next month he may be the Assistant General Manager. Good job!