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Admit it, you look forward to these.
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And I thought our cat was spoiled. Geesh!
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New Yorkers are an inventive lot and will try to sell you almost anything. A Pier 17 rooftop? Sure, why not….
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I have never in my life wanted to play golf, until now.
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I should. I really should….
And because I’m thoughtful blogger who always thinks of her friends, you can as well.
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Cheers!
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And I don’t want to start a partisan political fight.
But I’m getting tired of people snarkily saying, “You know that’s not going to protect you.” every time I go out in public with my cloth face mask firmly in place.
Yes, I know it’s not going to protect me.… but it’s going to protect you against airborne infected droplets in case I’m asymptomatic, which apparently many of us are.
I protect you, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you protect me… and by default my older husband who has 3 major underlying health conditions that would make catching Covid 19 a possible death sentence. I’m not an alarmist, or a panicker. I’m level headed and calm, but when it comes to my husband’s life? I’m not taking chances.
I get that the economy can’t be shut down indefinitely. I understand people are suffering, and if I could trust them to protect others? I would have no problem opening businesses. But a lot of the people I know who are out there protesting in large unprotected groups have jobs they can work from home and steady incomes.
They’re just upset they can’t go out and play.
Yeah…. let that sink in.
If the Irish can stop consuming their pints in public? I think Americans can deal with a little piece of cloth if it helps save lives.
And to those who say the crisis isn’t that serious because they don’t personally know anyone who’s ill? We’re relatively lucky in Maine, we have a low contraction and death rate, but even here…. in my small rural town? I know people. Our neighbor who lives behind us has it. Our neighbor to the left’s parents have it, one severe enough to require hospitalization.
It’s here.
It’s everywhere.
As this sad picture posted by a childhood friend who lives in NYC can attest.
There are no sympathy cards because there are too many deaths. If that isn’t the definition of serious, I don’t know what is.
Rant over.
You may now return to your regularly scheduled program.
Ya gotta love New York City.
My late father worked on Wall Street and I grew up marveling at it’s magic and savoring the myriad flavors of it’s streets.
Now? My heart breaks for it’s citizens. The virus is testing them, but they’ll pull through. They’re resilient.
They’re New Yorkers.
Yes, it’s the city the never sleeps. The Big Apple. The home of Broadway, the Empire State Building and Katz’s Deli…. but what you really have to love about them right now?
This:
Yes.
The New York City Health Department is recommending masturbation.
Among other things.
As we were leaving the resort for the 12 hour plus drive home, I found this behind a door.
Clearly the previous tenants vacationed in the coat closet and didn’t want to be disturbed.
And yes, you read that correctly. This will be my last blog about the Williamsburg, Virginia vacation.
To think it only took me 60 posts to get here!
So…. it was a grey overcast morning the day we left.
And I have absolutely no idea what this was.
But here’s the Washington Monument….
And the entrance to a tunnel.
Was my husband obeying the speed limit?
No.
He never does, but when you’re riding in a rental Brontosaurus and the lanes get smaller due to construction? My blood pressure ruses when he approaches 100 mph.
I also look out the side window a lot.
Although it’s hard to focus properly at that speed.
Playing with my phone helps…
As does laughing at some slightly painful road names.
Here’s the Delaware Memorial Bridge.
And the toll ticket that cut off our George Washington Bridge exit price on the bottom.
For those of you who have never seen the New York City skyline on an overcast day from the New Jersey Turnpike at 90 mph?
Here you go.
Next up was the George Washington Bridge, where I usually close my eyes and pray to the God of Tequila that I’ll live to see another margarita.
Ironically… as soon as I started filming, the husband slowed down. Which is a good thing since the roads were potholed and in horrible shape.
Traffic was a nightmare.
But it always is.
And every time we pass these massive apartment complexes….
I realize how blessed we are to live in the country.
Was this water blowing off the top of that truck?
No. It was smoke, because something was probably on fire. When we crept up next to it and signaled the driver there was a problem?
He flipped us off.
Ya gotta love New Yorkers.
The rest of the trip was long, traffic laden and uneventful.
We were even too pooped to make our normal pit stop at the tax free New Hampshire liquor store.
Technically I took a few more…. but still.
Why is sitting in car doing absolutely nothing for 13 hours so damn tiring?
You had 2 days off in between trips… and I threw in some Bambi pics as well. Are we good?
Good!
I admit I might have gone a little overboard with the Williamsburg, Virginia vacation photos this time…. like 3,089 pics overboard.
So sue me.
It was a fabulous trip, a marvelous Christmas and a wonderful place to explore. What can I say? When I’m old and feeble I’ll enjoy looking back on them all. (If I can remember why there are so many pictures of rocks…. and who that strange man is of course.)
Time to fasten your seat belts and loosen your pants!
The trip starts now.
Okay… but fair warning, that may not be until June.
Not wanting to put the miles and wear and tear on my car, we rented one. Well, I rented one. A mid size SUV like I always do… but when we arrived at the lot, they didn’t have any and had to upgrade us to luxury.
Cool beans!
We could pick the Audi or the Infiniti.
So what did my husband pick?
The Chevy Suburban.
Which happens to be the biggest, thirstiest, most annoying lumbering behemoth vehicle ever made. A nightmare to park. A horror show for short people like me to board. A useless third row seat we didn’t need and couldn’t figure out how to fold down. Gas stations? We dreaded the mere sight of them after a few days. So why did my spouse choose it?
Because it was big.
And he’s a man.
Enough said.
Our trip from Maine started out like this:
With buckets of the same for the first few states.
When we were nearing Hartford, Connecticut it let up, but we hit road construction….
And this rather precarious way of shoring up of the highway made me cringe.
I guess I should be glad they didn’t use duct tape, but still.
Next up was my least favorite part of the trip….
New York City.
Don’t get me wrong, I was born and raised in New Jersey… I can hang. But riding shotgun with my (leadfooted, 2 centimeters from the car in front of us, switch lanes like it’s the Indy 500) husband…. in the Black Brontosaurus?
Would test Ironman’s nerves.
Though I can honestly say it’s the only time in my life I’m thankful for bumper to bumper traffic.
Reduce speed?
I don’t think that’s possible.
I’d post some great pics of our trip over the famous George Washington bridge, but the husband always takes the upper truck level…. so basically this was my view:
But here’s one peek through the fog.
After the bridge? It’s New Jersey…
And the swamps they built the Meadowlands on.
If you’ve ever wondered where Tony Soprano and his boys dumped the bodies?
It would be here.
Oil refineries aside, you have to admit that the foul, smoggy New Jersey air does make for a dramatic sky.
Onward through the evening we drove, with the husband choosing our route. If you know me…. you know I’m type A and like to plan. Letting him pick a spot for us to spend the night was torture, but I sucked it up and endured.
I endured him picking a random town in Delaware because he liked the name, Red Lion.
Did Red Lion, Delaware have any hotels you ask?
No.
It did not.
And trust me, we drove around for almost an hour trying to find one even though I Googled it and came up empty. We did however find this:
A Christmas extravaganza house that was blocking traffic.
I can barely keep 2 reindeer lit… WTH?
After admitting defeat, the husband drove another 40 minutes to Dover, Delaware and pulled into the first Holiday Inn he saw.
I had my doubts when I saw the lounge was decorated in early bordello. Yes… satin furniture and rhinestone encrusted mirrors.
Thankfully our room was toned down from that…
But it did have some interesting features.
Mainly, the lighting.
Is it me?
Or did this over the bathroom sink fixture look like deer hooves?
Come on…
There’s no reasonable Martha Stewart explanation for that.
And while this corner lamp reminded me of my mother and her pull down hair dryer of the 1960’s…..
It was these over the bed reading lamps that were a little too proctology/gynecology themed for my taste.
And don’t get me started on the art work.
Really, don’t.
What the…. what?
So ends day one.
(And before you start screaming Martin…. road trips with my husband consist of a McDonalds lunch eaten in the car doing 90 mph and a perfectly horrible turkey dinner at a Bob Evans next to the hotel late that night. Neither were photo worthy!)
River's world..... 