Thursday, Jul. 31, 2003 - 1:33 p.m.
Greetings,
Here are some thoughts on my recent “mini” vacation.
Nottoway Plantation is the shiznit. Seriously. Tommy and I drove through several rainstorms Saturday afternoon and arrived during the worst of them. We sat in the car; rain drumming down all around us, for 20 minutes because the only umbrella we had was small and, inconveniently, located in the trunk.
Finally, I decided not to waste any more precious rain time and so we bolted out of the car into the gift shop to check in. That process drenched us thoroughly, even with the umbrella.
Our room was on the third floor of the mansion and even as we slogged our way in, dripping wet, there were people touring around the room. It was icy cold and air-conditioned and we immediately began to shed luggage, shoes, and sopping wet clothes. (No, this entry will not get X-rated. Yet.)
The bellboy brought up some cold sherry, which we sipped out on the back gallery overlooking a courtyard. It was still pouring out and gas lamps shimmered in the distance and it was so relaxing I thought my bones might just liquefy and I’d just slide down through the railings and land in a puddle on the flagstones below. Happily.
We explored the mansion – ballroom, dining room, study, bedroom, bedroom, bedroom, tearoom, and other rooms I can’t recall right now. Most of the time we were the only two people in the room. The rain was making tours a bit far between.
Around 6 or so we popped open our bottle of Veuve Cliquot champagne and toasted our third anniversary in our wedding flutes. I lit a couple of candles, we pulled the drapes, and all was bliss.
Dinner was at the restaurant in the courtyard. It had stopped raining by then and it was twilight. I wandered through an herb garden and breathed in the scent of fresh rain and green grass.
The food was spectacular. We had the “Cajun Two Step”, a big mound of jambalaya on a bed of lucious shrimp creole. We shared a bottle of Australian Cabernet Sauvignon and some of the best damn bread pudding with whiskey sauce I’ve ever had. Oh, and the salad dressing? Best I’ve ever tasted.
Pleasantly buzzed, we made our way in the pitch dark back to the mansion. The stars were out and the crickets were chirring.
We tried to sit out on the gallery, but horrible mosquitoes decided otherwise, so we went indoors for the evening and almost finished off the bottle of champagne. Around midnight I took a splendid lavender scented bubble bath in the claw foot bathtub. By candlelight.
Decadence.
The next morning we were roused by coffee, juice and muffins before venturing downstairs for waffles and country sausage for breakfast. Then it was off the to the gift shop where we bought a print of Nottoway at night, some of the best salad dressing in the world, a magnet, and a surprise present for John and Julie.
Then we drove home in the relentless sunshine. Horribly huge grasshoppers, like the one we saw at Oak Alley, were marching across the highway. I swerved to avoid them because I really thought they were big enough to bite a retaliatory chunk out of my tire. Seriously huge bugs.
As we were traveling up the country highway, the only car in sight, we heard this muffled explosion and I thought something had run under my wheels or a rock hit the side of the car. Tom opined it was the bottle of champagne.
He was proved right a couple hours later when I opened up the soft sided cooler and saw two cans of diet vanilla Coke swimming in about an inch of champagne. Luckily there was enough left in the bottle for one glass each on our true anniversary, July 29th.
Our actual anniversary was Tuesday, our last day of “mini” vacation. We spent most of it at the zoo sitting out a terrific thunderstorm in the swamp section.
Yes, there were two rocking chairs with our names on them. And a big beer too.
We rocked, watched the rain and the alligators, and sipped beer.
Before and after the thunderstorm we wandered around and saw the white alligator up close and personal. We were the only two with him for several minutes and he was right up against the glass with his head out of water. We also saw catfish, cockroaches, a stray bunny rabbit, sea lions, baby alligators, snakes, mice, some honey bees, grasshoppers, spiders and turtles, two jaguars, a white tiger, a lion, some elephants and a flock or two of flamingoes.
I fed the ducks and turtles, bought a tee shirt and a stuffed black bear that I’m either going to name Beauregard or Barbosa (and please let me know your vote, I can’t let the poor thing go nameless for too much longer.) (Oh, and to be seriously nauseauting if he is named Beauregard, his nickname will be “Bear-regard and if his name is Barbosa, the nickname will be, yes, you guessed it, “Bear-bosa”. So “bear” that in mind when you cast your vote!)
It was a great day. And then to top it all off, after the zoo closed at 5 we drove down Magazine to Whole Foods and spent an indulgent hour or so examining practically every damn thing in there. We spent $70 on things like bath salts, incense, body lotion, soap, shampoo and a kick ass ready made dinner complete with carrot cake.
Then it was off to Crescentwood to consume the kick ass dinner, swill some Mumm champagne (and a glass each of Veuve Cliquot) and watch Poirot’s “A Mysterious Affair at Styles”.
I definitely think marriage is a *good thing*.
So that was my weekend.
Now I’m back here in the 7th circle of Hell with throat clearing secretaries and plots and backstabbing galore.
In fact, it’s really annoying me to think about work now so I’m going to go to lunch.
Until next time,
Olrun
