Sure, there’s the small matter of how I don’t even get to LIVE with my HUSBAND just yet, but still. The perks are amazing. Why, I just checked and the last three posts got a zillion more comments than usual. And my goodness, what comments they are! My swelled head barely fits through the doorway anymore, and tomorrow I shall sit and cry when this post doesn’t get over a hundred comments telling me how pretty I am. Heh.
Also, today I got a spammy “I love your website and want you to promote mine” email from someone who—in all seriousness, I think—addressed me as “Mrs. Otto.” That made me giggle for a long time.
Though I laughed harder when I found out someone addressed Otto as “Mr. Mir” today, too.
So what can I tell you about the little speed honeymoon we took? We headed north and stayed on an adorable little farm in the country. I highly recommend this approach if you’re hoping to be deafened by the lullaby of twelve million peepers all night long. It’s actually very soothing, provided that you don’t think too hard about what a good horror movie it would make for a couple of vacationing newlyweds to be eaten alive by tiny frogs.
We stayed in a teeny, tiny adorable little cabin. It had interesting rustic furniture and decorations (“Moose Crossing” signs and more art based on sheep than might be strictly necessary), as well as a bathroom smaller than my purse. It was lovely, actually, because it was a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere BUT the people who own it fed us breakfast every morning. So, you get that whole wilderness vibe along with magically appearing french toast and sausage.
Anyway, we got up there on Friday night, quite late, and checked in and got our key and walked along a wooden walkway where my little heels kept slipping between the slats and I envisioned a graceful faceplant with every step. (I did not wipe out, but I nearly lost a shoe.) We then checked out every facet of the cabin and giggled over our rings (“Hey! Nice ring!”) and then flopped down on the beautiful wrought iron bed.
I think Otto read that the cabins where we were staying in had originally been built in the 1880s, and I suspect the beds were installed at around that time. Look, I know that I’ve been completely spoiled by my new bed and all, but when two people can lay side-by-side on the same bed and one of those people appears to be a full foot closer to the floor than the other, you do have to wonder if PERHAPS it’s time to get a slightly more supportive mattress.
No matter. LOOOOOOVE would provide everything we needed!
The first morning Otto asked me how I slept. “Oh, you know,” I hedged. “I woke up a few times. You?”
“Tossed and turned a bunch,” he said. At which point we realized we were free to compare notes on how uncomfortable the bed was. Phew. (The second night, I lovingly coughed for several hours in a row so that neither of us would blame the bed for our sleepless night. I’m a giver.)
We went and had breakfast (which was delicious) in a sunroom overlooking the farm. We ate while watching swallows dive-bomb each other and a variety of other birds flit from the trees to the dozens of birdhouses installed around the property. Inspired by this display of nature, we headed out to walk around after we ate.
There were all of the usual creatures; in addition to the myriad birds, the pond held about a billion tadpoles, and the insect life was plentiful. We were looking for turtles, but didn’t see any. What we did see was a VERY large snake sunning itself on the small dock. It lay in a luxurious coil, and we didn’t even notice it at first. Once we did, though, I wanted to run away from the pond, because I sort of hate snakes. (No, that’s not quite right. I love snakes. When there’s something between me and them, like nice thick glass.) While I was twitching with a need to go elsewhere, Otto noticed a SECOND snake sort of draped amongst a busted-up section of the dock, and then I died.
It was then that I convinced him to move away and look for, um, other stuff! Away from the snakes!
Later that day we went driving around, exploring the mountains. That’s a really fun thing to do, except that if your head is really stuffy it will make your ears pop a lot and your husband (hee, husband!) will keep glancing at you sideways as if you have a nervous tic. Then you will realize that you are yawning and attempting to pop your ears every other second or so, and probably look like an idiot.
Neither of us brought a book to read (I couldn’t even remember socks; you think I brought a book?) so we stopped at a local bookstore and picked out some reading material.
We ate a late lunch at a restaurant near a Motel, and enjoyed the great dichotomy that is vacationing in New England: Directly behind us sat a table of Old Massachusetts Money, while across from them three bikers enjoyed burgers and onion rings before taking off again on their Harleys. I have to say, the old money family provided much more entertainment. They talked for at least fifteen minutes about some restaurant that serves lobster macaroni and cheese and how amazing it is. Somehow this sparked a discussion between Otto and me about how, really, we need to be eating more beef jerky! And SPAM! (Do not ask me how that was a logical follow-on. It just was.)
Oh! I almost forgot; our server was a young man afflicted with the imprecision of speech common to teenagers. When we entered the restaurant he asked if we wanted to sit outside “or something like that.” We exchanged glances and said that yes, we’d like to sit outside. Little did we know that he would go on to offer to get us drinks “or something like that” and later an appetizer “or something like that.” We’d already determined that if offered the “something like that” alternative to a check, we’d go for the “something” and see what he might produce, but when the fateful moment came and he did, indeed, offer our check or something like that, all that happened was that we both started laughing and our poor server was confused. It was very anti-climactic.
Later we wandered through a sprawling gift shop, one of those tourist catch-alls featuring everything from beverages and candy bars to all manner of souvenirs. “We should buy something here,” I announced to Otto when we walked in.
“Ooooookay,” he said, ever agreeable.
“I mean for our house. We should buy something here, to commemorate the weekend, as our first joint purchase for the new house.”
“Ah,” he said.
We picked our way through all kinds of stuff and I spent a considerable chunk of time pawing through a display of polished rocks shaped like hearts. (There was a key to the properties of the various stones, and after much deliberating, I picked red goldstone with its energy-channeling properties for Chickadee, and picasso jasper—said to enhance patience—for Monkey.) I suggested a number of ridiculous, kitschy items (“How about a sign shaped like a chicken that says FRESH EGGS?”) for our big purchase, but in the end the choice was clear. We are now the proud owners of a distressed wooden sign that reads “Happily Ever After.”
(Go ahead—everyone together now—“Awwwwww!”)
Hey, it was between that and a similar sign that said “Primitive Dwelling.” I hope we picked right.
Back at the cabin, we read our books out on the porch for a while, and later on we watched a movie while curled up on the ancient bed.
Another night of terrible sleep later, and it was time to eat another yummy breakfast and then go home. Before we left, we checked the pond for turtles, again (after checking to make sure that our friends the snakes were nowhere in sight). I was ready to give up when Otto spotted a baby turtle burrowing in the mud. We watched until it came out again and paddled around in the water for a bit.
I want to tell you that I would’ve stayed there forever, happily, but the truth is that I believe in Providence, and as such I believe that crappy bed was someone’s way of making sure that it wouldn’t be TOO hard to leave when the time came. As much as I wish that Otto could’ve stayed longer, I’m delighted to be back in my own bed.
But I’m looking forward to having a place to hang up our new sign.