Yesterday, we finally, finally achieved the correct alignment of Good Weather, Clear Calendar, and Good Health, so Steve and I lit out for the coast in the still-new Subaru.
It was snowing very lightly as we headed down Route 201 toward Augusta, and we had Classic Rewind cranked on Sirius, which turned out to be brilliant, as we were able to sing along, loudly, with Blue Oyster Cult through “Godzilla.”
In Augusta, we stopped to take on breakfast the IHOP, Which. Was. Packed. I can testify that the German lemon crepes are to die for, in case, yanno, you’re near an IHOP and in the mood for German lemon crepes.
After breakfast, we motored across the street to the BN, signed books and got the contact information for the new Events Manager (note to self: get card out of wallet). Then, we hit the road in earnest, heading straight for Belfast. It was, I will repeat, a fine day, partly cloudy, temps a thread about 40F/4C, but very windy on the water, even the nice enclosed water of Belfast Bay. I stood out and breathed in as much salt air as I could before the wind pushed me back into the car, and off we went down Route 1 through Lincolnville, and Rockport, and Camden, and Rockland, Damariscotta, Nobleboro, Waldoboro. . .
In Waldoboro, we stopped at Spacestation Circle K to use the services, and take on coffee. While we were there a young man came in, looked around and said to the clerk behind the counter, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, “Are they are the gloves you have?”
The clerk gave him a Look, and said, “Clamming gloves over there.” and pointed with her chin.
You know you live in Maine, I guess, when the gas station on the main road carries clamming gloves.
So, anyway, we turned off Route 1 to 27 and headed back to Augusta eventually, and as Fate would Have It, wound up at the IHOP again for a late lunch. (I had the Senior Tilapia-on-a-bed-of-spinach-with-a-stoopy-white-bread-garlic-slice. It was good. Except for the white bread part, which could’ve used more garlic.)
We then wended our way home via Sidney and Oakland, stopping once more to take on pizza for dinner. I read for a couple hours while Steve puttered and it was very nice and relaxing, and I. Regret. Nothing. Nothing.
Today, of course, there’s the rest of the laundry to finish, the dishes to wash, the cat bowl to clean, vacuuming to be done, and the prologue of Fifth of Five to write.
I suppose, therefore, that I’d better get busy.
Hope your weekend is going well.
Here’s your link to “Godzilla,” Blue Oyster Cult. Sing LOUD.