We drove through eight states. Ate some fabulous food. Sipped some fantastic, and not-so-fabulous coffee. Had one unforgettable dining experience. Visited with, and were amazed by young women we had last seen as little children in a girl scout troop.
We stayed at a hotel that is an aging grand dame from a bygone era. A bed-and-breakfast that was touted as the epitome of hospitality, only to be given an attic room in which the toilet was a few steps from the bed. And by that I mean that it was in the bedroom. Without a door, or a full wall for that matter. Spent two nights at an impersonal, but surprisingly comfortable hotel. Stayed another two nights at a dear friend's house with her entire extended family (I didn't want to leave).
In short, we had a road trip from which we can file away memories, and pull them out to examine and revisit for years to come. But, as they say, there is no place like home. And for us, there is no home like Raleigh. We are very glad to be back; baking, jamming, and feeding everyone again. And I hope to release this writer's block soon, and sound like myself again. Maybe when my brain is back from vacation.
Wife, mother, baker, jam maker, hug dispenser, reader.