06 April 2012

"The waiting is the hardest part" --Tom Petty


So, this happened:

  
Funny, funny guy!  That's right, I said "funny" twice, that's how funny he was!  Among other things, he's coined the phrase "doodle mud" for the orange cheese doodle dust that gets all over you and everything you touch.  Okay, it doesn't sound that funny when I say it but trust, it was.

And, last month we went to the rather famous Inn at Little Washington in Washington, VA (yeah, that's really a place) for my birthday dinner. 

Gotta love a place with a Monkey Bar!

This apple tart was ssssssssssooooooo good.

Lot's of lovely little surprises like this takeaway box in the shape of the inn with yummy treats inside.


I'd been hearing about the Inn at Little Washington for years as it routinely makes the top of dining critic lists.  Hubs worked it all out well in advance and on the day he insisted we leave early so we'd have plenty of time to get through rush hour traffic and unwind before dinner at the Gay Street Inn, where he'd booked us for the night.  We got there about three hours before dinner to this charming inn in the mountains.  Perfect!   

Except Hubs then realized he'd left his suit hanging in our bedroom.  ARGGGGGGHHH!  There was no way we could go home, grab the suit, and head back in time for dinner. 

What to do?!

The gracious innkeeper offered Hubs any of his own jackets but they were too big. 

Closest shopping?  Back in Warrenton... about half an hour away.  Oh, yes, that's exactly what we did.  We played beat the clock.  And at a Pebbles, no less.

I'd never been to a Pebbles before.  Seems to be on par with Kohl's.  But not quite so luxurious. 

Pebbles was on "mountain time".  I'm not talking about the clocks, I'm talking about the clerks.  We could have been one of those special effects films where the clerks are the people who appear to be standing perfectly still while we are moving so fast we are nothing but blurs.

Particularly bizarre moment (PBM) #1:

Me to male clerk who knows we're in a tremendous hurry because we've told him this no less than six times:  He's going to take that shirt but it's got wrinkles.  Would you have a steamer by any chance?
Male Clerk:  Yes, we have a steamer.
Me:  Could we use it?
Male Clerk:  Sure!  I was going to mention that.  We have a steamer in the back.
Hubs:  How long would that take?
Male Clerk:  45 minutes.  It takes a while to heat up.

45 minutes?!!! Are you freakin' kidding me?! Apparently, no, he was not freakin' kidding us.  Did it run on firewood?  We opted not to have him fire up the steamer.

PBM #2, in which smoke comes out of our ears:

Us:  We're in a rush.
Female Clerk, moving slower than a zombie:  Did you find everything you were looking for?
Hubs, quickly sliding clothes forward:  Yes, thanks.  Just this.
Female Clerk, sssssslowly rings up the three items and then pauses, says: You know, if you want to buy one more item, I can give you this shirt for only a dollar.
Me/Hubs in unison:  No, just this.  We're really in a rush.
Female Clerk:  Would you like to apply for a frequent shopper card?
ME/Hubs:  NO!  Thanks, just this.
Female Clerk:  If you sign up today, you're eligible for three free magazines...
Hubs:  The LAST thing I want is free magazines.  There's a reason they're free, you know.
Female Clerk:  Well, if you're sure...

We wanted to strangle both of them.  We grabbed the purchased clothes and headed back to Washington.  We called the innkeeper on the way and he had an ironing board, iron, and starch ready and waiting for us, bless him.  HE wasn't on mountain time.

That's when we popped the champagne Hubs had specially ordered and the celebration began.  By the way, I recommend HIGHLY both the Gay Street Inn and the Inn at Little Washington.  Fantastic! Both exceeded my rather ridiculously high expectations.  Go!  Just don't stop at the Warrenton Pebbles no matter what.

Meanwhile in other birthday news:  The folks at job #2 got me a cake and put a candle in it and sang happy birthday to me!  I was touched!  (In the good way. [Wait, that didn't come out right either.])  It's been a long time since any workmates bothered to do that for me.  Which leads to the question of the day:  Would you rather have your birthday acknowledged by workmates or not?