Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Wall art festoons the exterior of Rocket Cat, a coffee shop in Elder Daughter’s neighborhood.
I’m back at Chez Elisson, enjoying the company of not just one, but both of my charming and lovely daughters.
The Mistress of Sarcasm and I left New York Saturday morning, stopping in Philadelphia to pick up Elder Daughter. We then pounded down the Interstate (and a few non-Interstate four-lanes) all the way to Atlanta in a single shot, with the Mistress driving every single mile. Yowza!
We took the scenic route, bypassing Baltimore and avoiding the entire DeeCee area. Instead, we cut through the tip of West Virginia near Harper’s Ferry and rode along the Shenandoah Valley on Interstate 81. It’s a pretty enough route any time of year, with tall hills flanking the highway. When I drove it last, in mid-October, the trees were aflame with their changing colors, and this time the redbuds displayed their pink-purple blossoms. Not even the intermittent rainshowers could dampen their beauty.
It was good to be home. In my absence, the cherry trees had thrown their blossoms and popped out their tender new leaves; the Japanese maples, just budding when I left, were now in their summer clothes. Even the azaleas were in full bloom, two weeks earlier than usual.
Atlanta in the spring. It’ll bring out the poetry in your soul... and the mucus in your nose.