time it was

How lucky are we?
Maybe it isn't luck...
K and I were treated to a weekend away. It was the kindest gesture. A luxurious gift.
It was extraordinary.



We arrived at the hotel in the afternoon.
We were greeted at the car and our things were taken upstairs and we were brought through the building to the lawn - to sit and enjoy the view and champagne.
It was breathtaking.
We relaxed.
We relaxed for the first time in an awfully long time - not even mornings at the beach provide such a respite from daily trials.
Far, but not too far from home, the boys were well and happy while we were gone.
K got a call in the car and was booked for work for the following week.
I felt fine!



Our room was just up the stairs, spacious and beautifully appointed, and overlooking the fountain in the front of the house.



We went for a swim.
I had a bath.
Soft music drifted through our room as we finished the champagne.
We ate in the Library, we drifted off to sleep in a king-sized bed.
It was serene and lush and beautifully appointed.



In the morning, we drove into town for country breakfast...eggs and toast and coffee. We shopped and bought provisions for a picnic.
I got new shoes.



We bought cheese -



and bread and fruit.

We wandered through a gigantic Asian market.



K wanted this dragon for our garden.

We made our way back to the hotel and decided on cocktails on the back lawn.



And there, sitting in teak chairs, gazing silently at the rolling lawns and the trees and the mountains beyond, we saw a bear. A big, black bear.

I took a nap and K woke me for the picnic and concert nearby.
Equipped with a cashmere blanket, our bag of provisions and a flashlight, the staff sent us on a walk to the concert grounds where we heard Yo-Yo Ma play a Schumann cello concerto.




I don't have enough superlatives to describe it further.
It was exquisite.

Sunday morning, after breakfast, we, reluctantly, checked out and drove off to the north to have lunch with my boss, M, and his wife at their wonderful country home.



It was the perfect ending to a beautiful weekend.
We climbed through their old barn and admired the views and ate and laughed and drank luscious pink wine.
It wasn't even an arduous drive home.

It was a perfect weekend.