Yes Virginia, there really is a Beach

Lynn & I graciously agreed to shop our way to DC/Virginia Beach so the guys could ride their Harleys, arn't we the bomb? We googled "local scrapbook stores" and away we went! I only ran out of gas once, on the uphill climb of a mountain in West Virginia, and oh, did I mention the trucker who stopped to help? And then the state trooper who stopped to help? And then the DOT guy who helped? After that, we were pretty good to go except for the stop sign I blew through as we exited the highway. God-speed, that's what we had. My macho Harley man explains it this way: "My dear wife, Kay, is a good Godly woman, who prayed that God would allow her to go 600 miles on a tank of gas instead of 300." That's faith, baby.

It was good to hang with the Brandt-ster and Sara B. Did you know that a person is actually capable of holding their breath on the drive through the entire 11-mile under-water tunnel into and out of VA Beach? I think it has something to do with eating fresh seafood, like as in OMG good seafood. VA Beach is pretty fab, by the way. Everyone rents a Schwinn and bikes up and down the boardwalk, ringing their birdie bike bell on their handle-bars, carrying cute doggies in their bike baskets, or riding tandem bikes and 4-people canopy bikes. Get the picture? It's called v-a-c-a-t-i-o-n and I LOVED it!

A stop in Williamsburg means Salmon Salad and Blueberry Pie (to die for). But I think it also means a step back in time - life in the 18th century, where the word of the day was calamanco, a checkered woolen fabric often used for women's shoes. I'm really gonna need to go back there for another word of the day. Or maybe the Blueberry Pie.

Ocean - ahhh - the big beautiful ocean, the sound of lapping waves. Sand between my toes. {Roll with me here, I'm re-living it, okay?} Wouldn't you drive up mountains and blow through stop signs for some serious beach time?