A weekend away with Mike.
I've never been to a Bed and Breakfast before.
Gorgeous! You know...the house.
Built in the trolley car "suburb" of Charlotte, North Carolina in 1917,
which is now the heart of "Uptown" with some of the most beautiful historic homes and trees I've ever seen.
The home had great bones, and smelled like my first piano teacher's house,
although I don't remember her house being this amazing...
And I know her piano wasn't as "grand."
And details this great....
A libraray with antique books I'd have loved to peruse,
tempting me from the top of the ladder,
an overhead bookshelf encircling the room.
Our private room as beautiful as the common ones...
And the cranberry breakfast scones were melt-in-your-mouth good.
I didn't even get a picture of them!
We spent Friday walking and talking, and eating fabulous food,
window shopping in stores we can't afford,
but holding hands, and that's all that really matters anyway.
Saturday morning held glimpses of the Truth Project
and excitement over a sememster of swimming
in Christian worldview
with the finest in the pond...I mean, field.
We lunched in a hole in the wall pizza joint
with the most authentic Italian pizza I may have ever had,
and leftover espresso flan from the night before,
agreeing it was the best flan we'd ever eaten.
Which reminds me...
Cortadito (translation: a small cut):
Cuban espresso "cut" with steamed milk also from the night before.
(Was it even called "living" before there was Cuban coffee in my life?)
* * *
An amazingly mild early-Fall afternoon
at the Billy Graham Library
celebrating how God can use one man
and transform the ordinary
into something quite remarkable.
I don't think I realized how much Mike and I needed some time away
the absolute best detail of all.
No doubt about it.