Last week J. turned 50. He's not thrilled about the large-ish number. And, truthfully, it's taking some getting used to for me, as well. It seems as though I've just hit the 40s, but my husband has breached that other decade. The next notch up.
So, to help us adjust, my parents watched Max and Claire for a night (they were here on their annual visit to Seattle) and J. and I roadtripped to Cave B, an awesome winery/Inn in Quincy, Washington. I went berserk and scheduled us for an expensive room, massages, and a fancy dinner (bleu cheese potatoes, you all!). We also wine tasted.
Even though I'm a much bigger wine drinker than J., he knows more about wine than I. Hearing him throw around words that weren't "bitey" and "non-bitey" was no small turn on for This American Life loving, bookish, lushy me.
While there, we were surrounded by severely pruned grape vines, beautiful in a craggy way, and acres upon acres of fragrant wild sage. Our room had a view of the Columbia River, and across it, layers of gorgeous brown and orange rock.
It was good to get out of the city and see such a radically different landscape. Even better that it was only three hours away.
While my mom and dad were in town, we did some touristy stuff, including the Theo Chocolate tour and visiting Skagit Valley Tulips, which seems to be something one does with visiting parents, as the last time we went was with J.'s parents when his dad was alive.
A fun but exhausting week.
I'm ready to spend time inside my head again. Which means more angst for you to read about sooner rather than later.