Good Morning, Sunshine ... And Goodbye

I got up pretty early and jumped right in the shower, figuring I would give Grammy a little more time to sleep in. As I'm washing my hair, I see the shower curtain pulled aside and her standing there stark naked getting ready to step in.

Holy awkward, Batman.

With unmistakable amusement in my voice, I ask if she plans to get in the shower with me. She is clearly startled. She saw the blanket I tossed on the couch after I was done reading my emails this morning and thought I was snuggled under it. Still smiling, I ask if she thought I was in the habit of just leaving the shower running while I wasn't in it. She mumbles something and goes back to the bedroom.

It's going to be an interesting day.

The sun is out in full force this morning -- just in time to shine on our backsides as we depart this lovely area. Son of a ...

Still, it's lovely to sit out on the deck and enjoy our breakfast and a cup of coffee, even if it puts us on the road a half an hour later than planned. Once we're all packed up and I convince her we do not need to take the mayonnaise or vinegar we brought with us, we are on our way across state lines.

Of course, getting across Maine's takes about six freaking hours. We pass the time singing. I almost choke when Grandma starts rocking out to the 80's music I put on.  Particularly "Addicted To Love" by Robert Palmer. Apparently she loves drums. Who knew? She says when they started using drums at her church, the pastor asked if they were too loud. She told him that he'd never hear a complaint from her. My grandma, the rocker.

There's a crazy looking roadside flea market where I pick up a darling little vintage dress, all girl scout green, yellow rick-a-rack and huge pockets with matching yellow embroidered flowers. Then, we stop in Rumford, Maine to have lunch along the river. We've made lobster rolls. Paired with the jalapeno-cilantro cole slaw, they are pretty damn good -- if I do say so myself. That said, I have decided that I am just not the biggest fan of lobster rolls. Or lobster in general. I mean, it is good, but I prefer my lobster cooked for and picked for me. And in a bisque format, thank you very much.

Sorry, Maine. I will take some of your blueberries home with me, though. In preserve format.

Once we roll into New Hampshire, it's just shy of two hours across the state to Newbury, Vermont. As we drove along the coast of New England, I began to worry about seeing any leaves on the trip. Those fears are alleviated, though, the further north we drive. It started as little pockets of color. Nothing too vibrant, but still promising. As soon as we hit the Granite State, it was like an explosion. The dark green pines making the deep reds and vibrant oranges stand out that much more -- and this was near dusk. We can't wait to see what it looks like in sunlight!

More tomorrow. Our lovely hosts are making dinner this evening and we are off to visit with them.