Ready to Ride

Ready to Ride

Day Four- Part II

A view from the back deck.... also known s the 13th fairway

We arrived in Toano a little after one this afternoon, the trip east on Route 64 alternating between drizzle, downpour and beautiful blue skies. Every time we come down here, when I see the first signs for Williamsburg, I feel like I’m home. There’s just something about being here in Virginia that makes everything seem better. My ancestry, on my father's side, can be traced to colonial Virginia and Maryland, and the families of Richard Huffington, William Coulbourne, Jonathan Cottingham and Randall Revell, but that's more a story for my other blog, Plymouth Brock.

There was a lot to do this afternoon – (junk) food shopping for my niece, repacking, making sure we had the right sunglasses, gloves and jackets, repacking again, charging laptops, Kindles and cameras, repacking one more time, and of course, washing and waxing the Harley.

We headed down to the Aberdeen Barn in Williamsburg to meet BJ, his fiancé, Jessica and her parents – mom Sherri and stepdad Mike, dad Shayne and stepmom Lori - for dinner. Even though I had spoken to Sherri on the phone, it was the first time we were meeting the new in-laws face to face. Dinner was pleasant and we shared a lot of laughs.  It was good to see my baby boy, although I should probably stop referring to him that way.

And now we’re buttoning up the last minute details – Jason’s checking the directions and the locations of the Harley dealers in Kitty Hawk, NC, Kaila’s settling in, and I’ve repacked for the last time (it has to be… Jason put my bag in the bike).  We’re planning a 9:00 am start, so I’ll probably be up at 5:00….

PS.  I haven’t told Jason that the Devils lost the Cup….

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Heading East on Route 64

Heading East on Route 64

Day Four

June 11, 2012

Monday mornings are always difficult, even on vacation, especially when it means saying goodbye.

By 8:30 am, Jason and I were packed and heading back towards Virginia. The dog and cat were comfortably curled around each other in the back seat and the GPS alerted us to a four hour and seven minute trip to Toano.  The magnificent spectrum of greens coloring the hills was a stark contrast to the gray that blanketed the skies, and as random raindrops hit the windshield, sometimes with more ferocity than randomness, I was happy to be in the truck and not on the bike.

Sunday was a lazy, normal day spent with Courtney, Becky and the kids. Joey and Jason headed off to the golf course, but not before the pot of gravy (if it's got meat in it, it's gravy) was on the stove slowing simmering and filling the house with wonderful scents and the mouthwatering anticipation of dinner.

A brightly sunny but muggy day, Courtney dragged out the blow-up pool and the kids took turns splashing each other and on occasion, us, as we sat courtside to their antics. Boomer decided the pool was not for him, so he toddled around the perimeter, filling his shoes with water and dumping it on his siblings, himself and once on an unsuspecting Ajax.

We laughed and talked the afternoon away, and after Jason and Joey returned, got the breezeway set up for dinner. They’re a great combination, my daughter and son-in-law. She’s the baker and he’s the chef, so meals at their house are always a delightful presentation and taste. 

True to form, Joey outdid himself…again. The table was lined with a feast of eggplant parmigiana, chicken parmigiana, a heaping bowl of spaghetti, meatballs, sausage, salad and bread. It was awesome. Courtney’s apple pie prompted Jason to quip, “Baked Alaska AND apple pie in the same weekend! I’m never leaving!”

But leave we did, and once again, I find myself typing in the truck, only this time it’s not with the exhilaration of seeing my daughter, but the sadness of having to leave her again. 

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