The fact is she had considered a thousand details long before we arrived. But her welcome was so easy and effortless that from the first hug at the airport, I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into calm and warm. First, a wondrous walk through billions of cherry blossoms, perfectly placed in the only window of the day without rain. A steaming latte, grown-up conversation. A driving tour through the city.
On the back of the guest bath door, a fluffy white bathrobe. Piles of fresh towels. An on-the-counter line-up of delicious potions and lotions.
The softest grey on the walls. Pretty white tulips by the window. A stack of magazines, every one current, at the bedside.
Fresh catch from the fishmonger, topped with meyer lemon sauce. Kale. Happy cow yogurt, strawberries and blueberries. My first tartin. Brunch and bread pudding and bellinis.
Hockey. Tennis. Shopping.
Dinner in the shadow of the capital. Political maneuvering. People watching.
An ice cold diet coke and this week’s People and a ride to the airport, just because.
Thank you, my dear friend. A thousand times, thank you.
30 Days of Grace II