a brilliant disguise
As I plan a trip to Seattle, I have found an inn for Steve and I to stay in. As the story below proves, to say I have booked a bed and breakfast for our 25th anniversary would probably not be great. So inn it is. A very top rated inn. I have learned. Here is an account I have written of some of our bed and breakfast adventures. There have been more since I am happy to say, even though I professed in this story to be done. Never say never.
(written in February 2007)
Our room seemed suspiciously like the owner's own room, with many personal effects lying around. Hmm. To their credit, they were up at the crack of dawn making the big ranch breakfast promised, just right on the other side of the thin bedroom wall.
I stopped finding us bed and breakfasts to go to after that. I learned romance is best spontaneous and happens when you aren't trying for it. It's taking a walk around Laguna Gloria, it's sitting on the pier of my beloved family's home in Ephraim watching the sunset; it's watching my boys as they sleep, it's listening to Steve laughing hard as he watches the Office.
(written in February 2007)
"I'm giving him the award for hair most like Matthew McConaughey," I say to Steve. We are in the middle of the Deep Eddy pool, giving out awards to the people around us. Syd and Ben are splashing around nearby. "Impressive. Well, she gets an award for the woman most likely to give birth poolside," he says, nodding at a very pregnant woman a few feet away.
Steve and I get each other. Our love story isn't contrived, our romance not planned. Romance happens in the 40 minutes we have to shop at IKEA while our kids are in smaland. Laughing at our kids behind their backs is romantic. Giving awards to the lucky people at Deep Eddy. The only other being who gets me better than Steve is Jesus.
If marriage is a model of Christ loving his bride the church, then Steve is representing well. He loves unconditionally. Webster's describes romance as "a love affair, esp. an intense or happy one; mysterious or exciting in quality." You can't get more romantic than Jesus, who definitely is intense, mysterious and exciting.
It took me a while to understand true romance in marriage. To really learn that what the world has to offer is just a brilliant disguise. In the first years of our married life, I was forever trying to capture that romantic weekend away. You know, the one where you stay at some cozy bed and breakfast, sitting fireside with someone else's well-behaved golden retriever at your feet, while the owners disappear.
The first place I found for us to stay was located in a small town in Texas. The room we were supposed to have was beautiful, but for some reason the proprietor decided she was going to stay there that night, and instead put us in an old schoolhouse on the property that she had converted into lodging. I found myself thinking about Nellie from Little House on the Prairie, the one always getting into trouble, as we slept up in the rafters.
Steve and I get each other. Our love story isn't contrived, our romance not planned. Romance happens in the 40 minutes we have to shop at IKEA while our kids are in smaland. Laughing at our kids behind their backs is romantic. Giving awards to the lucky people at Deep Eddy. The only other being who gets me better than Steve is Jesus.
If marriage is a model of Christ loving his bride the church, then Steve is representing well. He loves unconditionally. Webster's describes romance as "a love affair, esp. an intense or happy one; mysterious or exciting in quality." You can't get more romantic than Jesus, who definitely is intense, mysterious and exciting.
It took me a while to understand true romance in marriage. To really learn that what the world has to offer is just a brilliant disguise. In the first years of our married life, I was forever trying to capture that romantic weekend away. You know, the one where you stay at some cozy bed and breakfast, sitting fireside with someone else's well-behaved golden retriever at your feet, while the owners disappear.
The first place I found for us to stay was located in a small town in Texas. The room we were supposed to have was beautiful, but for some reason the proprietor decided she was going to stay there that night, and instead put us in an old schoolhouse on the property that she had converted into lodging. I found myself thinking about Nellie from Little House on the Prairie, the one always getting into trouble, as we slept up in the rafters.
Before breakfast the next morning, we were brought down to the main house and seated with other guests in the living room. A small deer named Baby joined us, who they said was housebroken until she proved otherwise.
The next place we stayed at was a beautiful historic home in St. Louis. Sometime in the evening I noticed that one of the doors to our bathroom had been replaced by a folding screen. Ever wanting to be the spy, I moved it to see what was going on. I found a camera on a tripod.
"Steve, check this out," I said. "Do you think this is for security?"
Doubtful. "Uh, no," he said. Creepy.
You'd think I would have stopped with that one, but next I planned a surprise for Steve on his birthday. A bed and breakfast ranch outside of Austin. I knew he was done with B and B's, but I thought this could be THE one, THE romantic getaway. It had horses, it had a hot tub, it promised privacy. Really, what more could you want?
As we passed up the hotels in Austin and approached this ranch, I sensed Steve was not totally thrilled. Maybe it was in the way he said, "Are we going to another bed and breakfast?" as if approaching death row.
The next place we stayed at was a beautiful historic home in St. Louis. Sometime in the evening I noticed that one of the doors to our bathroom had been replaced by a folding screen. Ever wanting to be the spy, I moved it to see what was going on. I found a camera on a tripod.
"Steve, check this out," I said. "Do you think this is for security?"
Doubtful. "Uh, no," he said. Creepy.
You'd think I would have stopped with that one, but next I planned a surprise for Steve on his birthday. A bed and breakfast ranch outside of Austin. I knew he was done with B and B's, but I thought this could be THE one, THE romantic getaway. It had horses, it had a hot tub, it promised privacy. Really, what more could you want?
As we passed up the hotels in Austin and approached this ranch, I sensed Steve was not totally thrilled. Maybe it was in the way he said, "Are we going to another bed and breakfast?" as if approaching death row.
"It's going to be great. They have horses we can ride," I tell him.
This gets a response from him. "Oh, man."
Years before when we were dating, Steve had joined my family on a vacation in Port Aransas. My brothers and I thought it would be fun to take our intendeds horseback riding on the beach. It was Steve's first time on a horse. Just as we were leaving the stables, a horse came galloping at breakneck speed towards us, the woman on it's back screaming bloody murder. It came to a halting stop before us, throwing the woman off and into a post. We took off for the beach on our horses as the ambulance arrived, Steve white as a sheet.
I'm sure he was re-living this memory as he told the ranch owners to please give him a gentle horse. His horse was so gentle it stopped every 10 yards, so so old.
I'm sure he was re-living this memory as he told the ranch owners to please give him a gentle horse. His horse was so gentle it stopped every 10 yards, so so old.
Our room seemed suspiciously like the owner's own room, with many personal effects lying around. Hmm. To their credit, they were up at the crack of dawn making the big ranch breakfast promised, just right on the other side of the thin bedroom wall.
I stopped finding us bed and breakfasts to go to after that. I learned romance is best spontaneous and happens when you aren't trying for it. It's taking a walk around Laguna Gloria, it's sitting on the pier of my beloved family's home in Ephraim watching the sunset; it's watching my boys as they sleep, it's listening to Steve laughing hard as he watches the Office.