Down from the Mountains
by Steve Mitchell
Lucie and I are home after our wonderful, anniversary getaway to the north.
A couple of months ago, she asked me if I’d rather go to Flagstaff or Prescott. I chose Prescott.
Then, I forgot which one I’d chosen.
And she wouldn’t tell me, but kept it a surprise.
The day before we left she let slip it was Prescott, but she didn’t say where we were staying.
So I found out when we arrived – it was the Motor Lodge.
It’s a great place, fun and friendly. I don’t know what you’d call the rooms. Cabins? Bungalows? They’re detached and each has its own little carport or garage.
They gave us a glass of wine when we checked in and the owner went over a map of the local area and recommended places for us to visit.
Our room had a gas fireplace and a kitchen sink and mini fridge, as well as the usual amenities; it had no phone, though. Who needs a room phone in this day and age?
Also there was an old eight track player in the kitchen area.
We found the Joan Jett eight-track album at a vintage shop, and decided to buy it and sneak it into the collection. We don’t know if they’ve discovered it yet.
So we settled in and walked the local neighborhoods and grabbed a quick bite.
And then, alas, back at the room, on the very first night, I knelt on the bed and…crunch… I broke Lucie’s glasses.
She’s nearsighted and can’t drive or see much without her glasses.
Luckily, there was a convenience store right next door. I jinked over and found some Krazy Glue and we were able to put Lucie’s glasses right, at least well enough to last the rest of the stay.
Otherwise, it was a relaxed stay. It was cold and windy. We walked around historic Prescott and Whiskey Row. We perused the vintage shops. We ate and drank.
I had a wonderful, wonderful time.
Thank you, Sweetie! Happy Anniversary!
I love you.