Eggs Benedict

I'm home from my delightful, delicious overnight stay at the Miners Pick bed and breakfast in Idaho Springs.

Here is everything that I did.

I drove up to the mountains, leaving my house at 2:30 and arriving at the bed and breakfast at 3:30. It felt charming and welcoming as soon as I walked in. I chose the room I wanted, the prettiest one, of course, or at least prettiest in my opinion: see above. I loved the quote stenciled on the wall above the bed: "How to dream with your eyes open."

I established myself cozily in the little common room and read an entire doctoral dissertation for a defense I'm attending in the College of Education next week; the dissertation is on the alleged" boy crisis" in education. I read the recent newsletters from the Authors Guild and the Society of Writers and Illustrators. I read the fabulous first chapter of Little Bee by Chris Cleave, which I had borrowed from my friend, Rowan.

Then it was time for dinner. I strolled down the one inviting little commercial street in Idaho Springs and bought myself two bars of lavender-and-oatmeal soap at a soap boutique. Then I dined at Mangia, a lovely Italian restaurant a few doors down. I ordered myself a glass of Pinot Noir, which I enjoyed with their wonderful, warm fresh-baked bread, followed by a perfect salad and stuffed shells filled with spinach and cheese.

Back "home" again, I put on my nightgown and actually graded ten midterms: yes, I did bring them with me, and it felt so good to make progress on them as a kindness to my future self. And then I read another amazing chapter of Little Bee before I fell asleep.

This morning I arose at six, made myself some tea, and wrote Chapter 37 of my novel. Breakfast was at eight, just me and Vicky, the world's most hospitable innkeeper: cranberry-pomegranate juice, a small bowl of cut-up watermelon and kiwis, and the most attractive and delicious eggs Benedict I have ever seen or eaten.

And then I packed up and drove home, about as completely content as a person can be.