We’re three days away from Desperation in Death arriving on shelves, to your house by mail or to your e-reader by magic, so that means it’s time for a few teasers. Not spoilers, just a few little things to notice as you read.
Usually I have some ideas of what will work as teasers when I first read an in Death — in this case, January. But this is a case that is worked in fewer than five days. There’s a lot pushing Eve in Desperation from every direction. Even scenes that lighten the mood momentarily could spoil the experience.
Here’s the official cover copy:
As Desperation opens, two girls plot to escape The Pleasure Academy – a place of living nightmares. Dorian, a thirteen-year-old runaway might never have made it out if not for her fellow inmate Mina, who’d hatched the escape plan. Mina may have been the more daring of the two—but they’d been equally desperate.
Unfortunately, they didn’t get away fast enough. Now Dorian, injured, terrified, wanders the streets of New York. Mina lies dead near the waterfront while Lt. Eve Dallas looks over the scene.
Mina’s expensive, elegant clothes and beauty products convince Dallas she was being groomed, literally and figuratively, for sex trafficking—and that whoever is investing in this high-overhead operation expects windfall profits. Roarke worries about the effect this case is having on Dallas, as it brings a rage to the surface she can barely control. No matter what, she must keep her head clear–because above all, she’s desperate for justice and to take down those who prey on and torment the innocent.
In the end, I decided that it would be best to share some questions I pondered during the read and reread. Next time I may go back to riddles, or in a real challenge, haikus.
There’s a person who DOESN’T know Eve from the vid?
Should I rename my bras? (you’ll see)
Who would you choose as the next cop to step up for an an exam?
Is Roarke allowed to apply Master of all He Surveys practices to work the Marriage Rules?
Who knew our favorite entrepreneur carried warm weather gear?
Who would come out on top if Eve and Mavis ever really had a fight?
Nannies can come in all shapes and sizes.
Finally, in a departure, my favorite line: “Uh-oh. Mom’s home.”
I’ll open the discussion thread early on Tuesday, so you can discuss any and all thoughts there.
Nora was appalled and asked me to find a way for her to help them bridge the gap — personally, not through the Nora Roberts Foundation. I contacted the WaPo reporter who provided me with the GoFundMe information.
Yesterday, Nora made a donation that will make all the difference to the Fund Patmos Library campaign.
Ron French at Bridge Michigan reached out to me after Nora’s donation. Bridge Michigan ran the original story about the Patmos Library being defunded along with several follow-ups on the fundraising campaign.
I have many emotions about the vote to defund and Nora’s determination to help. When I was 9 years old, the first place I was allowed to talk to on my own was the Brooklyn Public Library. Eight blocks down Fort Hamilton Parkway to the magical place where I could choose my own adventure. Where I could fill up summer days with stories. I went pretty much every day.
My first paying job was working as a page at the South Orange (NJ) Public Library Children’s Room — spent all my college years earning $2.25 (might have been $1.75) an hour so I could be around books. My mom decided after raising seven kids that being a librarian would be a good second career. She was a Children’s Librarian, then the director of the Florham Park (NJ) Public library for over 25 years.
So libraries are in my blood. And the thought that access to the services a library offers and the shelves full of interesting stories could be voted away because people don’t agree with all the information in those books is a nightmare.
I’m grateful Nora stepped up. Thank you emails from librarians have been streaming in.
And lesson learned, I will pay better attention to the salvos fired at the libraries around me so I’m prepared to fight for their right to remain open with access to all.
For those who would like to donate, the link is https://www.gofundme.com/f/fund-patmos-library-for-2023
Desperation In Death comes out shortly. As always, I enjoyed spending time ( a lot on this side of the page!) in that world, with the characters who inhabit it. And hope you will, too.
Whenever we announce a new In Death, there’s excitement and speculation. There’s also—inevitably—a continuing complaint from some readers.
It goes something like this:
The last book (or books) disappointed me/ wasn’t up to par because —name a favorite reoccurring character or characters —wasn’t in it/them or wasn’t in it/them enough.
It’s difficult to address or explain the reasons for this in a two sentence reply on Facebook, so I decided to address and explain here.
First: Trust me.
If you’re invested and attached to these characters, it’s because I created them. I know them—and yes, gentle reader, even better than you because they came from me.
It’s my job to write the best book I can. To do that, I have to respect and honor the story, and the people in it. It’s simply not possible to craft the best book I can if I try to shoehorn every character—even your personal favorites—into every single book in the series.
When a recurring characters shows up, it’s because it fits the story, the scene, the tone, the purpose. When they don’t show up, they didn’t fit.
It’s my job to craft the story.
Trust me to do my job.
If I wrote thinking: I have to squeeze Mavis into this, and Bella, and Louise and Charles, and Nadine, Feeney, and so on, the story would suffer for it. I’m not going to do that. Not ever.
Let me add an aside. I absolutely love writing scenes with Bella. I find her a joy, and find more joy in seeing Mavis’s evolution as a mom. But the books aren’t about Bella, Mavis and motherhood, or Eve’s often baffled reaction to both.
When they do come in, it’s for a purpose. To further the story, to lighten or darken the mood, to provide information, to interact in a way that makes sense in the storyline.
I’ll add in the In Death world very little time spans between stories—much, much less time than the six months span in which they’re published. How would it make sense for Lt. Eve Dallas to interact with all the recurring characters every few days when she’s pretty busy investigating murders? It just doesn’t.
Connected to the above complaint is: There wasn’t enough Roarke—which I firmly believe a good portion of readers expressing this actually mean: Not enough sex with Roarke. (Hard to blame you!)
But the same reasons apply. I’m not going to shoehorn sex scenes in either. They, like any scene, either flow into the story, for a purpose, or they don’t. Also, Roarke’s pretty busy running his empire, and while I have crafted ways—that make sense to me—to have him on the page, contributing to the investigation, even just as a sounding board—he and Eve have their separate careers and duties to them.
Roarke doesn’t work at Central, or in the field. He’s evolved into a consultant—officially—because it made sense, and opened a way to give him more page time, and added to his understanding of and respect for what Eve does.
There are books in the series where nearly everyone finds a way onto the page—for a purpose. And there are books where hardly anyone outside the main characters show up. Because they don’t fit in that storyline.
Trust me to know when they fit, when they don’t.
Since I’m devoting a blog to this, let me address a couple more questions/hopes.
I have no idea—none at this time—if/when Baxter will enter into a serious relationship. I have no idea—none at this time—if/when Morris will find another love. The purpose of the series is clear in the name. In Death. It’s about a cop investigating murder. Each time, every time. That comes first. The primary purpose is not to hook up every character in a romantic relationship.
The secondary purpose is, absolutely, the connections—emotional connections, the evolution of long-standing characters, and/or the introduction of new ones. But the purpose is not romantic relationships for all. And for me, and I do know them, many of the characters are perfectly content with their lives as they stand.
I had no thought to write Nadine into a serious relationship. Until Apprentice In Death. It flowed out—from the scene where Jake first appeared because it fit, it made sense, and Jake’s character worked. The chemistry worked, a nice surprise for me.
The same thing may happen for one of the other characters in an upcoming book—as yet unwritten—or it may not. Ever.
And yes, Mavis is still pregnant, and will be for several more books. That’s how the timeline of the series works, it’s the way I structured it a couple decades ago. Decades for you and me, about three years for the characters in that world.
Some people may just be tired of the series, find themselves burnt out on it. That happens, and it’s okay. Some cycle through disappointment in a book or a couple in a row because they didn’t get to see their favorite(s) play a part.
I can only say to that: Trust me. They’ll be back when they have something to add to the story.
Again, I hope you enjoy Desperation In Death. And can happily tell you, Mavis, Leonardo and Bella all appear in this one. Because they fit.
How have you fared during the dog days of summer? Or the depths of winter, depending on your hemisphere? Nora’s currently with family at the spa while I thought it was time to get a regular summer cold. (Forgot how little fun they are.)
But before either of those things happened, we had some time together at The Greenbrier.
Previously, the resort was such an oasis of cooler weather I’d taken to calling it Brigadoon. Unfortunately the magical properties of Greenbrier weather were no match for the current US summer reality. While we didn’t scorch, we had three solid days of rain along with late afternoons showers on two other days, so patio time was limited severely to a couple hours on arrival day and the last two days. That was a bit sad since we’ve mainly stayed outside/eaten dinner on the patio every visit.
However, the space is big enough that we made our own fun. And there was no thunder and lightning with the rain so Kat and Griffin spent hours at the pool each morning.
A couple days before we headed to the resort, JoAnne sent out a report of filming a Christmas movie at The Greenbrier (rumor is it will be titled Christmas at The Greenbrier).
As we turned on the main drive, there were all the trappings of a traditional Christmas — set among the mid-summer begonias, coleus and hosta.
The main building was decked out for a traditional Christmas, including the ice rink that Greenbrier has November through January (we’re summer visitors, who knew???). We think they are going to CGI the ice.
Pause for a second and consider any bride who dreamed of getting married at The Greenbrier — in the summer — arriving to find it decked for Christmas. Guests were not given a pre-arrival heads up. But plenty of creative families got their holiday card photos taken against the gorgeous Christmas in July set ups.
There was filming in the lobby on our first full day. A couple of us went down to watch for a bit. We didn’t recognize the actors so I’ve taken to checking IMBD for a cast list
The sound guys must be brilliant because they had to deal with a kid screeching in a stroller as his parents — not extras — walked through the lobby off set. Then there was a family coming down the hall, with someone giving instructions that echoed around the tiled lobbby, followed by a yelped “Oh S#*T!” when he saw the crew.
We stayed for three takes. And now we have something to watch in December. The staff didn’t know if it would be Hallmark or Lifetime, so once I know, I’ll share.
On the whole, the Greenbrier stay isn’t one to lend itself to daily travelogues. Nora and JoAnne worked out every morning. I went for walks or the gym. Everyone had books to read. Nora got a little work done. Kayla instructed me and Sarah on Instagram looks. The usual.
Mainly it lends itself to photos.
We had three wonderful sessions with Max at the glassblowing studio. He plans to move on from rural West Virginia this winter so we made the most of our glass time.
Sarah organized trips to the two escape rooms on the property. I declined because it felt too much like a dreaded game.
Though I get credit for playing hearts.
JoAnne was Chief Griffin Companion while the gang escaped from rooms. She was prepared to chase and hide and play, but both times, he opted to deal with his mother’s absence by napping in place.
There was a puzzle. Not as bad as the cupcakes from March, but a hard one. Nora and JoAnne completed it the last day.
Kayla turned 20 while we were there.
There was ghostly activity to entertain everyone. The keys stopped working daily. Nora, Kayla, JoAnne and Kat saw presences in the card room. I did my morning work in there for most of the trip. One morning I heard someone go down the hall to the kitchen. As she came back, Nora said, “Oh, good. A real person.”
Sarah had it the worst as a ghostly presence kept invading her room at night. She finished the trip sleeping in my room after our sensible Kat went into the room and reported whatever was in there wasn’t nice. Housekeeping confirmed there was something in that room that didn’t play well with others.
I slept extremely well. I think the fact I sleep in Wallis Simpson’s old room scares them all away.
Nora and I filmed our regular July Facebook live on Saturday afternoon. It was our first one since October 2021 and we were due for a catchup. Really hope this link works: https://fb.watch/eLKJQfU5mf/
We all dressed up for a fabulous dinner at Prime 44 (the steakhouse down the hall).
And in our final tradition, we’ve already booked our trip for 2023.
Nora may or may not have a spa trip update. Once she’s home, she stays put until NYC in October. In the meantime, I’ll head to the OBX to work by the ocean for a bit.
Hope the rest of your August is a good one. Here’s to cooler/warmer days in the weeks ahead!
Did you think I’d make you go cold turkey on the travelogues? I thought it might help the transition if I posted once more and shared a few things.
The trip home took some time, but the family was back in a rainy Maryland before dinner last night. Now Nora’s reacquainting herself with the dogs and the garden and putting away all those Christmas gifts. [Insert a procrastinator’s eye roll here.]
When you deal with photos without the experience, creating these posts can take a great deal of care. Usually I’d review the day’s worth of photos everyone uploaded to the shared Google account and pick what I thought would work. Put my choices in a draft blog post and then see what matched Nora’s copy, which would arrive overnight. Occasionally I’d send specific requests (like, Where the heck is the rosemary plant you went on about?? or Where’s a photo of the second puzzle?), but mainly it was going on instinct.
Finalizing the post was the first task of my day, which is why so many of you have sipped your morning drink and read the blog during this trip. Last year’ Montana posts were more cocktail hour ones.
Occasionally a photo would show up after I’d posted the blog.
Like this lovely one of Kayla and BW on the first night in Florence.
Or this lovely night shot from Jason.
Speaking of Florence, here’s BW’s video tour of the flat.
On occasion, I’d live up to the Cranky Publicist name and complain about not having details I couldn’t look up. Or would outright say no on a visual pun. More often the real issues were tech ones when WordPress didn’t like a photo format — especially from iPhones or iPads. In those cases, Jason — along with BW, another Android fan — would filter the photos through to me. Fortunately, we quickly figured out the work around and he didn’t have to do double duty for more than 3 weeks.
The work around for the panos — a family favorite — was a direct text to me.
On other occasions I’d have four photos of the same thing. In the case below, everyone liked this butt when they visited Pitti Palace. This is Kat’s version.
And there were several carousel photos, loved this for the action. Photo by Jason
As the goal was to have the photos to flow with Nora’s recaps, sometimes I couldn’t use the random photos everyone sent. I think you saw all of Kayla’s signs, but there was a lot of fabulous street art Kat captured in Florence.
Or the quirky things Kayla and BW noticed in Gimignano.
And I could have just done the flowers in Tuscany for days.
Plus tons of Griffin.
One of the games in action.
And the cloud, horizon, evening, daytime landscape views were gorgeous.
But you can’t share everything. And all things do come to an end.
Nora and I found the accommodations throughVia Villas and just scrolling through their website is almost a trip to Italy in and of itself.
Nora’s home for a couple weeks, then it’s time for Greenbrier. I’ll probably do the recaps for that one with Nora chiming in.
A day of packing and organizing and planning. Five adults and a toddler can spread out a lot in a couple weeks. Apparently I slept through a storm the night before—thunder, lightning and much needed rain—which turned the day’s sky pure blue, blew away all the haze, and took the temperatures down to normal.
Of course there’s time for racing, for Mario Cart—and a finished puzzle. Kat left me the last four pieces because she’s the best dil in the history thereof.
We have to be out of the bedrooms by nine for the cleaning crew to start, so packing’s pretty essential. And we have to plan our agenda for rental car return, customs stamps for tax back and so on.
Also essential is our traditional family panorama. Griffin’s not much interested in this tradition so we play slide the cars while Jason and Kat plan it out. Then he just runs around while we’re doing our thing.
There’s time to sit out, enjoy the view which never fails to relax, even when Mario Cart and the Switch must be packed up.
We take our last trip into Barbarino for dinner, aiming for Bijou where we’ve enjoyed dining in and take out a few times. As we sit, street side, a gorgeous classic car—I don’t think a Rolls but something like—top down streams by. Going the wrong way on the little one-way street.
In the back are unquestionably a bride and groom. They stop not far past us as a car coming the right way hastily backs up.
The bride steps out in her stunning fairy tale frothy strapless dress, hair up, crowned with little flowers. And she is not happy. She is the picture of The Pissed-Off Bride.
There’s some discussion—a photographer loaded with his gear hops out of a car. Then The Pissed-Off Bride strides alone down the street, her frothy hem and lovely train dragging in the dust. Shortly after, the groom in his handsome gray tux follows. And from around the corner, more discussion, louder discussion in rapid Italian.
I assume since the couple rode together in the fancy car the wedding already happened. This may be their first marital spat, or perhaps they’re united in their pissed-off status aimed elsewhere.
Meanwhile our delightful server takes our orders. Pizzas for Kayla, Jason and me. Tagliatelle with fungi for Kat and BW. Hot dog and fries for Griffin. Some salads.
Music starts up from somewhere, so I hope the Pissed-Off Bride is now The Happy Bride and dancing with her man.
The pizza’s marvelous, and I’ll miss it. Griffin’s hot dog is actually four hot dogs (they come on a sandwich, but they leave off the bread at Kat’s direction. He ate all of them. They’re not huge, but still. Four dogs.
We all thoroughly enjoy our last dinner in Tuscany. And some of us enjoy the complimentary limoncello after.
The sky’s pretty but lacks drama tonight following the pure blue sky day. And we head back for cappuccino in our kitchen and some of the teramisu Kat and Jason bought for BW’s and my anniversary.
Kayla and Griffin have a game filled with wild laughter. She is just so sweet with him, and he is so in love with her. They’ve bonded drum-tight over these three weeks.
But bedtime comes as bedtime must.
This morning Chain Saw Man is silent. I like to think he knows we’re leaving and is sorry to see us go so can’t drag himself to work.
The cleaning crew’s already busy. We have a couple of hours left before our car—the one to take BW, Kayla, me, the luggage to the airport—arrives. We’ll try to limit ourselves to the kitchen and dining room to stay out of their way.
It’s been fabulous, absolutely perfectly fabulous. Family, fun, food, wine, shopping, art, culture, views, adventures, relaxing and racing. I’m grateful to have had this time to spend in such beautiful places with people I like and enjoy as much as love.
But now the time approaches to say Arrivederci to Italy, and grazie.
After workout, I’m told we have no cold water. The gardener’s trying to fix this issue, and the housekeepers are also on it. It’s a good thing my workout was brief today, because no shower. Definitely no shower as by the time we’re ready to leave, no water at all.
And about the time we’re walking out the door, the villa manager’s husband fixes it.
Griffin’s not happy when Mommy heads out, but his attempt to follow her—making a run for it, even figuring out how to open the gate—is foiled by Daddy.
And with Kat at the wheel, we’re off.
I anticipate a workshop where we’ll sit around someone’s table and play with silver wire, twisting or bending it into what would be in my case, a poor excuse for a ring or pendant. No problem with that, it’s always fun.
Navigation takes us to a kind of industrial area between the villa and Florence, and now I anticipate we’ll twist that wire in some sort of warehouse setting. Then we make the last turn, and it’s a little bit residential, so I’m back to table.
We ring at the gate, walk in. Katarina greets us, and takes us up to a display room to explain what’s possible to make. Well, wow. Jewelry and much more. Boxes, bowls, key chains, charms, wine stoppers, salad tongs. Beautiful, shiny things. She explains some aren’t possible to make in an hour or two, but we have many choices, and she’ll take us down to what she calls the laboratory for inspiration.
This isn’t twisting silver wire at a table.
It’s a serious, professional work space with all sorts of tools, presses, rollers, work benches, soldering irons. And her father who sits at a workbench creating. She shows us little silver beads that come from the mine, and explains they send them away to a place that makes them into sheets of silver. And—fun fact—pure silver doesn’t tarnish. Copper’s added to make sterling, and the copper causes the tarnish. We’ll be working with sterling.
Kayla’s picked what she wants to make. And I can’t tell you as it’s a surprise gift, but after a brief consultation Katarina says it’s possible. I decide on a pair of earrings I saw in the display room, and Kat, being Kat, has an idea for something else altogether.
She makes a prototype out of a strip of paper. Katarina and her father discuss if it’s possible. He doesn’t speak English so the discussion’s in Italian. But it’s possible.
Katarina tells us that silver is not only pure, it’s alive. I think our group will be very simpatico with Katarina and her Papa.
Kayla begins, and follows instructions on how to use the big tools to bend, straighten. One of them has a large handle, and you swing it, keeping back as when it swings back, it would knock you a good one in the head. Kayla want her creation engraved, so into another workspace and the engraver, a machine you guide by hand—so cool. You pick the letters, line them up, and then increase or decrease the size, center. You hold one handle, and with the other guide the engraver into the letters on the tiles so it etches the letter into the silver. Slowly, firmly.
It’s absolutely fascinating.
Then it’s soldering time. Heat the solder, dip it in powder, touch it to the joint or base when the flame turns the silver at that point pink.
Now Kayla’s really impressive creation goes into a solution to clean it, and it’s my turn.
Before I begin, Papa takes us into another room to show off some of his work. Well, Jesus! The man is a true artist. Beautiful candlesticks, ornate bowls—all that detail, all hand-crafted. Gorgeous boxes with intricately designed lids. He’s justifiably proud.
To start I’m given what looks like a little spring of silver and sharp-nosed clippers. Snip! She tells me to cut a few as back ups for mistakes. We take the little rings to the soldering station to fuse the ends together. Fun! I haven’t soldered since high school metal shop.
Now I get to do the big swing, and the rings are now flat. Into another room and what Katarina calls the pasta machine. It’s basically a roller. Put the rings down, nudge them under with a tool, and the big roller (what a number THAT would do on a finger!) flattens them more and shapes them into ovals. Do it all again. We take the ovals to another bench where I get to hammer them. I love hammered metal, and it’s a kick to do it. Whap, whap, whap. Then over to file the joints inside the top. Punch the holes for the wires.
I’ve freaking made hammered silver earrings.
Kat begins by, along with Katarina and Papa, bending a strip of silver by hand. And oops, cuts her thumb. Antiseptic and bandaid provided. Kat bleeds for her art. The experts feel the strip was too thin, and provide a thicker one. And Papa works with Kat. His daughter tells me he is very precise, has very high standards. If a guest, like us, or a customer wants something made he doesn’t like, he won’t do it. Just no from Papa.
Whenever it’s time to make samples, she tells me, it’s a big family fight.
He obviously approves of Kat’s design as he breaks from his own work to supervise hers. She has two strips, hammers them—again under Papa’s eye. He’ll say no, or stop, or signal to continue. Bend them into the shape she wants by hand—again with Papa instructing—Nods, no, stop.
More tools to turn the flat strips into the smooth and rounded, soldering.
Kat’s work goes into a sandblaster for cleaning. All our creations are polished—so pretty!
Up to the display room where Katarina provides Kat with ribbons and twine so she can use her curving bauble as a bracelet or pendant—or both as she made two. Papa comes up, so I think we’ve entertained him.
We’re given certificates—like diplomas. Papa instructs his daughter to roll and ribbon them. (Pretty sure we made a hit with him.)
I spy a pair of small, gorgeous, ornate scissors—for cutting grapes, I’m told—and buy them.
What a fun, fascinating time. I’m not surprised by how beautiful Kat’s and Kayla’s creation are, but I did astonish myself with mine.
Well pleased with ourselves and with Papa and Katarina, we head home to show off our work.
Griffin’s happy to see Kat. He must be happy to see me as before too long he challenges me to a race, with jumps.
More puzzling—we’re almost there!
And oh—no water. This time BW fixes it as instructed.
Time for a drink, a sit outside. The lawnmower’s back and I can hear it rattling in front of Griffin.
And another oh—no AC. What the what?? I wouldn’t mind so much, but it’s seriously hot. I’d had a conversation with Katarina about this long, unseasonable heatwave and drought. It’s a serious problem. Kayla comes out to stand in the center of the breezeways, doors open on either side for the cross-breeze.
The manager’s husband and daughter come to fix. Takes awhile to figure out that when the gardener tried to fix the water, he inadvertently turned off the AC. As the villa took awhile to heat up, it’ll take a little while to cool down.
But we’re heading out to dinner soon anyway.
And off we go—so does the lawnmower. We’re going to try the place just down from last night’s spot, and at seven-fifteen are the first table occupied. Kayla and I are pleased they offer green salad—just field greens. Many varieties of pasta to follow. I go with the thick spaghetti in a garlic and tomato sauce, and it’s wonderful. Griffin’s happy with his lawnmower, Kat’s phone and French fries to start. It’s a much quieter place than the night before, and service is much brisker and still relaxed.
[The variety of dinner choices to follow.]
Everyone’s well pleased with their choices. Kat has her splash of wine from the best bottle of red yet. Smooth as silk.
The sky goes pink—a huge cloud, rosy pink, demands pictures. Time for cappuccino and dolci as the bells chime at nine. Laura tells me this is an old-tradition, the mad bells at nine—to signal it’s time for prayers and bed.
A perfect little chocolate soufflé first? Yes, please!
A mishap with the cappuccino, as the tray dips and two hit the stone. The waiter’s full of apologies—no big for us, we assure him. Replacements delivered, and we all enjoy.
The walk back in time to see those last fiery lights. And home for another look at the half moon before bed.
The winery we’d hoped to tour is fully booked, but we may take a drive to look at a castle. Depending on the distance and how windy the road, I’ll join or stay back and pack. Packing must be faced as this is our last day.
Chain Saw Man doesn’t disappoint and has been busy since about six a.m. Otherwise, the hills and valleys are quiet. I’ll do my last water bottles for weights routine, see what’s what.
In the quiet, I watch a hot air balloon float over the hills.
After my work out, I can hear Kayla fake squealing so know I’ll find her and Griffin, at least, in the game room. And I do, along with Kat and a game of video Yahtzee. Griffin requires a brief non-virtual race with Nana before he morphs into Danger Guy dangering on the sofa. He pays no heed to reminders of his previous spill, but fortunately doesn’t repeat it.
He does invite me to jump from said sofa to the padded bench. While flattered by his belief in my prowess, I respectfully decline.
It’s time for puzzling. Kayla does a little packing, Jason’s doing some foundation work. I make a little snack of cheese, grapes and paprika-flavored chips (tasty!) and write for an hour.
We pass a lovely, long, lazy day where I occasionally think about packing a little, then go back to the puzzle. BW and I have a drink and sit outside—a much better use of time—and Griffin has a nap.
A new-to-us restaurant is on tonight’s agenda. It’s a street east from the little main road, and a kind of different world. It’s a big outdoor space, some under a pergola, other tables uncovered, and all with the gift of a spectacular view. We won’t get the sunset here, but that also means we won’t have the sun’s heat and glare as we sit.
It’s a lively place, and I think a number of locals as well as vacationers already enjoying it. I can’t tell if there’s more dining inside, but think it’s all kitchen and work area. The bells chime over the sounds of conversations and clattering dishes.
They bring us water and two brown bags of bread. One of the offerings is green. I think basil maybe. Pesto bread? I don’t want to eat bread because:
I decide, because who knows when I’ll have the chance again, to go with the Florentine steak. I won’t make a dent, but others can enjoy the left-overs. Marco, our waiter, assures me it isn’t really so big. He also assures Kat they can make some pasta with just butter for Griffin. They also have what we discover are home-made potato chips.
They bring us out little dishes of complimentary tomato and bread soup. I taste it—really good—but again, I have steak coming.
Meanwhile a family group is seated at the table beside us. Two couples, a girl of about four, a boy of about 18 months, and a very fresh baby in a pram.
The boy’s wearing overalls. He has red hair. He’s possibly the cutest child (excepting my own kids and grandchildren, of course) I’ve ever seen. The girl’s curious about our table, and gives us—or at least me—the eye. She’s also very protective of the baby and checks on her many times.
The light changes as day ends and goes, on this eastern side, gold.
Kat and BW get a starter—it’s an egg, somehow breaded and deep fried into a globe within the breading. It’s fascinating—and they both give it major kudos.
Despite Marco’s claims, the steak is huge. It actually comes on its own table.
Its own table.
It’s amazing, and I don’t do it justice. BW and Jason will have a hearty lunch today. But I enjoy every bite I can manage. And the Chianti, and the soft fall of night all around.
The little boy and his father approach the table. It seems the Seriously Adorable Child wanted to give us all high fives. Now add charming to adorable.
The little girl does something which earns her a scolding. Tears follow. But she rebounds and strolls around the tables, smiles at me, checks on the baby or walks with baby and mama up and down the cobblestone street when baby needs soothing.
Kat also strolls Griffin. It’s a very leisurely meal, and he’s a trooper, but he needs to move a little.
The girls decide to split a dessert—something with cream and dark chocolate and wafer thin crunchy pastry. I now assume the restaurant doesn’t believe in splitting as we each get a dish of it, and combined it would be enormous. I do what I can because it’s fantastic.
Griffin’s holding on—it’s nearly ten now, and we arrived at seven-thirty—but he looks unhappy. Kat says: Bedtime? And hope spreads over his face as he repeats that magic word.
We have two cars, so BW and I stay back—Kayla’s tired, too—to wait for the check that’s taking its time getting to us. It may be ten, but the place continues lively.
It’s a quiet night walk back to the car—I could’ve used twice the distance after that meal—then the drive home. Kat and Jason wait in the kitchen to make sure we arrive safely. Sweet.
And now another perfect summer morning, and CSM’s making busy use of it. Me, I’m just enjoying the view.
Likely an abbreviated workout coming as we girls are heading off to our silver jewelry making workshop this morning. I don’t expect to make anything memorable—but for the experience—but I’m anticipating what Kat and Kayla create.