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.

Nora