We went to this place:
A bed and breakfast on Cape Cod. Late at night, in our pretty room called "Moonglow," we sat in reclining chairs facing a big window, looked at the stars, held hands, and talked and talked and talked.
Today we drove all the way to Provincetown. It's at the very tip of the Cape. Sam and I have decided that the Cape looks like Popeye's flexed arm. (We don't know if this is a cliche. Has anyone heard this before?) Look:
So we were on Popeye's knuckle. We ate lunch. This is Sam eating lunch:
Then we tried to get close to a lighthouse and failed. But we did find a beach and spent 1.5 seconds on it until we decided it was COOOLLLLDDD and literally ran back to our car.
I can't tell you how much we needed to go away. Since our wedding was quick and the cross country move followed on its heels, we didn't really honeymoon. This was kind of a mini-honeymoon. A minimoon.
We've both had a rough time adjusting to all the changes. We've both had vicious health problems. We've both felt grumpy about our work situations. And it's easy, when all that's going on, to forget what it's about. And we remembered this weekend: it's about being in love, taking care of each other, talking and smooching and laughing and such. All that mushy stuff. It's about mushy stuff. I love mushy stuff.