It's been too long since I had to take my shoes off, put my liquids in a ziploc, and pound the water in my reusable water at O'hare. I boarded a plane a few days before my birthday to see some of my favorite people in the world. It had been nearly half a year since I've seen the Richards', but with friends like them, it was as though no time passed at all.
I'll be sure to give you all the details of our Eastern Shore adventures, but first a story of what being in close quarters on a puddle jumper can do to two grown women. Readers with two-year olds, there is no need to finish this paragraph. The women in this story merely recreated the referring I only imagine you have to do when your kids are fighting in the back seat. The flight attendant had to be called when two women couldn't seem to figure out how to resolve their space issues. Woman A put her seat back causing woman B to get in a tizzy because she was in the last row and couldn't move her seat any further back. "Just because you can't move your seat doesn't mean I can't," I heard one of the women snarl. And then Woman B began kneeing the reclined seat causing Woman A to turn around and scream for Woman B to "stop kicking her chair." Yes, Woman A could have easily put her seat back to neutral, but no, a hissy fit was what she chose that morning. Great entertainment, though I fell asleep as the flight attendant was calming them down so I'm a little fuzzy on the resolution. Lucky for everyone, it was only an hour and a half flight.
Driving from the airport it was as though I never left the Midwest. The drive from Baltimore to Easton, Maryland mimicked the drive from Milwaukee to Madison. Rolling hills and green fields. It was small town Wisconsin, less than two hours from the ocean. We passed an adorable instrument shop clearly run by an old hippy and crossed the bay. The bridge wasn't as scary as Mackinac, but I'm sure I would have had white knuckles if I were the driver.
We had lunch in downtown Easton, a Gilmore Girls-esque square with a cute main street of restaurants and pubs. The Washington Street Pub is where we bellied up for lunch. Nick ordered oysters, only half a dozen since we thought he'd be the only one partaking. We were mistaken. Nick convinced me that I had to try the oysters.
(Side Note: Yes, I know, I'm a vegetarian. But oysters have no central nervous system. They don't feel pain. Farming them isn't a detriment to the environment. And, I eat cheese. So, as I've said before, I draw these lines for myself that might not always make the most sense to other vegetarians/vegans. But, that is why I am not an evangelical vegetarian. I eat what I eat and you can eat what you eat. And we can still be friends.)
The oysters didn't taste like much. The texture was what I imagine uncooked chicken to feel like, which is to say weird a little too chewy. I don't know that I would order them again. I'm glad to be able to say I tried it, but I think I would rather use my calories on the amazing pub chips, veggie sandwich,. and extra pickle I ordered.
After lunch it was going to be park time, but Corrine called and we made a detour to visit her office. It was so cute to hear Elaina (their two-year-old) switch from saying "Go Park" to "Go Mom" I almost couldn't stand it.
After errands, and picking up food stuffs for the evenings festivities we made it back to their place and Nick prepped "our" contribution for the pot-luck block party -- guacamole. If the main street/square wasn't Stars Hallow enough for us, their neighborhood gets together once a month for a block party and tonight was the night. And outsiders like me were welcomed with open arms. I keep waiting for the Stepford moment, but it never came. Everyone was genuinely nice, welcoming, interesting, and they all were great conversationalists.
The back yard of the host was so familiar. It had a little wooded area behind the grassy yard. It was getting dark though, so we spent most of the night inside, but the next day I would get my share of sun at Elaina's birthday party. More on that in the next post.
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