A Fine Romance

Indeed. B & I rented a little cabin in the County o' Brown this past weekend, otherwise known as the "We Don't Have A Baby...Hooray!" weekend extravaganza. But in fact, we have 5 fuzzy ones, two of whom we brought on our trip. Next time, we'll think better of that. Aside from the fact that this is the first trip we've taken in three and a half years, since our honeymoon, for no other reason than to just "spend time together," we've spent the last couple months looking forward to this trip for mainly two reasons: fireplace and hot tub.

We arrived at the cabin to find the driveway, which was curvy and steep, completely iced over. Unable to drive the car to the top, we were forced to unload two elderly, arthritic dogs and all of our weekend belongings at the base of the hill. Six periling trips up and down the driveway of Mount Everest later, as I'm balancing delicately on the ice to extract the last few items from my vehicle, a big truck with a plow pulls in and a young man jumps out. "They told me to come down here and bust up your ice a bit so you could get up the drive." Don't bother, I tell him. We're finished.

Once inside, we unpack and settle in for our weekend of frivolity. We made a delicious dinner of filet mignon, broiled to perfection, spinach salad and baked potato. Nearly comatose from food, we decide this would be an excellent time for a dip in the hot tub. This is, after all, one of the main reasons we're here. Excitedly, we rip off our clothes, dig up our robes and race outside, tearing the lid off the hot tub.

The water was tepid. After searching frantically for a temperature dial, hopping from one foot to the other in hopes we don't freeze to the deck, we gave up for the night and decided to call the realty office in the morning. We weren't fit for public consumption at that point in the evening anyway.

The next morning, a maintenance man was sent to reset our hot tub and drop off a space heater, since the wall heater in the bathroom didn't work, and given that it's separated from the rest of the cabin by a closed door and another room, it was a balmy 20 degrees in there.

Fine, minor interruptions, but we carry on in good spirits.

Then, at approximately 4:30 in the afternoon, B looks out the window just in time to see a young couple walk up to the front door of our cabin and knock. If they would have been just 3 minutes earlier, this would have been quite a bit more embarrassing than it already was. Apparently, they stayed there recently and left behind their little hand-held gaming device. (Who the hell brings video games to a CABIN in the WOODS?!) They said the realty office told them there were "just cleaning people" here and they could come by to look for it. B, a bit flustered, let's them in and they're all apologies and smiles as they root through our piles of blankets and pillows strewn about. They chatter on nervously about their trip to the cabin, ("Yeah, we were just chilling on the couches when we lost it," the guy offers. "We got engaged here," the girl bubbles.) as I stand there looking, I'm sure, a bit stunned and wondering if they're going to pull out a pair of my panties from the crevices of the couch. What I wanted to say to her was, "Yeah? Well we are married. And let me tell you what happens when married people finally get what's supposed to be a private weekend to themselves..."

Instead, feeling self-conscious in B's over-sized fleece vest I'd thrown on over the skimpy sheer white tank I was wearing–braless, because that's how we married folks do it–I retreated to the second floor. Once they were gone, we just sort of stared at each other in astonished silence for a few seconds. I chose that time to call the property manager and inform her that our hot tub was still not hot and oh, by the way, total strangers just showed up at our secluded doorstep on her office's suggestion that they just drop by to look for their belongings. For this, we received merely the reassurance that our hot tub would be heated appropriately in time for use this evening and surely these people showed up on their own accord, because "no one from our office would say that." At least she seemed almost as irritated as I was about the unexpected intrusion, though a little compensation off our bill would have really sent home her tone of concern.

All this aside, we had a lovely time. Instead of sticking around the area for a little site-seeing or dilly-dallying, we drove straight home, in record time. We were surprisingly, absurdly happy to be back in our cozy, cluttered home.