It was worth it

I don't know how it's possible for me to forget how freakin' much I hate car travel. There is just nothing pleasant about it - between the ache of muscles that haven't moved in hours, the monotonous view of the ass end of a truck, and the inevitable traffic jam, I was in full-on crank mode by the time we got to Maine. (Although, being stopped on I-495 for an hour gave me time to contemplate the karmic possibilities of a cracked windshield on Greg's new car.)

The visit to the Mark Twain house was just as wonderful as I had hoped. The home's Victorian gaudiness was not the fascinating part, but the opportunity to feel as if you have actually stepped into the life of one of the most amazing wits of this country. The historical caretakers have done a fantastic job piecing back together the life and times of Twain's happiest years. Having worked with The Riley home (ask me sometime about the time Riley toured with Twain) I know how difficult it can be to keep historical accuracy separated from the myths.

Each balcony of the home has a different style of railing - my favorite was the one that reminded me of a steamboat captain's wheel -

We couldn't, of course, take pictures from the inside, but if I could have, you would have seen the reverse of this view - from the library through the conservatory and into the back yard. To love books as I do, and plants as I do.....there is no heaven but a place like that!

We visited the Mark Twain gift shop, y'know, like ya do, and walked out with 3 books (surprise!) and a postcard. 

Then on to Maine where we settled into our lodgings (so charming! - pics in the next post) and then to dinner with Will and Max.

Those are chupacabra margaritas - muddled cilantro and hot peppers topped with traditional margarita - wow!