"So," she told me,

"it's about time you say farewell to Lewes already, and tell us about your Christmas!"

Since SHE is my big sis, I have to act on the order, Reader Dear; wouldn't you agree?

First, however, before jumping over all that time and trees and tinsel, I have to tell you about a tiny, two-night vacation I took with the Yard Man and two of our friends, Tom and Tina.  This little vacation (well in advance of Christmas) was at lovely Hills Creek State Park near Wellsboro, Pennsylvania.

Tom and Tina had rented a cabin at the park and invited us to join them.

Let me say, Reader Dear, right up front: It was the best two-night-stay vacation I've had for years (perhaps ever!)  Interspersed with the photos, showing proof that this state park displays nature at its finest, I'll list my reasons why the little get-away got such a high rating in my book!

1.  It was at the invitation of dear friends, who hosted us (including meals!) and with whom we got to spend most of our time.

2.  There was no phone service, no wi-fi connection, no television! 



3.  The destination was a not-so-far-away spot, entailing no more than five or six hours  for the entire going and coming back.

4.  The weather was cooperative.  At least half the time was fit for enjoying nature, being  outside the cabin, hiking, going to view the beautiful canyon.    The other half (included rain, high wind, chilly temps and overnight snow) simply enhanced the time indoors playing games, reading, visiting, eating, laughing.

This, Viewer Dear, is a BLACK SQUIRREL! (All caps denoting my excitement, as I've never seen one previous to this sighting!)

On both nights of this two-night vacation, I went to bed and tried to pretend that I was living in the eighteen-hundreds (please read again Number Two on my list, Reader Dear).  In the cabin we had electricity, of course, to keep us warm and cook our food.  We had running water.  I tried to put technology and all other modern inventions out of my mind.  I ignored the small radio in a corner of the cabin.  I imagined that there was a horse-drawn wagon outside the door to get us home*.  I tried not to think about the possibility of a tenant with an extreme emergency.  I was so happy to live, albeit briefly, with no knowledge of the outside world.

Far from the madding crowd.

It was blissful!

*When a tiny snake entered Eden and our transportation home was put into jeopardy, I started re-thinking the horse-and-wagon trek; it didn't seem all that idyllic after all.

....To be continued.