.....

STILL SCOOPING UP THE PAST, Dear Reader, but this time the not-so-distant. It was only night before last that I spent the evening alone with the Little Actor. * My camera was whirring madly.

First there was the playground:





Then the faux playground.






Followed by a brief attempt to get into the not-quite NBA.



Rather unsuccessfully, sad to say,



but a good life lesson, anyway:
Tall people call the shots.



Not to fret--on the long walk home,
playgrounds spring up when least expected.



And then there's supper!



And a short stint as chef-in-training.



After which it's bath, bed and beyond....



When I've got it spliced together and edited, Dear Reader.
I'll need a title for my brand-new feature-length movie.
I'm thinking: It's a Wonderful Life. That has a positive ring.
Perhaps: A Star is Born. Or maybe (the
Little Actor lives on the west side of town):
West Side Story.




......
(*Not to be confused, Reader Dear--
I've now got two leading men,
both of them heartthrobs!)
......

......

I'M SCRAMBLING TO MAKE up for lost time! It was a whole entire week ago that I got to roll into production mode and give a starring role to my newest young leading man!

The Small Actor* happened to be visiting the same southern area as I was, and stayed for the weekend.
And can you believe it, Reader Dear, what with the photogenic and well-loved Small Actor at the ready, and the picturesque and historical location in which to film, I've got only two movies featuring him!


Not to worry, my camera's stuffed with stills!
We were in Williamsburg, Virginia, after all. And the day was lovely.



After a buffet brunch for the Small Actor's entourage, featuring a quite heavenly chocolate cupcake, and a sublime slice of cheesecake on my dessert plate,




the Small Actor himself had brunch, while those not serving his meal lolled around in the many hallways of the Williamsburg Lodge, pondering the paucity of persons there.



And then walked out onto the charming brick sidewalks of
the Colonial area, with the clip-clopping horse-drawn
carriages, tidy house gardens, small outdoor markets,



and a joie de vivre in the air that causes one to dream about living in a simpler time and place (even as one is enumerating to oneself the very real drawbacks, and reminding oneself that this is, after all, a vacation spot; most of the people here should be in a pretty good mood!)





























The yard man and I lost track of the hour, since we were not wearing tri-cornered hats and using the sun as our timepiece; and since we were having such a pleasant afternoon; and since we avoided looking at the info displayed on our cell phones (pretending they were not invented**) because we did not wish to say goodbye to the Small Actor and his caretakers.

But eventually that little V.I.P. got hungry again, and we realized the afternoon was waning.

We gave the thoroughly modern little guy and his parents a parking lot farewell, stepped into our thoroughly modern car (uh, well, relatively speaking) and left the colonial period
behind as we headed home.
......



*(Not to be confused with the Little Actor,
whose career is being advanced by an advancing vocabulary!)


**(In the interest of full disclosure, it was only I,
Dear Reader, imagining thus. And what I imagine
now is a new invention that brings the dear Small Actor
to my studio [might as well just pretend that I have one] in an instant
to star in my movies whenever I wish!)


......

......

GOODNESS ME...WHERE ARE WE?! I've got to get you across the Chesapeake Bay, Reader Dear! Heavens, I've got other things to blather about, and we've been traversing this bridge for a week! The bridge-tunnel is long, of course, but not that long!
We've got sixteen more miles to go:



As we're zipping along over this body of water and through the two tunnels, I'll just tell you about the first time I saw this great marvel of a bridge-tunnel. It was during the week of the Grand Opening! (Uh-huh, yes, yes, a long time ago). The year, in fact, was 1964! My father, being a great one for adventure of any kind (most of his life adventures being vastly more momentous than bridge-crossing) decided to load his family into the old (although likely not so old at that time) green and white Ford Fairlane, and go investigate this grand bay-spanning structure. We'd have an outing!

And so we did. Back on that day there were numerous uniformed men patrolling the tunnels, strolling up and down the narrow catwalks, or perched on their glassed-in seats located at intervals. And, uhm, my most enduring memory of the whole event, Reader Dear, is the attempts by my sister and myself to get those patrolling men to respond to our animated waving. Ahem, as was noted earlier, please note that was many long years ago, Dear Reader.




And now...now here we are, with light at the end of the (second) tunnel,



and visible land when we emerge. I think it's
safe to say I've gotten you safely to the other side!
(At any rate, it's the last clip I recorded, so you'll
just have to have faith that you're now on solid ground.)

The yard man and I, we then made our way north through
rush-hour traffic, to arrive at our
final destination just in time for
this scene:

which, Dear Reader, I've shown
you numerous times, and will
likely go on showing you until
such a date as this Old Home Place
has changed hands, and I'm no longer
entitled to meet here with my siblings
for the weekend,




and stroll around the property,











and meander through the wooded area,







and reminisce around the remains of the Model-T Ford that that twin brother of mine propped up on cinder blocks forty-some years ago,












and relax on the pier,

and...


Oh, Dear Reader, I'm Scarlett O'hara and this is my Tara*! I'll think about that tomorrow!





...
(*Okay, not quite that grand,
and no slavery of any kind,
unless you wish to count
the washing of dishes,
sweeping of floors,
and all those other bothersome, unpaid chores.)
...

......




......

AHA!!

......




(Small package arrives from "Shipping Manager"
Newport News, Virginia)

...

...

QUESTION OF THE DAY:
"Where," I inquired of my yard man, "is the power cord to my laptop?! Have you seen it anywhere?"
Dear Reader, after some sleuthing on my part (well, a phone call to Saturday night's lodging facility) I discovered it resides in the Lost and Found of the Comfort Suites hotel in Newport News, Virginia.
Therefore, arrrgh...I'm gasping for battery power as I post, Reader Dear.

Southern news of my trip
down country will have to
trail the
cord.
...