Part Two (& Last) of Travel Diary: Being There

I feel soooo much better for having unloaded my angst and frustration about travel in the previous post- you know, "venting" as they say- so now I can just skip the part about the six hours on the plane (well, seven if you count boarding, taxi-ing and waiting interminably on the runway) as if it never really happened!

Day Something or Other
It's one of those perfect, eighty-degree-ish, low humidity, halcyon blue skies, Wizard of Oz clouds of cotton candy floating serenely overhead creating a kind of fairy tale canopy.

I'm sitting on an uncrowded beach in Newport, soaking up the energy, basking in the warm, soothing light, getting fried and not realizing or caring, and the Nootch is running down to the shore in her two and a half year old doll's bathing suit. 

This almost makes it all better. . . you know, all that stuff I said in the previous post about traveling. . . almost. . . .

Oh, and you know what the little elf says when a bedtime story is over? Get this- it's amazing-
                                The End!!!!