O little town of Bethlehem
This afternoon, hubby and I left home for a jaunt to Bethlehem, PA, in order to see the lovely Laurie Halse Anderson and her daughter, bookseller extraordinaire, at the Moravian Book Shop, after which we were headed to the local brew pub for dinner. Imagine our surprise when we arrived a full hour late for the event after giving ourselves an extra hour to get there. Turns out that people are stupid when it snows. Imagine our further surprise when we learned that the brew pub caught fire earlier in the day, and was therefore closed for the evening.
This sounds, of course, like a disastrous day, but really, it wasn't so bad. The traffic there was hellatious, but the roads were mostly clear and entirely jam-free on the way home, so that worked out okay. And in lieu of the brew pub, we went to a pretty terrific Italian restaurant recommended by the Anderson clan (the garlic averse are warned away from the bread, but for those of you who, like hubby and me, are okay with some garlicky heat, the garlic bread is to die for).
And I did, after all, get to say hello to the Anderson women. And to buy a copy of Independent Dames, which Laurie signed for me -- after all, I may have an F&G, but nothing compares to an actual book.
This sounds, of course, like a disastrous day, but really, it wasn't so bad. The traffic there was hellatious, but the roads were mostly clear and entirely jam-free on the way home, so that worked out okay. And in lieu of the brew pub, we went to a pretty terrific Italian restaurant recommended by the Anderson clan (the garlic averse are warned away from the bread, but for those of you who, like hubby and me, are okay with some garlicky heat, the garlic bread is to die for).
And I did, after all, get to say hello to the Anderson women. And to buy a copy of Independent Dames, which Laurie signed for me -- after all, I may have an F&G, but nothing compares to an actual book.