Our last full day at the Hope and Glory Inn was warm, bright, and sunny.  The chef fixed corn biscuits (sort of like fritters), sausage gravy, tender scrambled eggs, and fruit--enough food to last us all day.  The peonies opened and shook out their shaggy heads during the warm spell.  As much as I love roses--and the fragrance of the masses of rose beds here was enough to make you dizzy--I'm a fool over peonies.

We drove south to the Middle Penninsula.  In Gloucester Court House, incorporated in 1651 (there are some very old places, particularly in the Tidewater area, though I was shocked to learn Kilmarnock, settled in the mid-1600s too, was incorporated in 1930.  1930?)  Gloucester is very charming--all the old buildings wear daffodil wreaths.  Settlers brought their daffodil bulbs from England and let the naturalized bulbs spread.  In the 30s and 40s, daffodils were the major industry in the "Daffodil Capitol of America."  We ate raspberry scones at a sweet little bakery, then had them fix us a sack lunch of salads and sandwiches.

We drove north to Urbanna and ate our lunch in the marina on Urbanna Creek.  I did a little junkin' but mostly talked to the townspeople.  One lady carried a dachshund puppy into her shop.  I followed her in, smitten by the puppy.  I held him, enchanted by his warmth (happiness really is a warm puppy!), his solid little body, and quiveryness under his tight skin.  He smelled wonderful.  Then we headed back to the Inn.


The gardens beckoned.  I read and strolled.  The Inn has a delightful outdoor clawfoot bathtub painted purple, an old sink, and a rainfall shower, completely enclosed by a high board fence.  Inside it's a bower of hanging baskets, potted flowers, vintage mirrors, and a shabby birdhouse where a treefrog lives.  The night before they are married, brides take a long luxurious bath under the stars.  


On our way out to dinner, I noticed a dove's nest tucked into a wisteria arbor over a doorway of one of the other cottages.  Three wary but very cute baby mourning doves stared down at me.  Nobody moved, nobody blinked.  I could have reached up and touched one.  They were pretty big, almost ready to leave the nest they spilled out of.  After dinner, we came back to read more.  People think that because I work at home I get to read whenever I want.  I only read at lunch time and a little before I go to bed.  Having huge uninterrupted blocks of reading time is a real luxury!

That night, our last, I left the balcony door and curtains open again and watched the day slowly drain from the sky.  It was with great reluctance I finally closed the door on the soft air and the day . . . as I went to sleep I wondered if I could trade that puppy for Winchester.