I hate to admit it but we’ve been living just outside of Washington, DC for the past 3 1/2 years and it was only just today that we finally made it to Ben’s Chili Bowl – the iconic diner.

We continue to wait.  Six weeks plus three days and counting…  To silence the inner countdown clock, if even for just a few hours, we took ourselves on a bit of an adventure to Great Falls National Park where we took a good long hike and spent the afternoon communing with Mother Nature.  And then we stuffed ourselves with hamburgers, fries and a decadent milk shake topped with whipped cream and a cherry.  It did the trick.  Unfortunately, today the inner countdown clock is ticking louder than ever.

It should come as no surprise that I am a lover of the written word; of books.  No matter how many times we pack up and move, there are a dozen boxes of books that move with us.  Over the years I’ve downsized as much as I can, but I have my collection of true loves and I will never part with them.  So, with that thought in mind, if it’s possible to be in love with a library, then I am hopelessly in love with the Library of Congress in Washington, DC.

Washington, DC has been getting more than its fair share of headlines in this time of political and seemingly social revolution.  Is there anyone in the world who does not know where Washington, DC is and/or the fact that the city is synonymous with politics?  It is after all the heart beat of the United States.  But what many may not know is that the city itself has a lot to offer.  And, while tourism to the nation’s capital may not exactly be trending right now, don’t let the politics of the day keep you from visiting.

If we give in to fear. There are times when words absolutely fail me.  And for someone who enjoys the fine art of jibber jabber and the written word, to have words fail me really sucks.  If I could voice the speedway of thoughts and emotions that are zooming through my brain at this very moment you’d be begging me to STOP!

As we climbed the flight of stairs, to the second level of the mansion at Mount Vernon, we ran our hands over the centuries old wooden railing; the same railing George and Martha Washington ran their hands over as they climbed the stairs of their home.

When you think of spring, what comes to mind? Cherry blossoms maybe? The start of a new year, a new season or maybe, new beginnings?  I’ve always tended to wonder why we don’t celebrate the new year on the 1st day of spring, it seems so much more fitting.  A new year with the onset of spring daffodils sounds so much more serene than a new year in the dead of winter.