Food coma

Just finished the most luscious hunka pork roast I have ever been served, along with some delectable potato concoction and green beans .... and, OK, a pair of pomegranate cosmopolitans. Which means I am now ready for bed at an hour earlier than any time in my life since grammar school. But it's a good, comfortable exhausted. Part too much food, part fabulous facial and hot stone massage, part three solid hours of shopping. (Who knew I would love pewter so much?)

I have had a lovely trip. I am relaxed and only think about my oldest friend and her daughter and what they're doing to my brochure back at the office occasionally. The only real dark cloud on my horizon is worrying about the exceptional young people I flew here with. On my flight from O'Hare to Richmond were more than half a dozen kids en route to deployment at Langley Air Force Base. On the one hand, flying with them was a comfort because when we hit turbulence, they couldn't have been more nonchalant. Here I was, surrounded by young people with exceptional reflexes and relevant knowledge of planes and they didn't think our rocky flight was worthy of notice. Hurray! On the other hand, though, as one young man leapt from his seat to help me (unasked) slip my suitcase into the overhead, I thought, "Please, God, don't let him die." It's weighing heavily on me. But that's life, and as my shrink reminds me, "bad is part of life." I can't let the bad obscure the good.

So while I plot ways to help those serving us, I will also curl up in my fantabulous four poster bed, eat Fig Newtons, enjoy American Idol, and relish every moment spent here in Colonial Williamsburg thus far. More details and photos when I get home. (I promsie, Kwiz!)