Phil and I just returned from a seven day trip to Washington D.C. to visit with our girls. We took a "Built for Two" that parks easily in a normal parking space and headed down the road.
I love that little "Built for Two", with it's side by side twin beds that go up and down with the press of a button. The first night out we "camped" at America's favorite camping spot---Walmart. We needed some of that toilet paper that turns into mush when it hits water, we also needed some of that make-up that is made specially for old women, it goes on with a sponge that disintegrates after two uses. Anyway, after driving ten or more hours we made it to the edge of Ohio and decided to stop. At 10PM this particular Walmart was filled with different types of people, gang types with nylon head wraps, they wouldn't move out of your way so you found yourself sidestepping through the isles. I wasn't real happy about spending the night in that parking lot, but while I was inside Phil had found a nice spot directly under a pole that held a bright light and security camera. We figured if we were going to get killed there would be a nice video of it for posterity. It was funny, because when we woke up the next day we found ourselves the center of a group of various types of vehicles, vans, cars, other RV's, all of which showed up sometime during the night but we never heard a thing.
We moved on the next day---needing to be in D.C. by at least 4PM. We took the southern route, choosing to not go around Chicago. Phil had made the trip a few weeks before and noticed that the eastern traffic was at a standstill around the city, so we figured it would only be worse over the holidays. Southern Illinois, Indiana and Ohio are. . .well, there is not other word but boring. Nothing to see really, just flat land. Once we hit West Virginia things started perking up and by the time we were in PA, MD and VA we felt the familiar feel of being "home", even though the east coast wasn't our home anymore.
We got lost in D.C., the name of the road was different from what Celia had told us, we drove through D.C. but much had changed since Phil lived in the NE section back in the 70's. We could "see" the capitol but we couldn't seem to "get" there. The map wasn't any help, the roads we were "on" didn't match up with the roads we were "on". Finally, we arrived, there was a parking space right in front of Celia and Margaret's apartment. Celia was waiting to greet us. Ahhhhhh.
The apartment is on a neat, but busy, street lined with interesting shops and restaurants. Across the street is the oldest Army post in America. Celia says every morning she is awakened by "Taps" and band music. I think that's pretty neat. The apartment itself is at the top of two long stairways. It was half way up the second staircase where my knees would give out and I would have to push hard to make it the rest of the way up, huffing and puffing. The inside of the apartment was really nice, high ceilings, a huge brick wall, wood burning fireplace, hard wood floors. The big room consisted of the living area, dining area and kitchen, separated by a huge wooden island. An Ikea purchase Celia and Margaret are fond of. Following the long hallway down and to the left, was their bedroom, and a nice size bath. There is a door and balcony/fire escape off the bedroom, a nice little area for hanging plants or for slipping out the backdoor (if need be).
Margaret and Celia went the extra mile, the apartment was neat and clean, they offered drinks and bits. We visited until it was time to head out to the Melting Pot where we used our Christmas gift from Celia and had a lovely evening of dipping and drinking.
What's nice about urban camping is after dinner we headed down the stairs and out to our RV, still parked in front of their apartment. Closed up the curtains and shades, closed the windows, turned on the generator and the AC, the flat screen TV, laid in our beds, adjusted the bed to a sitting position and we were in our own little, extremely comfortable cacoon. Privacy, no air mattress, no sharing the one bath. I love me an RV.
8th Street off of G in SE D.C. is a busy place at night, there are restaurants and bars, lots of people milling about. At around 12:30 we heard three hard knocks on the back door. Phil got up but by the time he put his clothes on and got out and looked around no one was there. We don't know if it was a cop or just someone playing a joke. We didn't sleep well the rest of the night. Surely, with all the noise outside, the cop wasn't going to tell us to turn off our generator, and we were parked legally. So. . . . we didn't have any trouble the rest of the weekend, but we did move the RV to a quieter, more out of the way spot across the street the next day and for the rest of the visit we were fine.
Saturday morning Phil walked down to Starbucks, something that gives him much joy, and got us two coffees. When Celia and Margaret were up we visited a bit then headed down to the eastern market. What a place, I could have spent so much money!!! Vintage linens, stationery, jewelry, art work. Margaret bought a print of a painting of the eastern market for their apartment. It was beautiful. She, by the way, is starting a new job working for the Washington Post. What a girl!!! We bought Susie an herb pot for a non-sugar Easter and then stopped at a restaurant called Bread and Chocolate for brunch. Oh, it was nice. I got the way I always do, so overwhelmed by sights and sounds that I get almost punch drunk. I can't explain it---but that's what happens, especially since we have lived in Iowa.
Back at the girls apartment we played games and waited for Krista and Allison to show. Krista took a flight from NYC---$40 got her to D.C. but she didn't arrive until five. Allison didn't show until almost 7PM, missing the same road we did, then missing the second and heading west instead of east. Finally she arrived, her and her little dog too! Things went crazy, she was crying, the dog was jumpy, Angie became jumpie--YIKES. Some dog pee and worse went flying and Celia and Margaret became silent. . . . . . .their clean, neat apartment suddenly became bedlam. Phil took Angie to the RV. Allison, emancipated for the last year and a half, finds herself having trouble with the tax man. Celia sat her down later that weekend and talked budget with her, and I believe now all is well.
Easter morning we found that Allison "forgot" her candy and the candy Susie sent with her. Krista never made mention of ever having anything to contribut to the Easter weekend, except her presence. Phil and I brought the candy I had made, little lambs and bunnies, flowers and eggs, placed in cute little bags. Plus some little gifts like chinese umbrellas, little feather clips for your hair (which Margaret forgot she had on when she went outside for something---wondering why everyone was looking at her in a funny way). We ate candy, talked, Margared made crepes (yum) and it was a lovely time. We walked the dogs around the neighborhood every now and again, the houses are beautiful (and expensive) Phil and I remember when we lived in Reston back in 71. They were offering these same houses for $1!!!!! All you had to do was get a low interest loan and promise to have the house fixed up within a year. Well, two young kids, we were too scared to do it, but now the same houses are going for $800,000!!!
Krista left at four, Allison left a little later, we left somewhere in between, allowing Celia and Margaret a little rest-up time from the family before they started their busy weeks again the next day.
Phil had to pick up another RV in Staunton VA and leave our little Built for Two there. The one we picked up was still winterized, no water or holding tanks, so we hoteled it on the company the whole way back. I still use hotels when I have to, but prefer the cacoon of my own RV, my own sheets, towels.
So, we are back, my grass is green, my hostas are up about 4 inches, my tulips ready to pop, bleeding hearts almost ready to pop too. Spring has come to Iowa and it is a glorious time here. We plan to rest up from our trip and do just a little yard work, weather permitting. Holiday over, life goes on here in Iowa.
