THE ROAD ENDS

Sooooooooo many miles, but we finally arrive at MONROE PLACE. My eyes behold Starbucks and Panera Bread smack dab in front of my new 'temporary' home. I believe I'm going to like living in Herndon, Virginia.



After countless trips toting our belongings (can anyone say, "kitchen sink?") up to our third floor apartment, even with the elevator, we're pooped. We decide to rest today and tomorrow we’ll start investigating the area.

And that’s exactly what we do – in the RAIN!!

First on the agenda is Washington, D.C. (the place I’ve wanted to visit all my life). It’s rainy and cold, but do I mind? Heck no. I’m here to take in all the sights—whatever the weather, but I discover others in the car—not so much. Randy and Hazel refuse to get out for a Kodak moment (the little bear says his fur will molt).

We leave them in the car and stroll around the city with our umbrellas (remember this little tidbit for later), stopping in to visit one of the Smithsonian museums (I didn’t know there was more than one until they told me).

As we begin our tour, the lady security person asks to see my purse. I go to hand her my stylish little number, but soon realize I’m still attached to it. The strap is over my head. AND in my attempt to extricate myself from its hold, I notice the woman steps away from her station and looks as if she’s swatting flies. That’s strange? I finally get the strap over my head and lay my purse on the counter. She looks through it and deems it worthy to visit the museum, too.

Still standing next to her, I put the strap over my head and at that moment I understand why she backed up, (‘cause she’s doing it again). The reason: I’m flailing my weapon (umbrella) at her.

OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!

Without hesitation, security lady states, “all umbrellas go over there.” She points to an area next to the front door.

R. and I sprint over and deposit them into the holders before another mishap occurs and then proceed to the nearest escalator.

Now, if you think the saga ends here—it doesn’t. We go upstairs to check out more of the contemporary art displays. As you know with this type of artful expression, it’s sometimes way out there. . .kind of like what is sitting in front of us at this moment. Stacks of UPS boxes and broken display cases line the perimeter and center of the room. Tags say they’re pieces of ART.

In the middle of viewing the ‘art’ I hear an incessant beeping noise and mention the fact to R. He says he hears it too and can’t figure out where it’s coming from. I see a security guard and decide to ask her what it is, but she beats me to it.

“Do you hear that noise?” she asks us.

“Yes and it’s annoying,” I say with a chuckle.

“The reason it continues to beep is because you’re walking too close to the exhibits.” She points to tape about a foot out from the display. “You need to stay outside of that line.” Her smile assures me we aren’t going to get arrested for our second offense.

From this point R. and I take wide sweeps of the remaining display areas and don’t have any more encounters with security. Two is plenty in an hour.

We walk over and pick up our weapons (oh, I mean umbrellas) on the way out and decide to call it a day since it’s still raining. Not to worry, though, I’m coming back. So much yet to see in Washington, DC (the city I FINALLY got to visit).

Love ya,
nettie

PS: Stay tuned—more to come from my Back East Bloglog (and next time I promise more photos of our adventure).