HONEYMOON - Day 4, Recovery

As it turns out, 8 hours of rigorous hiking when you're not in the best of shape lends itself to an achy morning after. So we spent today in recovery mode. And a gloriously relaxing day it was.  We began with a breakfast of eggs, toast, ham, and delicious baked fruit with our week-long host... then I went promptly back to bed while my other half did a little writing and reflecting.

Next stop: a viewing of Captain America at the adorable local cinema (where they only took cash to purchase the $6 tickets), followed by a quick stop to Payless to pick up a pair of "loafing" shoes. Then I made a trip to the grocery store to get some fixins for the grill. And I grilled a wonderful dinner, if I do say so myself! Corn on the cob, pork, potatoes and a medley of vegetables - brussels sprouts, onions, peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms... yum, yum.

After dinner, we took the dishes inside and this somewhat hilarious, somewhat horrible scenario ensued: Jon went in first, opening the screen door and leaving it open while he headed into the bathroom. I followed a minute later and shut the screen door behind me, thinking to myself "Should I tell Jon I shut the screen door? No - it'll be fine. I'll just go put these leftovers in the mini fridge in the other room." And so I did. And as I opened the door to the mini fridge - not 10 feet from our bedroom - I heard a loud and awkward crashing noise... and I already knew what happened. I hurried back to our room to see the space where the screen door used to be wide open, the screen door mangled on the patio outside, and Jon getting up from the patio holding his upper left arm with his right hand. He was fine. The screen door was not. Our wonderful hosts were already asleep, so we knew we'd just have to deal with it in the morning.

We felt so bad about it - we were so worked up - that we had to immediately get into the jacuzzi and relax. (Kidding! Kind of. We did feel terrible. But we also got into the jacuzzi mere moments later.)

The worst/funniest part of the screen door saga? When we arrived on Saturday afternoon, Carol showed us the screen door that was off its hinges, leaning up against our patio entrance... and she said Paul would be fixing it tomorrow or the next day. To quote her (and you must read this as if a nice, older, English lady was saying it with humor): "Stupid Americans keep running into the screen door." She laughed. We laughed. Paul fixed the door on Monday. We broke it on Tuesday. Stupid Americans.