Now I am over the shock of turning...um...ah...oh shit...fifty. Oh yes, sooo over it.
So, let's get back to where we left off just before that b..b..b.b.birth.d.d.day.
On vacation in Nova Scotia in early September. We headed up to Cape Breton Island. It is spectacular and rugged, much of it national park. We hiked in the brilliant, fall-kissed sunshine. Our first morning we hiked to Ingonish beach and around the lake behind it. I have never seen such a beach: Salt water on one side, and a freshwater beach behind the long spit. Except for a few terns and gulls, we had it to ourselves.
Then we took Middle Head trail out to the end of a peninsula for a picnic lunch high on the headland.
Late in the afternoon, with pleasantly achy leg muscles, we got back to our:
Backpacker's hostel? no...
Because we were staying at the luxurious, decadent, way out-of-our-budget Keltic Lodge. This was a birthday gift from my generous parents. If you ever want to treat yourself, oh man, this is the place to do it. Look:
When the third course of our four course dinner was served B whispered: "Which fork do we use this time?"
I shrugged. Even If I knew, I could not have answered. My mouth was full of lobster. Succulent, pink and white, tender lobster, drenched in fresh squeezed lemon. This was worth turning fifty for! Thanks Mom and Dad.