Yesterday was our twelfth anniversary.
Saturday we drove down here to the in-laws in Indy, and yesterday morning left Amy with them and headed to Cincinnati.
We saw a matinee performance of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. It was a very nice, small theater — every seat had a great view of the stage, and every word was clear. On the other hand, the sort of 1920s feel (original script, but 20s costumes, music, and so on) was weirdly realized (we thought Maria looked and sounded more like a 50s NYC maid, for example). We both prefer period productions — we didn’t know in advance that this one was an adaptation. It felt a little overacted, a bit extra boisterous — perhaps a nod to 20s slapstick? Neither of us was familiar with this play — we decided we like others of his rather better.
The real kicker was seeing an ad in the brochure, for another theater’s production of Jesus Christ Superstar — we would have seen that instead if we’d known about it.
But hey — a couple hours nice and warm and peaceful, with something entertaining to watch — very good.
Nice dinner at BJ’s Brewhouse, and the next day, a leisurely stroll through two malls doing a little final Christmas shopping and buying a quilt for Amy’s bed — a quilt I hemmed and hawed over and am still second-guessing, in true Marcy-shopping style.
Again, shopping in malls doesn’t sound like a particularly romantic anniversary outing, but it was by ourselves! Only what WE wanted to look at! Our own pace! And uncrowded, too.
Thence to Metamora, a tiny village in Indiana between Cincinnati and Indy, where we were supposed to have the B&B’s anniversary suite but were given a smaller but warmer room instead. To Batesville for dinner at the Sherman House, followed by a turnover and brownies from the bakery across the street.
Breakfast was cream-cheese-filled French toast served with butter-orange sauce, sliced oranges, hot chocolate, and sausage patties — delicious.
Amy had a good time with her grandparents and caused no trouble. If she missed us, it didn’t make her miserable. I think the “worst” thing was just that Grandpa mentioned going for a walk as he was getting her ready for her nap, and so she didn’t sleep at all, but knocked on the door and asked for the walk.
Having a nasty sore throat that started Saturday night made the beginning of the trip rather miserable for me, but cough drops, Advil, hot salt water gargles, and steaming showers helped a lot, and while my energy level is still low and my head still feels rather stuffy, my throat doesn’t hurt anymore.
Oh, and I’m glad I brought my Ativan, which I haven’t needed in ages now; for whatever combination of reasons — holidays, general stress, being sick, being away from home — I had some anxiety to quell.