New Year's Day

Martha told her mother yesterday that we had made plans for New Year's Eve:  reservations at a good place to eat, with an early seating right in front of a roaring fire in the fireplace, good service, and the kind of music we like.  The place?  Our own home.  Martha had prepared "small bites" - deviled eggs, smoked salmon croquettes, stuffed mushrooms, and Port Salut cheese (my own contribution) - and it was the best possible New Year's Eve celebration..

We take turns writing on the little blackboard in the kitchen during the year, and at the end of the year we enjoy reading them all, remembering what we have said and thought and felt.  The last entry was mine, chalked on the board this very evening:  "I can see a New Year coming – I’ve got 2020 vision!"  After our light dinner, we retired to the Sun Room to watch a slide show that I had prepared of all the places we had traveled in 2019, beginning with Atlantic Beach and including our trip to Britain and Ireland.  It was wonderful to revisit all of those places, and we talked about that and about the places we hope to visit in 2020 - a new year, a new decade.

The next morning, we awoke early as I prepared to go to Highlands for the 18th Annual Resolution Run which I have organized for many years.  As I was preparing to leave, Martha told me that she had been thinking about something I had mentioned yesterday, the option of possibly leaving a day earlier than planned for Atlantic Beach.  I had said it only half-seriously, but now the idea made a lot of sense.  We were already (mostly) packed, and the weather forecast called for rain all day on Thursday.  We quickly agreed to the plan; Martha cancelled the previous hotel reservation and made a new one, and I headed up to Town with much on my mind while she stayed home to complete packing.

Despite the wind and cold temperature, we had a good turnout - about 35 runners in all, including at least two very impressive snowy-coated canines.

I returned home as quickly as possible to complete our packing and load up the car.  After a light lunch, we were on the road!

Traffic was surprisingly light for New Year's Day and we encountered no rain at all; we arrived at the Historic Brookstown Inn in Winston-Salem before dark.  This historic converted cotton mill is surely one of our favorite places to stay on the way to the coast, and among the many delights is the hotel cat, Sally, who greets guests in the lobby.  Sally was comfortably ensconced in one of the chairs.

We called Martha's aunt Lizette to let her know that we were planning to see her a day earlier, and she gave us some very sad news.  Her cousin, Robert Bashford, had just died the previous day.  We had first met this remarkable man last March at Lizette's 90th birthday party.  Dr. Robert Bashford, a psychiatrist, professor and associate dean at the UNC School of Medicine, left behind a legacy of service to his profession and praise from colleagues and friends.  We are only sorry that we did not have the opportunity to know him more than our brief encounter had permitted.

Read more here: https://www.newsobserver.com/news/local/education/article238911048.html#storylink=cpy

It had been a long journey, and we were tired.  We had not expected to leave today, nor had we expected to hear this sad news.  But it was lovely being in a safe port, on our way across the rough seas to Lizette's oceanfront condo in Atlantic Beach, here at the Historic Brookstown Inn, still bedecked in Christmas decorations.