Special Day

Now I've never been much for holidays. Half of them were made up by Hallmark to drive business. Valentine's Day wasn't enough. We now also have Sweetest Day on the third Saturday of every October. And, I'm sorry, but Secretary's Day?

Once when I was young I asked my Dad, "When's Kids' Day?" When he stopped laughing he said, "Every day is Kids' Day."

Quite frankly, every day with Barb is a celebration. But it was still nice to mark our specific memories of that special day.

I even decided to follow traditional gifting guidelines for a third anniversary - leather and/or crystal. That's different for me. I bought Barb a leather briefcase. I've caught her several times now with her cheek on the briefcase smelling the leather. I also bought her a crystal ring holder. I had no idea whether she'd like such a thing. But she seems to.

Whew. I'm not the best gift giver. I usually give people something like a bongo drum.

Last night we went for dinner at the Accomac Inn in Wrightsville, directly across the river from Marietta. If the river wasn't 40-feet deep around Marietta I could drive straight across the river and it would take us a minute or two to get there.

The Accomac is one of this area's finest and most unique restaurants. It's a historic site, having been one of the first west shore settlements along the river in this area and the site of the early Anderson's Ferry crossing. The restaurant is a dramatic, stone structure with a panoramic view of the Susquehanna River.

To get to the Accomac you have to leave civilization in Wrightsville and head north into hilly woods. The road to the Accomac is named "Dark Hallow." You know you're in for a ride when the road is named that. Before long the woods suddenly give way to a clearing right along the riverfront.

I had filet flambeed tableside. Barb enjoyed the fish special, a Fluke stuffed with lobster mousse.

Did you ever feel that you were in a time and place that just felt like you were dropped into some Hollywood movie scene?

That's how it felt last night. Barb was decked out in a gorgeous summer dress, looking like a movie star. The sunlight streaked through the windows mixing with candlelight to give our corner table a dramatic flair.

The sun sunk to the horizon along the river as we just stood arm-in-arm, soaking in the crystal clear crispness of undisturbed nature. Only a water tower rose above the trees, across the river in the distance. Barb gave me a peck on the cheek.

Barb often asks me where I was 20-years ago. "Looking for you," I answer.