Two Saturdays ago, Marc and I drove up to NYC for dinner. His sister Louise, her husband Gord, and Gord's sister Barb were there for the Victoria Day weekend. They had arrived Friday and were returning to Canada on Monday. While we had considered an overnight while they were there, we realized there was too much going on that weekend, with Nick's confirmation and soccer, so we decided to just drive up for a dinner date.
The weather was iffy, potential rain in the forecast. Rather than the train, Marc figured we'd be OK driving all the way into midtown on a Saturday. By we, I mean him! I've driven in NYC once in my life, and that was enough. The drivers, the cabs, the honking and my lack of knowledge of the city made for a stressful drive, so I've never wanted to do it again.
Marc is one of those people who can visit a place once, return five years later, and is still able to find his way around. I'm one of those people who visits a store in a mall and gets disoriented coming out! So driving in NYC isn't for me. But Marc's been there many times and knows it well.
At the last minute we decided to take Marc's little yellow convertible (we call it his mid-life crisis car!) It was fun, but I needed one of those Grace Kelly scarves wrapped around my head. I had the sunglasses, but nothing for my hair, which was well on its way to forming its own dreads by the time we got there!