ANNIVERSARY TRIP TO SAVANNAH

Our anniversary trip to Savannah was glorious. It was two days and two nights of respite from life's pressures and responsibilities with freedom to go anywhere we wanted at any time we wanted. It was also a chance to "just focus on us," as Milton had said he wanted to do, and which we did (I'll be blogging about that too). This is something every couple should do once a year—to go on a getaway with just the two of you.

In Savannah, we visited historic houses (one, of the Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil fame) and churches (did you know John Wesley once pastored here, at Christ Church?), took long walks in Forsythe Park, had dinner on the riverfront, and of course ate at the famous Paula Deen's restaurant, The Lady and Sons. I even had my picture made with her. She was smiling real big on that poster!

Milton found our B&B on the Internet. The B&B had been photographed at night, and he said it was the prettiest B&B on the web. Built in the 1800s, it had been restored and was truly beautiful. We stayed in the President's Suite with its king-sized cherry four-poster and a bathroom you could get lost in. It also had a 42-inch plasma TV above the mantle, which Milton just loved.

We arrived, knocked on "the side door under the awning" which drew a dog's ferocious bark, and were finally greeted by the proprietor in the crack of the door. When she was able to get outside, we signed the paperwork on a clipboard, and she told us to take our luggage through the garden and up the 16 steps to the drawing room where we would be greeted with sliced coconut cake, cookies, coffee, soft drinks, and bottled water. After that, we were to climb the next set of stairs, and our room was "the first one you come to." I asked how many guests rooms she had. "Three," she said. "Anymore guests than us?" I asked. "No," she said. "They checked out this morning."

So we were all alone in this massive house. (Besides her; apparently she lived on the first floor.) Having heard of Savannah's ghost tours, I thought about ghosts, but I'm a Bible-memorizing Christian, and I know with a surety that the only ghost in this house is the Holy Ghost. Little did I know…

Our trek up the steep 16 steps on the streetside entrance was amply rewarded when we stepped inside. Ballroom was the first word that hit me. It was grand in scale: two huge sitting areas comprised of beautiful antique settees and chairs and tables, then a dining room suite set with a white tablecloth and china, then a huge bay window with a baby grand that was flanked by columns with white busts atop them. Tall, tall ceilings. Parquet hardwood floors. Crystal chandeliers. Lighted sconces along the walls. Elegant drapes and swags. Paintings. Rugs. And more.

After we settled in upstairs (and Milton checked out the 42-inch plasma TV), we drove to the riverfront cotton exchange where cotton had been shipped off in the 1700s and 1800s. It now houses restaurants and shops. After a leisurely seafood dinner at an outdoor restaurant where we watched the boats go by (I'm talking huge cargo ships), we strolled the bricked sidewalks then drove through the city and saw some of its historic 21 park-like squares, then returned to our room…

…for the Fruit of the Looms caper…