Aron surprised me and planned a last-minute overnight getaway to Tahoe this weekend! It was amazing. It took us just two hours to get up to Incline Village, where we quickly checked into the Hyatt and ran downstairs to the spa for a couples massage.
What’s awesome is that once you book a treatment, you can use the spa facilities all day–so we went in and out a few times. You could even come and go by swimming out, if you wanted to!
The weather couldn’t have been much more ideal; shoulder weekends just before (and after) the Memorial Day-to-Labor Day crunch are a good time to visit.
Some people were even swimming in the lake! It may look inviting, but frankly I think those folks are crazy. The water temperature averages around 50-degrees-Farenheit this time of year!
Fun facts: Lake Tahoe is the second deepest lake in the United States and the tenth deepest in the world, with a maximum depth measured at 1,645 ft (501 meters!) and an average depth of 1,000 ft (305 meters), according to the US Geological Survey. It has 72 miles of coastline.
The hotel helped us celebrate our anniversary (we like to stretch these things out whenever possible) by setting out some chocolate covered strawberries and champagne.
Though it appeared they shook it up for us, first. Ha!
I loved the hotel’s aesthetics. Completely renovated last year, it’s gorgeous: all stone and wood and very reminiscent of the sort of grand, historical lodges you might find in our National Parks—like the Ahwahnee in Yosemite.
On Sunday, after ordering room service for breakfast, we checked out bikes for an hour and rode along the Lakeshore drive (gawking at homes you can buy for a cool 18 million and pausing to practice skipping stones), before sitting down to lunch. Can’t believe that such a breathtaking place is just over 100 miles away.
I’m actually really looking forward to returning with Hudson, but it sure was nice of his grandparents to give us a weekend alone (attempt no. 2)!
Pop the champagne: we have finally closed the sale on it. Despite finding a buyer within the first two weeks of listing it last year, and then finding another the week after Hurricane Sandy hit, we endured months of obstacles to get to the point of finally saying “sold!” just over a couple of weeks ago.
Now that I’m sure I won’t jinx anything, I can look back and say aloud what a pain in the arse it is to hold an open house—especially when the entire house you’re selling is visible the moment you walk in the door. It was only two weeks, but during those two weeks the apartment was listed, we had someone coming to see it every day.
Let’s just say that I finally understand why anyone would iron their sheets.
I remember reading in shelter magazines, like Domino, that ironing one’s sheets was something one does—and being a bit shocked. And then, Martha Stewart dedicated a portion of an eponymous episode to showing off an amazing rotary iron
at which she liked to sit and press sheets during restless nights.
My first thought was ‘that sounds like hell.’ Sleeplessness and ironing?! But for years I’ve wondered about the secret to a well-made bed—the kind that you’d find in a fancy hotel (and the kind that someone wants to see in a home they’re considering buying)—and I’m afraid pressed sheets, as unrealistic as they may be, might be the answer.
Sigh…
P.S. We cheated: I took our sheets to a launderer to have them pressed before the photographer came, and then slept without pillowcases, and went over the top edges of the sheets with an iron every morning while Hudson was strapped in his high chair. Did I mention it was a pain in the butt?
