Roses everywhere, the motif nearly overdone from carpet to soap wrappers, wallpaper to the silver napkin rings at breakfast. It was the second day after a really good sleep before I made the connection and asked Fred the name of the place he had booked.
The odd thing, there wasn't a single rose bush in the garden, or living rose flower to be found. We had sweet tea on the porch in the most leisurely fashion and Fred smoked his bi-annual cigar. I can't wait to go back.
At our second breakfast we learned that our room, with the three small windows facing the street was where Charles Frazier spend two years writing Cold Mountain.
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1 comment:
Wow. The place looks absolutely gorgeous.
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