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… but not in West Virginia.

In my latest episode of Where’s Waldo Holly, I have once more taken to the roads and headed out in pursuit of peace, quiet and the perfect place to write.

About that.

There is no reason to be up early in the morning here … on a Saturday.

Except that Linda texted me pictures of her bedroom. Done. Beautiful. Along with an “enjoy your getaway” comment.

At 7:30.

AM.

Sadist.

But I took advantage of the early time and my location to take in some of the … hmm … words fail me. Ambiance? Scenery? Solitude? Really cool place I have found myself?

Now this is spectacular.

Sitting on a comfy chair. Sipping hot tea. Looking out over the lake.

Bubbling sounds of water from the fountain below me bounce off the walls of the turn of the century building. Last century.

Fresh air. Perfect temps. No other people around. Heaven. Enough suspense. Here is a picture of the view from where I am sitting as I write this.

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I included my foot to prove that I really am here … he he he.

Sitting out here I said to Bill, the man who handles things here (who, after being here all night, is still up and working on the setup for a reception and a family reunion later) that this porch would be perfect if it had a comfy chair and I could prop up my feet.

Moments later he  brought out a wicker chair … and a wicker ottoman … with cushions.

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Yeah. Me. Here.

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Notice the mega-hanging Boston Ferns … put out there for the various events later.

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Leaned out over so you could see the babbling stone fountain right below me that I was talking about.

And just for good measure another view of the lake.

And just for good measure another view of the lake.

In true Holly style, I have met and befriended lots of cool people here. Classic “bucket of worms” as my brother has said. Nice people are everywhere, you know.

Absolutely perfect.

OK. Except for that one speedboat out there … perfect.

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