It’s been a bit of a whirlwind week since I blogged here last. Airplanes, hotels, rental cars, and fabulous meals inhabited my life once again, as did fun friends and beautiful places. It felt good to get out of the house and do all of that! This time, we gave Barbara a break and allowed her to stay off of Delta 1484, and I flew westbound on that MD-90 instead, joining her in Spokane for the weekend in a beautiful room at the Davenport Tower Hotel in downtown.

The Tower is a wonderful place, with a “happening” lobby that seems to be jam-packed every night, full of laughing jovial people enjoying each others’ company. There’s something in such an atmosphere that’s good for the soul. Way better than an empty spartan lobby where other guests pass through unsmiling and nobody cleans up after the so-called breakfast of fake eggs and cereal.

It’s also diagonally across the street from the Historic Davenport Hotel, owned by the same people and just as spirited, if not more so. The older Davenport was my home for a bit of the summer in 1974, when my father was managing the Spokane Indians to a Pacific Coast League championship. We had a suite on a high floor, looking down on Sprague Avenue, and my dad was mesmerized by the fact they washed the streets and sidewalks every night, with a big tanker truck spraying everything down. The reason? It was the summer of Expo ’74, and with a World’s Fair going on the city wanted everything to shine every day, for all the visitors.

The Historic Davenport was built in 1914, and it looks perfect for that period. It was the first hotel in the United States with air conditioning, a central vacuum system, and a pipe organ. When Big Del and I were there it was a dingy and dark place, worn out and run down. In 2002, it was renovated to all its former glory and if you’re ever in Spokane you should definitely visit the lobby and ballrooms, if you can’t actually stay there.

It was a marvelous weekend for us. Barbara made the commitment to take a few days off before her work revs back up to the red line in the coming days and weeks. The needle rarely ever comes off the red line for her.

We met friends Shannon and Karen for dinner at Hay J’s Bistro in Liberty Lake on Friday night, enjoying world-class cuisine and even better company. We’ve lived in a lot of great places, but I’ve never seen anything quite like Hay J’s. It’s a real asset for the Spokane area in general, and an absolute treasure for Liberty Lake.

On Saturday, we needed to drop off some laundry for Barb, at a place on The South Hill that will clean, fold, and deliver your clothes back to the hotel. As we walked in from the parking lot, I saw three guys get out of a rental car and then haul a couple of duffel bags into the cleaners. I knew immediately they were part of a sports team, and when Barb was inside she spoke with them. They were with University of the Pacific, and were in town to play Gonzaga the next night. When Barb asked why they got the short stick, she said they replied “No short stick. We’re just the lowest men on the totem pole.” Been there done that, in college and in the pros.

Next door to the cleaners is Huckleberry’s, an organic and absolutely fantastic grocery store. We used to make the drive all the way from Liberty Lake at least once a month, just to purchase their insanely good products and to feel the warmth of the vibe in the store. There’s a communal feeling in that cramped little place, as if everyone there senses the idea that they’re making a conscious effort to eat healthy and be good to themselves. At Albertson’s in Liberty Lake, everyone was simply buying groceries and looking for the best deal on an 8-pack of paper towels. There’s nothing wrong with that, because grocery shopping doesn’t have to be entertainment and I probably shopped at Albertson’s five times a week while we were living in Liberty Lake. But there’s something special about Huckleberry’s.

Inside the store is a small bistro, and we couldn’t resist eating our lunch there. It’s great food, and the portions are so big we could split a club sandwich and both be stuffed. As I sat at our table eating, I realized these are great memories of our time out there. When it’s happening, it’s so easy to just go through life and see the things you possibly don’t like, or miss the friends you’ve left behind, but on this trip we both recognized that Spokane and Liberty Lake had made a real impression on us. And despite our intention to not be too social out there, we’d made some real friends.

After dropping off the laundry, seeing the college hoops guys, and eating at the store, we drove over to the Coeur d’Alene Resort for two days and one night of pampered wonderfulness.

With a corner room on a high floor we had sweeping views of the lake and the marina, and despite the winter gloom and some lingering snow, the vistas were as magnificent as ever. Just in a slightly different way. There’s some magic to the Coeur d’Alene Resort, and it never gets old. Living there would not be a bad thing. It would not be a cheap thing, either.

We’ve been to Coeur d’Alene, and to the resort, so many times in the spring, summer, or fall months I’ve lost track. It never fails to be gorgeous, but I don’t recall us ever spending the night at the resort during the winter. I wondered if it would seem “off season” and quiet, or whether the cloudy gloom would make the views lose their stunning charm. I shouldn’t have wondered. It was a beehive of activity and the views were still magnificent. As I wrote above, they were just different. But you still couldn’t help standing at the window and staring at the lake and surrounding hills for hours on end.

Our room had a fireplace, so sitting by the flames and just watching it snow a bit was about as sublime as it can get. It was wonderful for me, to walk away from my desk after this year of writing, and all the small things I worry about. It was medicinal for Barbara. She really needed it, and she found that happy place where relaxation reintroduces itself to you. Again, good for the soul.

We roamed the streets of downtown Coeur d’Alene a little, but it was raining and sleeting a bit so we didn’t get too far. We did get far enough to find a nice store where I bought a new shirt, which totally changed my wardrobe for dinner, while Barbara fell in love with a funny (yet totally functional) hat. She loved it, and we laughed out loud messing around with it. She wasn’t going to buy it but I insisted. It’s possibly the greatest hat ever. And in Minnesota, it will come in handy. She’s nothing short of absolutely adorable, am I right? It’s the little bear ears on the sides that make it special.

Eating our dinner at the stellar Beverly’s restaurant inside the resort takes sublime to a new level. The service is impeccable, the food is off the charts, and we actually loved getting a table near the kitchen so that we could watch the chef and his sous chefs creating magic. Beverly’s has to rate in my personal Top 10. It’s nearly flawless.

We also brought our own bottle of vino, after making sure it was not on their massive wine list. If it was, the fee to have them open it would make it more expensive than just buying a bottle from the restaurant. It wasn’t, and the head sommelier came over to pour it for us. He was familiar with the vintner, but not with this particular vintage and label, so we invited him to sample it. It was like going to “Wine Appreciation 101” to listen to him describe the first sip. Fascinating stuff. And 20 minutes later, after it had “opened up” he dropped by again and we all discussed how much it had changed since he’d uncorked it. Barbara was in her element. I was mostly a bystander, but I enormously enjoyed their conversation. The wine was pretty good too!

Back in our room, we turned the lights off and lit the fireplace, reinforcing the “good for the soul” reason for being there.

On Sunday, we had a leisurely morning before heading down to yet another amazing place inside the resort. At the spa, we had aroma-therapy massages that did not disappoint. And after the sessions, we enjoyed the complimentary mimosas. The pampering was good. It was parts of two days and just one night, but it felt like an actual vacation. That would be a good thing.

After driving back to downtown, we then met great friends Claudia and Paul for dinner at Luigi’s, the longtime go-to Italian restaurant in Spokane. The service was great, the food was amazing, and the laughter never stopped. All of that adds up to another feather in the cap we call a weekend in Spokane. What a valuable thing.

If you’ve been a longtime reader, you’ll be able to connect the dots about Claudia and Paul. They were the hosts of many Christmas and Super Bowl parties, and wonderful hosts they were. Those were always great parties, and this year we had made a vow to come back out for the Super Bowl if the Seahawks were in it. Sadly, they were not and sadly Claudia and Paul said the party wasn’t the same without us. I think that’s because we always brought the giant Super Bowl betting pool.

I flew back on Monday, still reveling in the good time we had. Sometimes it’s these short but sweet getaways that end up being so special. Elaborate and well-planned vacations can be great, but sometimes the planning and complexity of it can detract from the very reason you went. This little trip was just the opposite.

Upon approach to MSP, the pilot told us it was low overcast, drizzle, but “still hanging in there around 55 degrees.” On February 20. Ridiculous. And, it was one of those approaches that proves just how talented commercial pilots are. We were in the clouds until just before touchdown. We couldn’t have been 200 feet off the ground when I saw the first landing lights, but he put it smoothly onto the middle of the runway.

When I got home, I had two fuzzy boys staring right at me as I came through the door from the garage. They typically like to play a standoffish game for a while, to make us pay for having left them, but this time I cut them off at the pass and picked both of them up. We never had to play the game and they were purring deeply within seconds. It was a fun night in bed that night, too, with my guys snuggling and walking on me until two of us got up in the morning. Buster followed us shortly thereafter. He’s always the last one to get up.

They were screaming for their breakfast, which consists daily of two Greenie dental treats each, and five or six Greenie treats that contain Omega 3s for skin and coat health. When you sprinkle a few bits of freeze-dried chicken on that, they eat all of it until their bowls are empty. Good boyz!

And as for those bowls, we have a strict rule in our house that the cats are not allowed on the kitchen island. Never. Except for the part when they get their treats or need water or just want to be there. They don’t follow rules, so we clean up a lot.

Hey, it’s their house. We just live in it and feed them.

As we all managed to get up that morning, it was obvious that this crazy weather was still in full bloom.

When I went outside to get the paper and put the trash and recycling bins back in the garage, it was unbelievable. It felt like April, although around here April can seem like December for much of the rest of the country. Yes, the winter of 2016-2017 is far from over. That’s a fact and March is typically the snowiest month here, but this year has been yet another aberration. We’ve seen more than a few of those since we arrived in 2002. A few “Polar Vortex” years have balanced it out, but this one is off the charts.

In Spokane, we passed a gaggle of geese chowing down in a park and I remarked, “Look, they still have geese here. Ours have been gone for a couple of months or more and probably won’t be back for another month or two.”

You know where I’m going with this, right?

As soon as I stepped outside on Tuesday morning, a large V formation of Canada Geese flew right over the house, mocking me with their incessant honking. And so it begins again. Watch your step!

It was also daylight, so I could better see what was too dark to notice the night before. In our yard, which recently had snow everywhere and piles as high as three feet tall along the edge of the driveway, there was but one lonely strip of snow out by the street. Two hours later, it was gone. And ice-fishing people are irate about all of this. As are snowmobilers, skiers, skaters, and snowball aficionados.

There’s a huge likelihood of serious snow tonight, and some parts of the Twin Cities might get a foot, but this is still February. I think.

As for “Bats, Balls, & Burnouts” it’s still officially out of my hands, and I’ve made a pact with myself to not even look at it until I see the first proofs. So far, I’ve been “pretty good” with that pact. Nobody’s perfect.

I’m not sure when I’ll see the first bits of layout, typefaces, and other things that will make it a real book. I’m hoping it’s very soon, but it doesn’t generally work that way. Especially with a book as long as mine. I just got off the phone with Krista Wilkerson, catching up on everything, and we talked about all of this because she asked me when I’ll be coming out to the races. My plan is to wait until I have books to bring with me, so the date and venue are still undecided. We’ll also have to see if I can keep that pact. Sure would be fun to go to Gainesville and then to Fort Myers for Spring Training like I’ve done so many times in the past, but that’s an expensive trip and I don’t need to be spending the money. Yet.

But speaking of Spring Training in Fort Myers means I’m speaking about the Twins, and when I was on my way to my flight last Friday I passed the newest restaurant at MSP, which is undergoing an enormous renovation with all kinds of new eats and stores. It’s a Twins-themed place, on the C concourse where TGI Fridays used to be. I’d call it a step in the right direction. Cool Harmon Killebrew autograph on the half-wall, and though it’s hard to see in this photo there is a huge MLB logo inside, and it’s made up of red, white, or blue painted bats. Actually, just the last few inches of bat barrels. The place is also, believe it or not, full of memorabilia and jerseys and other Twins stuff. I’ll have to go extra early next time, and have lunch there. Photos will be taken.

And speaking of baseball, we’re well into the planning stages of our annual reunion with my SIUE teammates and roommates, Lance, Radar, and Oscar. Seattle won the selection derby, and we’re looking at a few optional weekends when the Mariners will be in town. Lance is in charge of the lodging this time, so I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be staying in a roadside motel with a number in the name.

Then, over the past weekend I kept looking around at the Coeur d’Alene Resort and thinking how much the guys would dig it, especially in the summer when we can play on their world-famous golf course with the floating green. Just getting to the course from the resort is fun, because they take you there in a vintage mahogany Chris-Craft boat. I ran it past Lance, who ran it past the other boys, and we’re all in. We’ll meet up in Seattle, spend a couple of days in downtown and go to a ballgame, then fly over to Spokane and spend a couple of nights at the resort, with golf, food, and relaxation on the agenda. Then we can all fly home from Spokane. If the boys fly Delta, we can all be on the first leg together and I can get them upgraded to the front cabin. The other First Class passengers will never be the same.

Finally, another photo that won’t make the cut in the book. It’s another day, another road trip, another time to get off the bus and play ball. This time, our Paintsville Hilanders are in Johnson City, Tenn. to play the Cardinals near the end of the 1978 season.

Roy Dixon is the goofball on the right. We played together the next season, too, in Lakeland, Fla. but I’ve completely lost track of him. He went to NC State and was a fantastic outfielder and an even funnier guy (this photo notwithstanding). Through the magic of the interwebs, I’d sure like to connect with Roy again, at some point. He plays a major role in the part of the book about my minor league days. I’m second in line, with my duffel bag over my shoulder, and behind me are pitchers Pete Conaty and Chris Geason. The rest of our ragtag group lags behind.

So, as you can see there was plenty to write about this week, although only a little bit of it was about the book. Gotta keep my pact and not mess with it. It’s too late. It’s out of my hands now. Literally.

See you next week!

Bob Wilber, at your service and feeling relaxed.