a place called Atalaya

One of the places Beth took me two weekends ago was a lovely, historic beach home named Atalaya (Spanish for watchtower). Built by a businessman for his sculptor wife, it sits feet from the beach, a refuge for Archer and Anna Huntington. The perfect introverts’ sanctuary since it has no guest quarters. On purpose. I so get these people.

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Ok, so from the outside, it doesn’t look all that incredible. I mean, the teal is cool, but just wait until we get inside…

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But first we have to appreciate the teal door. I mean, hello. Teal.

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And hello, Atalaya.

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Oh, a beautiful courtyard, how terrible. That just won’t do. Said no one ever.

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A door in Anna’s outdoor sculpting area.

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Anna made all the wrought iron pieces covering the windows.

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Clearly she had some skill with iron.

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And I held up the people behind us so I could get this shot. What can I say? I have a thing for hallways. And the teal door at the end made it the perfect choice for a focal black & white effect.

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I cannot get enough of these awesome textures.

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It almost makes me want to paint every door in my house teal.

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Believe me, if I could move into Atalaya, I would have. Even if I had to sleep in the icebox.

Many thanks to this lady for introducing me to Atalaya. And for playing “we’ve been murdered!” with me. (Refer to this post for proof.)

Thursday I’ll share pics of the beachfront part of our adventure . . .

Birthday corpses!

“And then you’ll go around a tree in the road,” she added.

Surely my Bluetooth was breaking up. A tree in the road. Sure. It was kinda funny, actually.

“I’m sorry . . . what was that?” I queried, wondering what Beth actually said.

“There’s this tree in the road. It narrows to one lane . . .”

I found myself wondering why someone didn’t remove the tree. I come from hurricane country. When a tree is in the road, it’s because a bad storm knocked it over but eventually someone goes out there with a chainsaw and gets some firewood out of it.

“It’ll make sense when you see it.”

I had my doubts. As promised, the road narrowed around what I can only assume was an historic tree, since it was not in fact lying across the road. It stood upright in the middle of what would have been my lane, the curb graciously curving around it.

We have a lot of historic stuff around the DC area but I can’t say I’ve seen a road narrow to accommodate a tree (because, let’s be honest, as serious as we are about history, we’re also serious about traffic). Whatever its significance, it left me laughing.

And thus began my birthday weekend of fabulousness. I cannot thank this lady enough for letting me monopolize her time and for creating a birthday adventure.

A few highlights:

We devoured some of the best cupcakes known to mankind. (I can neither confirm nor deny that I ended up with frosting on my nose. Didn’t even notice. It was that good.)

 Delicious cupcakes

Posed as corpses in an historic icebox (which, for all we know, has seen real corpses! And according to Beth, I make a convincing corpse. That’s going on my tombstone.).

Corpses!

And spent an afternoon at the beach (complete with sand in our teeth. Because you haven’t truly had a beach day until you’ve got sand in your teeth.).

Beach!

In short, I had a fantastic birthday weekend.

More pictures of the adventure will be coming next week. (I’m going to be a tad busy this week, but I’ll tell you all about that on Thursday . . .)