Our first Memorial Day/Birthday weekend at home in 30 years.

Coachella was cancelled as was our Mexico island getaway so we created Coronafest.

Each day our staycation commenced at 6am…fresh brewed coffee, lox and bagels with all the trimmings and out the door by 6:30am.

Saturday and Sunday we walked to the beach.

We ordered low tide and the powers that be delivered.

Very few humans were romping so we were mostly alone with the porpoises on the wide stretch of beach that we traveled towards the Santa Monica Pier.

Saturday, after our beachpalooza we grabbed coffee and a scone at the pandemically responsible Sweet Lady Jane in Santa Monica and then hit the road with the top down and drove to Oxnard along the coast.

After 7 hours of rare sunlight exposure we settled down to 3 seasons of Luther with the charismatic Idris Elba and the tantalizingly dangerous Ruth Wilson.

Around 7pm I turned into a more chilllaxed unWaspy Martha Stewart and in 45 minutes whipped up salmon marinated in a honey, brown sugar, Worcestershire and soy glaze, sour cream and rosemary infused potatoes, stewed blueberries, brownies, Caesar dressing and homemade croutons.

Satiated, we were back to savoring the intrigue and deflecting the inherent violence of Luther.

Sunday was Saturday revisited along with an ailing duck beach rescue which took 8 phone calls to reach the correct source (no wonder people hesitate about getting involved) and then we took a 70 mile road trip through Manhattan Beach, Hermosa Beach, Redondo Beach ending with exploring by car all the nooks and crannies Palos Verdes had to offer.

Starving, we maneuvered  a safe distancing foray at Uncle Bill’s in Manhattan Beach, found a spot overlooking the beach and chowed down.

We arrived home by 2pm to tangle with Luther for 2 more seasons.

Monday in Malibu at sunrise, a road trip to Ventura and a spooky canyon drive high in the mountains rising above the coastal fog.

Deer Creek Road was painted with towering red rocks, barren terrain, an isolated landscape that could have been frightening if the sun was obscured and remnants of Luther were not lingering in our mind.

We did not encounter a single human, car or alternate mode of transportation on the twisting, narrow road.

Home, we donned sunglasses, plugged in the patio water wall and read with Aperol Spritz in hand…how I craved my 5 o’clock Mango Margarita that the Mawimbi beach boys delivered before sunset with home guacamole and chips.

During these trying times you work with what you have, creating your own little getaway.

And my other weekend takeaway is I deplore lengthy Q & A conversations. TU, LOL, TTYS, AOC (I thought this was political, but stands for Available On Cell) so just freakin’ call me!