Lovely Loudoun

A few weeks ago now, I discovered that, really, this is the prettiest place I've ever lived. Not that there weren't lovely aspects to other places, and not that Ashburn itself is attractive at all, but Loudoun County, VA, is incredibly picturesque.

I went for a drive one Saturday, just wandering along various by-ways without any destination in mind, and after I got out of Leesburg, turn after turn was just beautiful. I wasn't in the best mood when I started out, but after I headed up U.S. 15, the rolling countryside started to soften my mind. And then I came upon the Point of Rocks Bridge. (photos not mine)



While the reflection off the Potomac is beautiful, this picture doesn't even begin to capture what it's like to drive across this bridge. The blue metal framework creates an open tunnel, with the sensation of a vanishing point pulling you forward while a brilliant blue sky flashes between the baby blue struts. At the end of the tunnel, deep green foothills. To the right or left, sparkling water. I could have driven back and forth over this bride dozens of times.

But I did turn off to see what else was around. As I drove through Lovettsville and Lucketts, I passed farms that were the epitome of bucolic. Little valleys surrounded by vibrantly colored hills, 150-plus-year-old farmhouses everywhere. As I curved along the winding, scenic highways, I pulled up behind a coiled bale of hay, the top of the tractor hauling it just barely visible. I had no where to go, no timeline, and momentarily though of just puttering along behind it, but my modern mind couldn't quite slow down enough.

Further along, I came to the German Reformed Cemetery in Lovettsville. Rows upon rows of granite headstones lined the yard, many of the inscriptions completely worn away by the elements to nothing more than a rough surface colored by lichen. A crumbling silo loomed in a field just beyond the stone fence. Butterflies danced over the puddles in the gravel drive, fluttering in orange, yellow and white over the gray.

My drive also included a quick glimpse of Hillsboro, a beautiful little town studded with stone houses going back a couple hundred years. (The town is also surrounded by wineries and theoretically tourists, but there are surprisingly no good overall photos online.) At some point I missed my turn and wound up in West Virginia, which only added to my good mood. Three states in less than three hours.

A couple weeks later, the whole family spontaneously headed out to Sky Meadows State Park, technically just west in Fauquier County. We had no idea what to expect other than a no-doubt pretty view of the Shenandoah region and some Colonial reenactors. The drive out along U.S. 50 was absolutely delightful. Once we came through Middleburg, I think we were all smiling. That town is ridiculously quaint, with countless antique shops, boutiques, restaurants, taverns and early 19th century buildings. I have to take my mother back. (Again, why are there no satisfying photos?) We had unknowingly entered Virginia Hunt Country. The road from there on out was lined by neat fences, many of them stone, encircling acres upon acres of horse pastures. Signs invited you to Saturday polo matches. A neat little sign proclaiming the name of its farm was stationed at the end of each drive. The fields were as green as the gobs of money that no doubt supported them. Upperville was also lovely, but the lack of commerce of any kind definitely let us know we were out of our league. Here's the wee library.



Sky Meadows was surprisingly a lot of fun. Totally laid back, not what we expected, but fun. We spent an hour with the reenactors, who adored Abigail and let her eat their stew and biscuits, play their games, take home their corn and learn all about their sewing. They wouldn't let us leave. And then we spent another hour just wandering around the historic house's grounds and sitting on the porch. We never even hiked, though I'm sure we'll go back this fall. It was so relaxing.




And we haven't even touched Shenandoah National Park. I can't wait to see more of this area.

Welcome to the Middle West

I have returned to my family roots and taken my newer family branches with me.

The husband, daughter and I went to the greater St. Louis area for five days -- in July!, that's living on the edge! -- and had a really good time. Well, Abigail and I did. I think Brad had a surprisingly pleasant time given the sheer number of distant relatives he met.

I haven't lived in St. Louis for 22 years now, and I've now lived in the Carolinas for 12 years, but Missouri is still somehow like home. I love hearing my mom talking about where she and various family members lived. I love that there's a cemetery in the middle of nowhere where I can trace several generations of my family. I love that my simple trip to see my grandmother became a family reunion of 11 and another of 18 because that many people still live at least within traveling distance of the city.

And Missouri is beautiful. The roads carve through the hills, rocks layered in straight, buff-colored lines. I'd almost forgotten how hilly it is; Brad was reminded of the Blue Ridge foothills. And the broad, muddy rivers (particularly so right now), so different from their eastern counterparts.

We spent one day driving out to the old Buxton farm, where the road still says Buxton Acres and the Buxton headstones fill a row in the tiny cemetery, but where we are otherwise forgotten. It's eerie driving past the old house, seeing new homes where grandpa used to take us on tractor rides. And to think that once the entire valley belonged to my family. I really missed Dad as we tried to piece together the old stories for Brad and Abigail. So many questions you don't think to ask when you're 21.

We had dinner that night with Mom's nephew's and their families, then the next day was the mini-clan gathering of the Buxtons. I do miss the big family events. The afternoon at my aunt's was really nice, though, catching up with people I hadn't seen in as much as 8 years. And Brad really enjoyed my close-in-age cousins, who were thankfully much more talkative than the last couple times I saw them. Family is great.

The next day, so Brad and Abigail didn't have to spend their whole summer vacation meeting strangers, we went to the Arch. It really is so purty!




We went up, of course, and went around the Westward Expansion Museum -- which was disturbingly the same as when I went there as a little girl. The stuffed beavers weren't looking too hot, and some signage was missing. It really needs an update, lots more interactive things. I loved the museum when I was little, but that was before multimedia and I come from a family that reads all the plaques. I was disappointed it hadn't been modernized -- though of course there were two very shiny, new gift shops.

We also took a carriage ride along the river with a small pioneer girl we acquired along the way.



It was sad to leave and know that odds are we won't be back until my grandmother's funeral years from now. If it weren't so far away, Brad had enough fun with my relatives that he wouldn't be averse to going back. But now I have family on different coasts and different continents, so we must choose. Next stop, Florida at Christmas then England in the spring.

Puerto Rico

So I'm still lazy, but I'll dutifully avoid working to post some pictures!

We went to Puerto Rico about three weeks ago already and had a wonderful time. We were just in San Juan most of the time, but there is so much to see and do! And the flight was really reasonable from the States, so we highly recommend it. Brad's already talking about taking Abigail back with us -- or moving there all together. We'll see about that, but I did have fun!

We stayed out near the airport just a block from the beach, but city beaches aren't the most spectacular, so we spent the first couple days in Old San Juan. It's obviously very Latin, but there's also a LOT of American influence and everyone speaks excellent English -- so good I really didn't try much Spanish. It was a good first time abroad for Brad. The colonial city was stunning, and the food was delicious (especially the rice and beans, and pineapple juice at Cafe el Punto -- most amazing juice ever).





Then the third day, we went on a day trip, sailing on a catamaran to go snorkeling off uninhabited Icacos Island. Using the snorkel was disconcerting at first -- you felt like you had to take huge, quick breaths, which only made you feel like you were smothering -- but after you adjusted, it was the most peaceful, amazing thing to be floating over a coral reef. If you float very still, these yellow and black striped fish will swim up to maybe a foot from your hand to see what the strange thing is up there -- you can see the curiosity.



Our next stop is central Florida, though I don't think Tampa Bay will be quite so exciting. But at least we'll see lots of friends, and Abigail will have the once-in-a-lifetime chance to make the Smitties' wedding truly memorable, heh, heh, heh :)

Happy happy, joy joy!

I have a new designer!!! And it's someone I've know for years and have worked with and have absolutely no qualms abut using! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!! A huge load of stress has been lifted.

We have been to and obviously returned from Puerto Rico. We had a wonderful time and I have wonderful pictures, but sadly I am lazy! I will post this week, though. It was an amazing trip.

An appetizer:

Hola, San Juan!

(This is all sung.)

I'm going to Puerto Rico! I just got a great deal on plane tickets! It's going to be so much fun! I just cannot wait! We get to lay on the beach and eat good food and see lots of cool colonial things. I'm going to Puerto Rico -- I'm just not thinking about how expensive the hotel is going to be yet!

The purge

So it's time to update all this. I thought I'd start chronologically, but then, heck, everyone just wants to see Halloween anyway, right?



I made that (with Mom's help)! Isn't it great? Okay, so it's not PC, but it's great! (And I'm going to take Abigail to the Catawba's Yap Ye Iswa Festival this weekend, so she'll learn about real Native Americans soon.) She had a wonderful time, really getting into the candy hunt this year. She raced from door to door and down driveways (saying "Steep hill! Steep hill! Steep hill!) and got through Nana's street in no time. She also loved giving out candy again, standing on the porch shouting, "Hey, kids! Come get candy! Blow pops for the big ones! Nerds for the little ones!" Halloween is such a great expression of the pure joy of childhood.

And so for the big news -- Employment! Yes, I have a job. I am going to be the editor-in-chief of a new lifestyles magazine. It will publish bi-monthly and I'll only be working 20 hours a week, so I'll still be able to pick up Abigail from school and screw around online and in the house. I'll be overseeing editorial content, assigning stories, managing freelancers and getting on their cases about deadlines. It should be a lot of fun! And it will set me up so well for a year or so down the line, when I want full-time work, hopefully in a university setting. And the best part, I found out about the job just by running into my old boss at the grocery store. It's amazing how things just work out sometimes. (okay, yeah, and I'm giving a lot of credit Upstairs for some answered prayers about what I should do)

Hmm, what else? How about more pictures!! Who needs to be thoughtful when you have pictures?!

We went to an atrocious Clemson football game last month, where the crowd went wild in the third quarter when we finally got our first first down. It wasn't pretty. But it was wonderful to see my college family again. And we took Abigail for the first time, so I got to show her around campus and show her off to my friends. She had a blast and still talks about being waaaaaay up and seeing Lake Hartwell.



I know other things happened in the interim, but they have slipped my capricious mind, so I'll just jump to last weekend, when Abigail, Mom and I went to Carolina BalloonFest in Statesville, N.C. Once the hot air balloons started going, we had a great time. Abigail was mesmerized for a while, then went to jump in the FREE moon bounces (note to similar festivals, that's BRILLIANT!). Her day was truly made complete, though, when she got to ride in a balloon. It was a two or three minute ride, but she was thrilled.

Fond farewell

I said goodbye to some old friends today. I've known and loved them for 8 years now, have been intimately familiar with them, but it was time. Goodbye, Let's Go Europe and Let's Go France. You served me well. You gave me hostel advice and suggested cheap, tasty eats. You pointed me at the highlights as I tooled around cities. But you are not written in Euros, and I am too old for hostels, so it is time we went our separate ways.

Plus you took up too much shelf space.

I also steeled myself to thin my L.M. Montgomery collection. The books were filling Abigail's shelves, and she's starting into the brave new world of chapter books herself, so we had to make room. No, no, I kept Anne and Emily and some other favorites, but the short-story collections are being donated to the library. Hopefully an adolescent girl will find them and give them a good home.

Chim chim charee

No, Abigail's prophecy did not come true; I did not turn 30 and die. I just got busy for a bit, then couldn't get to the computer, then just got lazy. It happens.

Oh, where to begin? Well, at least Abigail is watching "Mary Poppins" right now, which is a nice, conflict free, funny, long movie, so I've got time! Actually, I do want to get down there and watch some of the movie. It's still so funny, even as an adult! And lots of subtle lines that went way over my head as a kid. Did you know Mr. Banks references "noblesse oblige"?

So, quite a long time ago, I went on some trips. In early July, I went to Myrtle Beach, which was, you know, Myrtle Beach. But it was relaxing, and pleasantly overcast, so we got to spend a good bit of time on the beach itself. And putt-putt is always good.

After a quick trip home for laundry, it was off to High Hampton Inn in Cashiers, N.C., for Brad's bi-annual managers' meeting. Man, that was a sweet place. Three gourmet buffet-style meals a day, i.e. eat as much as you want, but be sure to save room for the smorgasbord of desserts. The grounds were beautiful, and our cabin was right next to a little lake, within earshot of the dam. There was no air conditioning, but the weather was absolutely perfect, and we got to sleep under a ceiling fan. Abigail and I met some nice moms and their kids, both from Brad's work and just other guests, and we were able to get out as a family on the weekend. We went to Whitewater Falls, though I did not let Abigail venture anywhere as near the edge as we used to get in college! We also went to the much smaller Silver Run Falls, which has a lovely little swimming hole beneath it where Abigail would have been happy to spend hours. She also thoroughly enjoyed gem mining, which was surprisingly worth the cost. It was such a nice getaway.




Then, after returning home for another laundry day, Brad took me on a surprise birthday weekend up to the Yadkin Valley in N.C. Bet you didn't know there was wine in them thar hills? We were only about an hour or so from home, but it's a totally different region. We stayed in a bed and breakfast in the little crossroads of Union Grove, in the foothills of the Brushy Mountains, which we were informed are the oldest in North America, but I'm not sure of that. Our hostess made wonderful, three-course breakfasts -- have you ever had broiled grapefruit? You should! -- which left us stuffed, needing only a light picnic from the nearby Amish store for a late lunch. Yes, there are Amish in N.C. wine country, and they make the most amazing bread. We got some rolls while they were still warm and just about died right there. We enjoyed that picnic at Laurel Gray Vineyards, Brad's favorite of any we've been to so far (we were near the vineyard we visited last year). It was all lovely -- except perhaps for the extremely loud gaggle of ex-sorority girls out for a stag weekend. But they eventually left, and all was relaxation again. It was a wonderful surprise. Three cheers for Brad!


The week after that was vacation bible school, for which I had somewhat foolishly agreed to be photographer. It was fairly fun watching the kids, and Abigail loved it, but man, by the end of the week we were all burned out. And this week, we've just been trying to keep busy. Summer has hit that point when everything is boring, no toys are exciting anymore, and don't even try to suggest crafts. Unfortunately, this is also the week from hell -- really, a nice furnace blast straight from the underworld. It was 104 yesterday, supposed to be the same or hotter today. Oooh, oooh, but we cool off Saturday with a chilly high of 97! At least I'm not in Columbia, which hit 107 with a heat index of 115. Truly the armpit of South Carolina.

And to cap off this disjointed post, a quick Abigail story. A couple of Sundays ago, the pastor asked all the children if they'd heard of the Lord's Prayer. Then he asked if anyone could say it. Guess who's precocious little angel piped right up? She stumbled slightly on the second line, and the pastor was obviously ready to say "good job" and move on, but oh no, Abigail was not to be deterred. She picked right back up with gusto and breezed through the rest of the prayer. The pastor had the other children and congregation join in, which only made Abigail get louder. With every line. She could have been on stage at Carnegie Hall. Everyone applauded when she finished. The pastor said, "I don't think I've ever heard applause for the Lord's Prayer, but I think it was merited this time." After church, at least a dozen people came up and congratulated me on what a bright daughter I had -- and wagered she'd be into drama one day.

Long as the mountain stands

I've been quiet lately, sorry, but this is my crazy July. I just got back from a few days in Myrtle Beach, with all the interesting people watching and miniature golf that entails. Today is my laundry marathon day, and then tomorrow we leave for the N.C. mountains.

I am so excited about this trip. It'll be my own version of "Dirty Dancing" -- minus the Patrick Swayze and the botched medical procedures and, well, dancing. We're going to High Hampton Inn near Cashiers, complete with mountain trails on the property, a lake, paddle boats, golf, tennis, a spa and just about anything else you can imagine. And best of all, it's a working trip for Brad, so we won't have to pick up (much) of the tab! Woo-hoo! I really hope there's a big sing-along where I can show off my knowledge of the Kellerman's song. And I was a pro at the fancy lift Johnny and Baby do at the end of the movie (underwater at the pool with my friend when we were 10), maybe I can convince Brad to give it a try ...

Bet you didn't know I was gone

We just got back from a week at my mom's house, probably the most relaxing vacation we've had as a family. We didn't really have an agenda of things to see, Brad forswore the computer, and Abigail was able to play by herself for a bit each day -- even, gasp!, going out into the yard alone as long as she let a grown up know. It was a good time in Bagdad. (Yes, that's where mom lives. It's also the home of Mary B's, those fabulous frozen biscuits.) We went shopping, ate good Mexican, ate even better off the grill most nights, visited the Naval Aviation Museum, and went to the beach a couple of times -- though it actually was a bit cool, go figure.

So, in good mommy form, a few pictures. First, an up-close encounter with a heron in Navarre. Second, Abigail taking out the bad guys at the museum. Third, feeding fish along the Blackwater River in Milton (the gulls were a no show).

Trail blazing

So, yeah, two weeks. I know, that's really awful. No good reasons. I'm addicted to a mommies forum, though I'm trying to cut back.

Anyway, today Abigail and I made our annual trip to Landsford Canal State Park. It was time for the rocky shoals spider lily, but mainly we went because it was a sunny, cool day, and Abigail's 4-year-old legs can handle the two-mile round trip without a piggy-back ride. We had a great time. She was even more aware of her surroundings this year, noticing frogs and strange bugs, listening to the sounds of the forest, talking about how "wonderous and beauty" the trail was. The lilies, which are stunning but grow out in the middle of the Catawba River, were a let down to her since she couldn't see them up close, but she loved playing in the sandy river bank and climbing on rocks in the middle of the river. It was a really great morning -- and then she took a big nap when we got home, an added bonus!

For your viewing pleasure, pictures:

City of Angels

Before last week, the furthest west I'd ever been was San Antonio, and that was when I was 9. I've obviously seen lots of pictures, but it's very different seeing a totally different region of the country for myself.

We flew from Charlotte to Atlanta and then to Los Angeles, and when the clouds broke somewhere over southern Arizona or Utah, I was amazed. It was so brown. And there was no civilization. Not a glimmer from a house or car, not a single track through the dust. Of course, from 30,000 feet, dimensions are skewed, but it all looked so flat and dry, broken only by the carved edges of mesas. But even from above, I could see the striations of the rocks. A bit further on, rocky mountains jutted up from the desert floor -- no snow line, so scrub line, just rock and dust. I could even see the swirls of huge dust clouds kicking up over the valleys. I really need to go to the desert in person.

I really didn't see much in the way of people until we got near Palm Springs, Calif. Suddenly, there were perfectly straight lines of roads carved through the dust, complete with little glints of passing cars or isolated houses. Slowly the vegetation started to come back, but it was so different from the lush green of the Southeast. So scrubby, such a dry green. We approached what I'm guessing were the Santa Ana mountains (there was insipid TV on the inflight screens, not much more interesting directions), I saw snow dusting the tops of the mountains, as well as a blanket of clouds curling slowly over the peaks, as if it really were a solid fabric.

Then we crested the mountains, and there was L.A. I have never seen so much development. It was a quilt of gridded streets, houses packed together, and it went on for miles and miles and miles and miles until it ran out of room at the mountains. We flew over it for something like 45 minutes. I was overwhelmed. Sure, I lived in Chicago, but this was nuts. I have enough trouble finding my place in a little town like mine, I can't imagine how lost I'd be in that many millions.

The next day was our planned event. I don't want to risk talking about it, so if you want to know more, e-mail me. I will say it was fun overall, lots of nice people and an interesting thing to watch in production.

That evening, we went out to Santa Monica for the sunset, some wandering and some food. It was, obviously, gorgeous. And wild watching the sun set into the ocean in less than two minutes. (See that itty bitty tip of light in this picture? The last edge of the sun.) Even after the sun disappeared, the color was beautiful on the clouds and San Gabriel Mountains, especially seen through silhouetted palm trees.

I was fascinated by the flora: gnarled trees with little bark; droopy, fuzzy plants arcing a good three feet in the air; 10-foot tall shoots jutting up from some kind of succulent. And of course, there were the dinosaur topiary fountains in Third Street Promenade, but they weren't quite as impressive. Nor was the upscale shopping that I could have found at malls here in Charlotte. Nor was the grill we wound up eating appetizers at, but that wasn't too bad since we were so screwed up with time that we weren't hungry.

Thursday was wide open, and we decided to go to The Getty Center. Wow. Not the biggest or most impressive collection of art I've ever seen, but the building itself and its view of L.A. were amazing. As one of my many architects first pointed out, the entire complex is designed on a grid, and you can follow any gap in the limestone squares throughout the complex -- floors, windows, walls, stairs. Incredible attention to detail. And beautiful gardens and a wonderful walkway cutting across a man-made creek that was designed to have a different sound at each crossing.

I did have some favorite paintings: Jeanne Kefer by Fernand Khnopff and Houses near Orleans by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot. We didn't make it to the vast photography collection, but hey, a reason to go back, right?

We finished off the day by yet again going to Santa Monica. We had talked about going to see the freak show at Venice Beach, but we were tired and just wanted to relax. We grabbed a beer at a pub, window shopped, caught another sunset, and shivered through the gale-force winds. We wound up the night at Lula Cocina Mexicana, which had great margaritas, awesome salsa verde, and decent food. Interestingly, they served cooked carrots marinated in vinegar with the chips and salsa, and this is apparently typically Mexican. Wonder why I've never seen it on the East Coast.

To get back to the hotel, we took yet another cab. We spent more money on cabs than food, though it was probably worth not having to drive on the freeways. Our cabbies were from Guatemala, New Jersey, somewhere Arab, Ethiopia, Eastern Europe and Morocco. You literally saw all kinds of people in L.A.

And voila, the next day we flew home. We were stuck on the plane for an hour at the gate in L.A., stuck another 45 minutes waiting for passengers in Atlanta, and didn't get home until 1 a.m. But it could have been worse: our flight from LAX was going on to Tel Aviv, another 11 hours after Atlanta!

So there you go, more than you ever wanted to know about my trip, except perhaps for the part I can't talk about. I definitely recommend a trip out there, even if, like us, you don't care about celebrities. And we definitely want to go back, though perhaps more like the central coast and wine country. Ahhhh, vacation.

Postcard

Santa Monica at sunset. More to come.

Thoughts from last night

I couldn't get to the computer last night, so I "blogged" old-school in a notebook. Le voila:

I just finished watching "Elizabethtown," which was a really good movie. Not great because it dragged a bit, but really good. In watching it, three things occurred to me:

1.) In 2000, I had scheduled an interview with the paper in Elizabethtown, which I cancelled after I took the job here. Who on earth would I have become if I'd wound up in Kentucky?

2.) I have always wanted to be a marvellously quirky girl like the character Claire. I wanted to wear odd vintage clothing and hats, know all kinds of indie music, and say incredible things to men at the drop of a hat. Yet I'm me.

3.) I really, really have to take a cross-country road trip. Maybe it stems from growing up near Route 66, but I have always wanted to have that quintessentially American experience. I want to see the bizarre roadside attractions out west, get stuck at stoplights in small towns, eat at diners, and lose myself in the loneliness of the plains. I'm just not sure when I'll do it or with whom.

What to see out West

So I'll be going to Los Angeles at the end of February. I'm very excited, though I'm not supposed to blog about why I'm going, but I've never particularly wanted to go to Southern California. Central Coast, sure. Wine Country, oh hell yeah. San Fransisco, of course. But L.A., nope. And I'm not in any particular awe of famous entertainers. So what should I do out there? I'll have a couple of evenings and probably one day. I've heard that L.A. is infamous for bad public transit, so I also don't want to pay a ton in cab fares toodling around the city. Right now, I'm thinking the tar pits. Where else can you see tar pits? And maybe a museum and the Chinese Theater since it looks so cool. But really, I'm clueless and would love suggestions!

And if you know of any good trivia books or Web sites, that would be appreciated, too :)

Drooooool

I know I've mentioned Paris Breakfasts before, and you may notice it in my link list (so I can check it every day), but oh dear, I am about to die from the following photo. If I ever went to this shop, I think I would just melt into a puddle of gluttonous desire.



That is PB's author's photo, by the way. And if anyone is ever in doubt of what they could get me for a gift, one of her watercolors would do quite, quite nicely.

Happy Fourth!

About a week ago, Brad and I took off for a wonderful mini-vacation in Asheville to celebrate our fourth anniversary. I did all the planning and Brad did all the driving, so it worked out well!

First we headed northward to the Yadkin Valley in North Carolina. I'm sure I drove past here once for a day hike with friends, but we were totally unprepared for how beautiful the drive was off the interstate. We took off on a state highway that coursed through a valley between foothill mountains. The way was dotted with adorable white houses, most of which seemed to have a horse pen in their yard. And the weather was beautiful; we'd finally escaped the Charlotte smog and found a perfect blue sky marbled with clouds.

winery
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

There was of course a purpose for our wanderings, the Raffaldini Vineyards. The setting was obviously stunning, the wines were quite tasty (I especially liked the Vermentino, a slightly minerally white) and we struck up a two hour conversation with a couple of baby boomers, a Wake Forest professor and his wife, a Hospice volunteer. We were obviously in very different stages in life, but it was a surprisingly pleasant and engaging coversation -- and I think we were all happy after three glasses of wine and summer sun.

Brad swore he was sober, so we finally headed west to Asheville for the night. It had been years since I'd been there, but I could so easily live in that city! We stayed in one of the many bed and breakfasts in the historic Montford district, which was of course charming. This was our room, and I was quite proud of myself for picking it!

We trooped off to dinner at The Flying Frog Cafe, which was fabulous. The restaurant is strange mix of upscale American, French, German and Indian cuisine. Where else could Brad have enjoyed his bratwurst and I have scraped up every drop of the sauce from my lamb korma zaffrani? The decor was also an interesting blend of styles; one section had huge, comfy couches, another open section had tables with carved chairs, and we were in a secluded set of tables, each draped to look almost like a Moroccan tent. And, to keep the eclectic feel high, there was our waiter. I never got his name, but I refered to him as Dieter. He had severe German-style glasses and close-cropped hair, and he never smiled. Up loomed this grim figure, who sternly stated -- not asked -- "I hope you are having a pleasant evening." I found him highly amusing, no doubt a very troubled and misunderstood artist who was forced to sell his soul by serving us bourgeois cretins. But he saved the best for last. As he brought out my quite delicious banana cake, he looked directly at us and asked, "Would you like to see the plate trick?" The plate trick, how can we refuse?! So our already rather strange waiter took the great big leap to bizarre as he rotated his wrist, then his elbow, then his shoulder to take my dessert on a mystifying route to the table. Who needs entertainment?!

The next day, after breakfast and not-nearly-as-pleasant chat with the boomers at our B&B, we wandered around Asheville briefly before heading off to hike. Ah, the art nouveau and deco architecture! The art and antique galleries! The fascinating people watching! What a great city.

triplefalls
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

But the mountains were calling, so off we went to DuPont State Forest for a 3 mile hike of three different waterfalls (seen here, Triple Falls). The park is just outside Brevard, and I highly recommend it if you're around Asheville or even Greenville. At first, the weather was gorgeous, probably in the 80s. As we went up in elevation, though, so did the temperatures, and on our way to High Falls, we were dripping. If only we'd had our swimsuits like the rest of the hikers we saw! Each of the falls had a great swimming hole, especially the smaller Hooker Falls. The trails had some pretty steep sections, but we figured if the 70-something couple we passed could do it, so could we. I was satisfyingly tired when we were done.

Then, sadly, it was time to head back down the mountain, which we did via U.S. 176 and S.C. 11, quite the nice drive. Until Gaffney, that is, and no, not just because of the Peachoid (see also here, here and here). In the course of conversation, Brad innocently said, "So, you'll be 29 Sunday, huh?" at which point I let out a blood-curdling scream! No, not about the age, really. We were driving with the windows cracked, and I was holding the top of my window when I must have been struck by a giant cicada or something. It hurt a bit but mainly scared the crap out of me! I didn't know if it had come in the car, and as I was desperately searching the floorboard, I hear Brad yell, "Ow! What the hell was that?!" He was also hit, this time in the ear and by a small beetle that did wind up in the back seat. We thought we were in for some kind of freak insect storm and quickly put up the windows, though thankfully we were spared a barrage of goo on the windshield. I never did find my cicada ...

After that, the trip ended uneventfully, though it felt like a heck of a lot more than a day and a half.

princess
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

And where was our dear child for all of this? Down at the beach with Nana and Pops, having a wonderful time. But here are a few pictures for good measure. This one probably from June, and the one below from a strawberry picking trip with Grandma back in May. Isn't she cute?

berries
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

If I had a million dollars

Can I be this guy when I grow up? I've always said my dream job would be a travel writer for the New York Times, but this is the ultimate: travel around the world on the cheap, with your articles and pictures published once a week in the Times. Wow.

I know, I know, I have a child and husband that I love and lofty goals of buying a house in a year, so travel isn't high on my agenda (other than mooching off my sister). The mystique of wandering around Europe with a travel guide and a rail pass is still powerful, though. Travel would be no where near as cheap as the good ol' days before hitting 26, but at least I'd have a small scattering of people to stay with for free. Sigh, that old idea of returning to the States, learning Spanish, then cavorting off for another year teaching English abroad is so distant. Damn the reality of growing up!

Oh, and we wouldn't have to eat Kraft dinner -- but we would!

Far from stodgy stacks

At my alma mater, the library was a nightmarish example of bad '70s architecture. Even worse, the English and French literature were buried, literally, on the second-to-lowest floor underground. Worn, mottled red industrial carpeting combined with that dank subterranian feeling to give an overall icky feeling. I didn't voluntarily spend much free time there.

However, I would gladly spend scads of free time in the Parisian libraries. Be sure to watch the multimedia slideshow and look for the Biblioteque Ste.-Genevieve. Gorgeous. Add these to my list of new things to do in Paris whenever I finally get back over there.

On a side note, I'll be trotting off the the lovely Florida Panhandle tomorrow, so I'll probably be silent for another week. I'm looking forward to a good dose of mothering and shopping and warm weather, but thanks to my sinus infection, I'm not looking forward to the actual travel with Abigail. At least she's ecstatic about getting to fly in an airplane. Almost as good as Christmas.

La France en flamme

I am simply astounded by what is happening in France right now. I simply cannot reconcile this violence with that country. Granted, I was never in the ZUPs (zone urbane publique or something like that -- the projects), though when I did pass them on the train they were depressing as heck, but still. This is France.

When I was there in 1999, not long after Columbine, my students were dumbfounded by the violence in America. You could write that off as the naievete of small-town kids, but the riots have reached Lens, not 15 minutes by train from my town, Bethune. And that's just according to a map of the 20 or so most serious riots -- there were riots in 300 towns yesterday. And while Bethune wasn't a hotbed of immigrant unrest -- or of many immigrants period -- it was certainly an economically depressed area in its own right. I tend to think of that region as the West Virginia of France, lots of closed coal mines. There certainly could have been small skirmishes there. Hooded thugs and fires in the Grand'Place -- I can't even picture it.

Of course, I had heard of the racism in France. I only had one first-generation French student, but I had known a man of Algerian descent in 1997 (Dex may remember him, the guy that was dating that rather ditsy girl Jenny in Lyon), and he had talked about the difficulties he faced. And I had met a fellow teaching assistant who had been placed in the Lille suburb of Roubaix. That place was known to be dangerous, you just didn't voluntarily go to Roubaix. Students regularly threatened that teacher, and he'd even had chairs thrown at him. I think he was teaching middle school -- and we were just the conversational English teachers, with no real grading power.

(Time for a sidenote with a completely different tone: In Bethune, the Grand'Place is dominated by a medieval bell tower, Le Beffroi. It was one of the few things to survive a 1918 bombardment [the rest of the square was rebuilt]. And apparently, it just became a UNESCO world history site! Go little Bethune!)

Beffroi de Bethune
Originally uploaded by HFBW.