Monthly Archives: December 2014

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Today has been better…

One thing that was a plus is that the washer didn’t take on more water when we flushed the commode last night.  It seems to fill up only when someone showers.  While that’s inconvenient, it’s less inconvenient than not being able to use the bathroom without bailing out the washing machine.  I suppose we could just disconnect the washer and put a bucket under the standpipe, too.

Bill made us a nice breakfast.  Then we did our usual shopping.  We picked up some Christmas stuff at Panzer.  I even drove today, which I almost never do.  Just preparing for tomorrow, when I have to take Arran to the vet for a dental cleaning.  Afterwards, we had lunch at The Auld Rogue.  I had a chicken burger and Bill had fish and chips.  One day, we will go somewhere else for lunch on Sunday so I can write another review.

I went with a Murphy’s Irish Stout…


and a chicken burger…  I wasn’t too keen on this dish.  The chicken was a little dry, though the chips were excellent, as usual.  Next time, I’ll try something else.

Then we went to the commissary, which was kind of packed.  The self service registers were cash only, so the line to check out was backed up quite a bit.

We stopped by the Class VI for tequila, wine, and liquid de-icer for the cars.  I went in the bathroom and was astonished by the sign on the door…

Notice the promise of a clean restroom…  It supposedly gets inspected every hour.

Someone must have been very messy in the 60 minutes before I stopped in for a quick tinkle.

Yuck.

 

It’s alright, though, because I have never seen this particular restroom clean.  Not when we lived here last time and not in recent months.  It’s a unisex bathroom, too.  Maybe that has something to do with it.  In any case, that sign on the door is somewhat false advertising, though I have seen nastier bathrooms.  In fact, I have even seen them on military installations.

I would have used the commissary bathroom, but it was being cleaned and I didn’t want to interfere with the process.  I think of all the places to pee on American installations, the commissary is my favorite.  It’s usually pretty clean in there.

It wouldn’t be an issue if I didn’t have such a long drive home, but it’s a real drag to need a WC when you’re headed down A81.  We’re back now and preparing for yet another week in magical Deutschland.

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A crappy day in Germany…

I have had one hell of a crappy day.  What really sucks about my crappy day is that I was looking forward to the weekend, hoping to have some fun.  My husband, Bill, has been gone to Chad all week and I’ve been by myself, hanging out in our rented home with my two sweet but occasionally irritating hounds.  I really need to get a life and make some friends.

Last week, I was sick with a cold and I’ve been dealing with what I think is a very weird gum abscess.  It doesn’t hurt, but it’s worrisome and annoying and has caused a little swelling and bleeding.  I need to have it looked at, but we don’t have dental insurance yet… it doesn’t kick in until January 1.  Add in the fact that I am very neurotic when it comes to my teeth.  I have two baby teeth that may be about to give up the ghost.  I expected them to– they are 42 years old and have served me pretty well.  They seem to be rooted well, too.  But the idea of possibly needing an extraction or two and the expense, trauma, and pain associated with that does nothing for my mood.  And once those teeth come out, it’s time for implants.  What fun.

I got a visit from Aunt Flow a couple of days ago, which is always fun.  It’s even more fun when your plumbing is on the fritz.  This morning, I went downstairs to do my laundry and there was a bunch of standing grey water in my new washing machine.  I immediately assumed something was wrong with the machine.  My husband bailed the water out, then went to take a shower.  While he was showering, the drum in the washing machine filled with more water.  That tells me there’s a blockage of some sort in the house.

So we called the landlords and they came over to help us.  There’s water all over the floor.  My dogs are going crazy.  I’m feeling neurotic about my teeth and I’m on the rag.  We finally got the washing machine going to the point at which we got the laundry done, but it wasn’t without a big mess and inconvenience.  The homeowners will call a plumber on Monday because there’s a leak in the pipe and the drain probably needs snaking.

I’m still feeling very cranky and grouchy…  the mail carrier comes by.  She looks a lot like my mom.  She has a package for me, a star I bought for our big Christmas tree because the one I have on it is a 110 lighted one from Target.  I’ve been waiting awhile for this thing to arrive.  It didn’t cost much.  Looking at the address on the envelope, I see why it’s taken so long to get to me.  The star came all the way from Hong Kong.

I open the package and this is what I see…

This thing is even more disappointing in person than it is in the photo.

 

It’s made of cheap plastic and there’s no way to stick it on the tree.  It’s sloppily and incompletely covered with glitter.  And it’s just a sucky product.

 

I showed it to Bill and he said, “It’s like the equivalent of the Charlie Brown Christmas tree.”  He asked me if I wanted to put it on our other tree (we have two because the first time we were in Germany, I forgot to pack our tree and got another one that is small).

I said “No, we can just put it somewhere and make fun of it.”  That comment made him laugh.

So, in review, I’ve got residual snot from a cold to get rid of.  I’m on the rag.  The plumbing is messed up.  The washing machine may also be messed up, though we did at least get the thing going enough so we have some clean underwear.  I have dental problems and no insurance until January 1… and I’m not in enough discomfort to go to the dentist and pay entirely out of pocket.  At the very least, I suspect I need some antibiotics and knowing that, I keep checking my teeth and gums for signs that I need to get to a doctor urgently.  That has made the side of my face sore because I have to contort my lips in order to see and I’ve done it enough times to cause muscle fatigue.  I wanted to have some fun this weekend, but it looks like that’s not in the cards.  I can’t take a shower because of the plumbing.  And I’ve been listening to my dogs bark all day.

Stuff is just piling up.  I know these are minor first world problems, but they are still very irritating and have spoiled my mood.

Last night, we visited The Mad Scientist for dinner and ran up a respectable bill.  I had my usual stuff for dinner, but finished up with my very first taste of Metaxa, which is a Greek brandy.  It sort of tasted like brandy mixed with sherry.  It tasted good and no doubt made our Mad Scientist friend happy that I ordered it.

Metaxa in the glass…

Metaxa in the colorful bottle…

 

I need to have some fun soon.  At least I’m not in any pain, though.  On a positive note, Bill did bring home some macaroons from Paris.

These are yummy!

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Book review: States of Confusion: My 19,000-Mile Detour to Find Direction

Here’s a repost of a book I read and reviewed last year.  If you like stories about road trips through the United States, Paul Jury’s States of Confusion: My 19,000-Mile Detour to Find Direction may be a good bet for you!

Young man drives all over America to find himself…

Jan 31, 2013 (Updated Jan 31, 2013)
Review by    is a Top Reviewer on Epinions in Books

Rated a Very Helpful Review

Pros:Well-written, funny, engaging and entertaining.

Cons:Loses a little steam toward the end of the book.

The Bottom Line: Highly recommended!

A couple of years ago, I stumbled across an article about Paul Jury and his 2011 book, States of Confusion: My 19,000-Mile Detour to Find Direction.  To be honest, I don’t remember what it was about the article I read that made me want to read the book; I only know that after I read, I went to Amazon.com and bought.  I downloaded his book to my Kindle and there it sat for almost two years.  I finally read it this month, finishing it in less than 48 hours.  And now I’m a little embarrassed it sat in the queue for as long as it did.

Who is Paul Jury and what is his book about?

After graduating from Northwestern University with a degree in film, Paul Jury was at a loss as to what he should do next.  He grew up in Minneapolis and had a girlfriend named Sarah who was in Chicago, earning a degree in law.  A lot of Paul’s friends had found lucrative jobs and were on their way to do something with their lives.  Paul was floundering, having worked a couple of unsatisfying dead end jobs that ultimately led to nowhere.  Somehow, Paul came up with the idea to spend 48 days driving to each of the 48 continental states.

He had it all figured out.  He would drive his parents’ 1993 Eurovan, affectionately dubbed the Spacemobile.  He would sleep in the van and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  He would stick to side roads, making a point of doing something “interesting” in each state.  And he would stick to a budget.  He had saved up $3000, which would fund his adventure.

Things went awry from the very beginning, when the Spacemobile had problems that made it impossible to drive.  Paul embarked on his trip in his father’s Ford Taurus, which he called “The Imposter”, with plans to come back to get the Spacemobile when it was operational again.  Once he got on the road, he found that sometimes the best laid plans lead one somewhere completely different from where they thought they’d end up.

My thoughts

I really enjoyed reading States of Confusion.  Paul Jury is an entertaining writer with an excellent sense of humor.  Most of all, I really related to him.  When I was fresh out of college, I had my own identity crisis, which led me to join the Peace Corps.  That was sort of my place to “find myself”… only I kind of didn’t.  Anyway, I related to Jury’s search to figure out his life and I liked the way he characterized some of the people he met on his journey.

From wading in a snake filled fetid lake of brown sludge in Missouri in search of his car keys, to swilling beer with two recent jailbirds in Arkansas, to being waited on by a one armed waitress in Vermont, to meeting a Waffle House heiress in Mississippi, to having a massive breakdown in Montana, Paul Jury got a real taste of Americana.  He shares that taste with his readers, everything from the genuine boredom he experienced to the panic he felt at times when inevitable trouble cropped up.

As I read States of Confusion, I pictured myself undertaking a similar road trip and realized I wouldn’t want to do it, as exciting as it seemed.  I think I would get lonely, though Paul did keep a blog, carried a cell phone, and bunked with some friends.  Also, he mentions that he got awfully ripe, thanks to a lack of laundry and shower facilities.  At the end of the book, Paul comes to some satisfying conclusions.  My only complaint is that it seemed a little like his story lost a little steam the further west he went… but maybe that’s to be expected, given the state of the Spacemobile.

Overall

This is a great book, especially for those who enjoy funny memoirs about regular people.  Yes, Paul’s road trip is a bit wacky, but it’s fun to read about and imparts some universal truths that may be especially valuable to young readers.  I definitely recommend States of Confusion, especially to anyone looking for direction.

Buy States of Confusion on Amazon.com.

As an Amazon Associate, I get a small commission on sales made through my site.

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dental

Adventures in German style dentistry…

I’m overdue for a cleaning.  I also have a suspicious swollen area on my gum that I think may be a draining abscess.  It doesn’t hurt much, but I need to get it looked at.  I’ve been dentist shopping for awhile now, but have put off going because Bill was slow to get our dental insurance started.  As it is now, we have coverage starting January 1.  But I need to go in sooner than that because if I have an abscess, really bad things could happen.

Complicating matters is the fact that the affected tooth is one of two baby teeth I still have.  Last year, I got the fillings in both teeth replaced, but I think the gum area around that tooth has developed pockets and that’s why I’m having this issue right now.  I really don’t want to get it extracted, but I may need to.  And then it’s implant time.  I could probably get a bridge, but I really don’t want to put crowns on the teeth next to that little baby tooth.  For one thing, getting crowns really sucks and I want to keep my natural teeth for as long as possible.  For another, one of the teeth next to the baby tooth isn’t very big.

All of this is likely to cost a mint, even with insurance.  And I have a bad feeling that I’m going to end up having to write nasty letters like I did last year to MetLife Dental.  I have sent an email to a local practice, though, that I hope will get me in this week so I can at least address what looks like an infection.

If it all costs too much, maybe I can do a dental vacation to Hungary or Poland.

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holidays

Our big Virginia trip, part six– going home

We got up Sunday morning, enjoyed one last breakfast at the Hummingbird Inn, and hit the road for northern Virginia.  I thought maybe we’d get Bill some new pants for work, but we never managed to get to an appropriate store.  I think we were too focused on the long trip ahead of us to worry about shopping.  We feared heavy traffic as everyone made their way home after the holiday break, but it didn’t turn out to be too bad going north on Interstate 81.

The one big decision we had to make going back to Dulles Airport was where to stop for lunch.  I wanted something we can’t get in Germany.  We were going to get Mexican food which, while available in Germany, loses a lot in the translation.  We ended up at a Five Guys instead and had a couple of greasy cheeseburgers with fries.  Then we went to the airport and dropped off our rental car.

I was kind of impressed by the TSA screening at Dulles, both coming and going.  They seem to have streamlined it quite a bit so that it’s faster and easier to get through.  No need to take off shoes or remove electronics from our bags.  I did have my hands swabbed, though.  Good thing none of my cousins brought any firearms this year.

We had plenty of time to kill, so we stopped by a bar/restaurant that served Dominion beers.  We had enough time that I was able to try them all…  And it’s a good thing I did, too, because Bill and I ended up being seated in the two middle seats of a row.  Just as I was about to sit down, the lady who was to sit next to me hollered, “That’s my seat!  I’m sitting next to you.”

Mmm… beer.

The lady sitting next to me turned out to be a very annoying Jewish woman with a penchant for Sudoku.  I wouldn’t mention that she was Jewish except that she made it obvious by loudly mentioning it several times.  She’d also ordered Kosher meals and was served ahead of everyone else.  She’d get her food, then Bill and the lady sitting next to him would get theirs, because the flight attendants on their side were somehow faster.  I’d then get mine twenty minutes later, after everyone else was finished eating.  Not that it really mattered.  I didn’t have much of an appetite on the flight back to Europe.  It was just awkward having to be dead last.

The woman sitting next to me hogged the armrest and needed constant help from the flight attendants.  She wasn’t particularly unpleasant about asking, just loud and persistent.  She was part of a large tour group on their way to Florence and she had lots and lots of questions.  It didn’t help that the woman sitting in front of me was a notorious recliner who kept herself leaned back for the entire flight.  I will give her credit for at least putting her seat up when we were eating.  I have been on several international flights where the people in front of me weren’t even that considerate.

It was all too fitting that I’d choose to watch the film Anger Management on our way across the pond.  I had not seen it before and I must admit it was a rather funny film starring Adam Sandler and the ever adorable Marisa Tomei.  I noticed Tomei’s character was named Linda…  Wonder if Adam Sandler has an ex named Linda, since he seems to use that name a lot for the females in his films.  The film was in English with no subtitles.  I’m not sure if I’d requested it in French if it would have been dubbed or subtitled.  I guess that’s something to test out next time I fly across the pond on a European carrier.

Transatlantic flights are uniformly boring and uncomfortable, but at least the longer flight to the States was more comfortable than the flight going back to Europe.  Happily, the flight to Europe was also about an hour shorter than the flight to the USA.

We were delayed about an hour leaving DC, too, which aggravated a lot of people.  For Bill and me, it was a non issue.  Our one hour flight to Stuttgart didn’t leave Charles de Gaulle Airport until about 8:00pm.  We had originally planned to take a train to Paris and fart around the city, but by the time we landed in Paris, we were both totally exhausted.  Fortunately, Sheraton came to the rescue.

Back in 1997, I spent the night at CDG in a hotel called “Cocoon”.  It was a no frills establishment designed to allowed travelers the chance to rest during long layovers or before early flights.  The place wasn’t even an official hotel and wasn’t allowed to rent rooms for more than 18 hours at a time. Cocoon closed years ago and was evidently replaced by a full service Sheraton.

Being a corporate owned American establishment, the Sheraton at CDG takes full advantage of the exhaustion of weary travelers desperate for a nap.  After spending about a half an hour or so searching for the Sheraton, Bill and I rented one of their “day rooms” and we paid dearly for the privilege.  For about 200 euros, you get a room from 9am until 6pm.  Want Internet?  That’s another 19 euros.  Breakfast?  Another 37 euros please.  Yes, it was expensive… on the other hand, had we gone into Paris, we probably would have spent just as much or more and likely would have been even more exhausted.  Besides, the weather wasn’t all that great for sightseeing.

Touch the minibar at the Sheraton and you’ll surely be charged…

Ahh…

Marble bathroom!

One thing I will say about the breakfast offered at the CDG Sheraton– it’s HUGE.  We ordered one and it was more than enough food for both of us.  We had enough leftover that a third person could have joined us.

Sideways breakfast…

I took a very nice shower– the shower at the CDG Sheraton is of the rainfall variety and felt heavenly after our long flight.  Then, after eating eggs, fruit, and breads, and washing it down with coffee and juice, we passed out for about four or five hours.

Looks very space aged in the hotel…

Since check out time was 6:00pm, we left the hotel at about 5:30 or so and made our way to the gate where our flight to Stuttgart was.  We found a little gourmet market and had quiche and wine for dinner.  Then, we got on our flight.  Fortunately, it wasn’t full and I was able to change seats and sit by Bill. We finally got back to Stuttgart at about 9:20pm or so.  Despite the delay coming out of DC and annoying seat mates (which you will find on any airline), I was pretty happy with Air France.  I’d fly them transatlantic again.

Quiche and vino!

I was impressed the Air France highlighted Armenia in their most recent flight magazine.

Homeward bound!

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Our big Virginia trip, part five– old friends!

I was really looking forward to Saturday because I had a “date” with two old college friends.  In 1994, I graduated from what is now Longwood University (in our day, it was Longwood College).  I hadn’t seen my friends Donna and Joann since those days in Farmville, though Facebook had kept us in touch somewhat.

Donna, Joann, and I were all English majors.  Joann was Donna’s “big sister” in their sorority.  I was Donna’s big sister in our honorary music fraternity.  Donna was one of the first people I met freshman year, back in 1990.  If I recall correctly, we met while waiting in line to shop at the bookstore.  There was no Amazon.com back in the those days.  Donna was later my suite mate during our sophomore year.

I met Joann in a British lit class.  We both had Dr. Massie Stinson, one of my favorite Longwood profs.  In his very soft, southern drawl, he taught us about romantic British literature as we read The Mayor of Casterbridge and works by Tennyson, Keats, and Shelley.  I didn’t know it back then, but Joann is from Lexington, Virginia, which is very close to where both of my parents grew up.  It’s also where Bill and I got married.

So we made a date at Macado’s for noon on Saturday.  Macado’s also has a location in Farmville, as all Longwood students know.  In our day, it was pretty much the only game in town for a fun bite to eat.  I’m sure that’s changed by now.  I actually had a long standing grudge against Macado’s for many years, but I figured it would be fitting to go there last weekend.

Donna came with her husband and adorable 11 year old daughter in tow.  I could see Donna’s husband was relieved that I brought Bill with me so he’d have a guy to talk to.  Joann is single.  Our party of six was lively as we enjoyed sandwiches and I ordered what used to be my favorite thing to eat when I was in college, macaroni and cheese.  It wasn’t quite as good as I remembered it, though it was pretty close.

Old Longwood friends!

 

Mac and cheese…  Mine is better.

 

While we were hanging out, I had the opportunity to confront Donna’s daughter, whom I’d heard had unofficially dubbed me “the cusser”.  Apparently, I swear too much on Facebook.  When I asked her about it, she blushed bright red… almost enough to match her bright red hair!  It was super cute!  I was impressed by how well behaved she was, hanging out with all the adults who were temporarily regressing back to their early 20s.

After lunch, we walked around Lexington and visited Celtic Tides, an Irish store that I’ve given a lot of business over the years.  I bought a plaque for my office that reminds me of my Celtic boozy genes.  We went to another store called Pumpkinseeds, which is where I bought two pairs of earrings I don’t really need.  For some reason, if I like something and in comes in different colors, I have to buy two.  Must be my Gemini “twin” thing.

Obviously, I had something important to say…

We finally ended up in a small park where the town Christmas tree was all lit.  One of my cousin’s wives found us there and reminded me that my Aunt Nancy was celebrating her 80th birthday in the form of a cocktail party.  I had forgotten all about it…  Actually, no one ever gave me the details and I wasn’t sure where she lived.  But as it was getting dark, we decided to part ways after a very fun five hour visit.

A shot of the movie theater in Lexington.

We stopped by the homeplace to see if anyone was around.  No one was, so we ate our leftovers from Macado’s and then went back to the inn for our last night there.  I decided to turn in early, since I knew Sunday and Monday were going to be big travel days.

I hope it won’t be another 20 years before I see these two ladies again.  But since I doubt my family will ever totally leave Rockbridge County, I’m sure we can work out another reunion sooner rather than later.

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holidays

Our big Virginia trip, part four– Friday night!

In my family, we traditionally have a “barn party” on Friday after Thanksgiving.  Over the years, the party has been held in a variety of different places.  When I was a kid, the barn on my Uncle Brownlee’s property was owned by someone else, so we had to rent somewhere for our party.  Some years, we had it at the Natural Bridge Hotel, either in a room in the basement or in a reception hall.

In 1987, we had an all out par-tay in one of the big ballrooms.  It was complete with an open bar and a full band featuring my Uncle Brownlee and his brother, my Uncle Stephen.  There was much drunkenness, especially from yours truly.  I was then 15 years old, and one of my cousins, who shall remain nameless, was passing me bourbon and Cokes.  I drank four and got good and hammered.  That was the first time in my life I ever got drunk, and boy was I a mess.  Fortunately, my Aunt Nance filmed the whole thing for posterity…  LOL.  I made myself scarce during the drunk part, thank GOD.  I still like to watch that video, though, because that was a wild party and there are people in it who are no longer with us.

In later years, we had the party at the Fire Station in Natural Bridge, which wasn’t too long on character.  There were lots of stories told, though no dancing or music.  One year, we had karaoke in the barn.  And finally in recent years, we started having the whole celebration in the barn, which my handy and talented Uncle Brownlee has fixed up for dancing and music.  The last few years, we’ve even had live bluegrass music from The Plank Road Express.  In 2010, during our last visit for Thanksgiving, I got to sing a number with the band, which was a lot of fun for me.  In a former life, I think I was a rock star.

I had a feeling we were going to be a bit emotional after my dad’s memorial, so I arranged a date night for Bill and me.  We had dinner at The Southern Inn in Lexington, Virginia.  We ate there once or twice before and there are other restaurants in Lexington.  I will admit that part of the reason I chose that place is because they participate in OpenTable, which is a restaurant reservation service.  I get points every time I make a reservation and have been collecting for over ten years.  But if I don’t reserve a table at least once a year, the points expire.  Since I don’t know when we’ll be back in the States, I figured it was a good opportunity to keep current.  And I wanted to enjoy a nice dinner with my spouse, too.

So we stayed dressed up for dinner, though we really didn’t have to.  The Southern Inn is a fairly casual place and it’s obvious that it’s popular with locals.  Our waitress was very experienced and clearly knew a lot of the people at the surrounding tables.  We enjoyed a very nice meal, too.  I started with baked Brie and a glass of prosecco.  Bill had a bowl of Andouille sausage soup.  I had sea scallops and parmesan grits for my entree.  Bill had a huge steak.  For dessert, I had a Brandy Alexander, while Bill had pecan pie.

Bill reacting to something smartassed I said.

Vino!

Baked Brie… it was a little like a grilled cheese sandwich on steroids.

Bill’s yummy soup!

Scallops, grits, and greens!

Beef!

Brandy Alexander… 

Pecan pie… this was good, but my brother-in-law, Mark, makes an even better one.

We got back to the home place just in time for a spectacular fireworks show put on by one of my cousins.  I wish we’d gotten there a little earlier so I could have gotten more than a few shots.  I was pretty impressed by how professional the show was!

Fireworks!

Then we went to the barn for dancing and more singing… and yes, I did get to sing with The Plank Road Express again.  It was funny, too, because the lead singer spotted me and said, “I’ve been looking for you for four years!  Where have you been?”  I sang “Walking After Midnight” and fumbled with the words a bit… but probably the most special moment of the night came when I saw the words for “On Heaven’s Bright Shore” on her music stand.

You see, I really would have liked to have sung “On Heaven’s Bright Shore” at my dad’s memorial.  That would have been my choice for a solo.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have anyone to accompany me.  I did record an acapella version, but it’s not as good as it would be if I had someone on guitar or something.

The Plank Road Express in the barn…

Anyway, I asked the band if they would mind if I gave “On Heaven’s Bright Shore” a whirl.  They asked if I could sing it in “C”.  I said, “Just play it.  I’m drunk and so is most everyone else in here!”  It turned out pretty well!

I thanked the band for obliging me and explained that I had come all the way from Germany for my dad’s memorial.  The lead singer said, “Oh, so that was your dad who died?  I sang ‘On Heaven’s Bright Shore’ for my dad, too.”  I got the sense that we bonded a little over that song!

Another highlight of Friday night was my Uncle Ed, who is just hilarious.  He said, “Hey Jenny, we have some ‘moon’ here…”  “Moon”, for your edification, refers to moonshine.  Yes, many people in my family enjoy it as well as the odd Miller Lite beer.  My tastebuds have evolved beyond Lite, but I don’t mind if I do enjoy a little “moon” when the opportunity presents itself.  It was good stuff, too– pretty smooth and I haven’t gone blind…

We didn’t get back to the Hummingbird Inn until after 1:00am.  We would have been there sooner, except I left my bag at the house and had to go back and retrieve it.  On the way into the house, I skinned the hell out of my knee.  That may have been yet another sign from my dad.  Many years ago, when I was a kid and we were celebrating Thanksgiving with the family, my dad decided to go jogging.  Possibly in a pre-menstrual moment, I said “I hope you fall and skin your knee.”  My cousin, Suzanne, thought that was the funniest thing and reminded me of it this year.  So maybe it was a little karmic payback.  Despite my smarting knee, I had a great time!

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Our big Virginia trip, part three– My Dad’s memorial…

Friday was an emotional day.  We buried my dad’s ashes on the hillside overlooking the house he grew up in.  Jason Grimes, the minister from High Bridge Presbyterian Church came and had a little service for us.  I was heartened to hear that he’s from South Carolina, which has a special place in my heart.  Go Gamecocks!

 

My dad grew up going to this church and became a member when he was ten years old.  It’s still the “family church”, as it were.

My Uncle Brownlee made the box for my dad’s ashes…  I thought the VMI ball cap was a nice touch.

A few hours later, we had a celebration of his life at the church itself.  Since I was asked to sing, I was a little nervous.  My dad and I have always had a complicated history.  Our musical history together is no less complicated than anything else about our relationship ever was.  My dad was a singer and used to do a lot of solos in church.  When I was very young, I’d plug my ears with my fingers when he’d get up to sing.  I usually got in trouble later for doing that.  As time went on, I became more tolerant, though I can’t say I was ever a great fan of his singing.  I feel comfortable in saying this openly because it’s common knowledge, most of all to my dad.  Anyway, I had visions of him sitting up in Heaven with his fingers in his ears.

I sang “Softly and Tenderly”, which is a hymn I discovered while heavily into karaoke.  Indeed, I used a karaoke track to accompany myself, since it was the easiest thing to do from thousands of miles away.  The version I used is on the soundtrack for the movie, The Apostle, although curiously enough, on the soundtrack it’s an instrumental.  A vocal version by Rebecca Lynn Howard is also on the soundtrack, but it’s different than the one I did.  No matter, though, since I actually prefer the instrumental version.  If you’re curious…

I recorded this a few days after my dad died in July.

So anyway, because I was singing, we had to get to the church early.  It was bitterly cold outside, but otherwise a clear, sunny day.  I had changed from more weather appropriate attire to a dress and a bright blue piano shawl we bought in Spain last January.  Actually, only my feet got really cold.  I had strappy, sparkly sandals with no hose.  But they looked prettier and were more comfortable than the black pumps I have, which make me walk like an old lady.

We had rehearsed the song two days prior and got the sound system all set up.  I was able to sing it from memory then and it sounded good, though one never knows how things will turn out when there are people in attendance.  Of course, as we left the church, a big wad of snow fell off the church roof and I got the feeling it was my dad throwing a snowball at me.  That’s the kind of thing he would have done.  I kind of knew it was going to be alright after that.  Sure enough, it was.  I stepped up to the mic, my nerves alive and buzzing.  At first, my voice came out a bit tremulous because I was nervous and emotional, but then I relaxed a bit and it turned out very nicely.  I think my dad was probably pleased.

My cousin, Karen, also performed.  She sang “Psalm 23”, accompanying herself on her guitar.  I wish I could play guitar, especially as well as she does.  There was also supposed to be a rendition of “Amazing Grace”, but apparently none of the musicians in the house got the message.  The pastor joked “The Lord wills otherwise.” when no one answered the call to perform that standard during the service.

My hilarious Uncle Carl introduced sort of an “open mic” for anyone and everyone who wanted to talk about my dad.  Carl was followed by my Uncle Ed, who needed no mic to tell us a hilarious story about growing up with my dad.  Several other people came up to speak, including Zeke Finney, a fellow VMI grad and choir member at the church I grew up in.  His wife used to occupy me during church services because my mom was always playing the organ and my dad was always in the choir.  My sisters were, by then, mostly out of the house.  Two of my sisters spoke.  One recited a poem she wrote.  Another simply stole the show with heartfelt and funny comments about our dad.  I got to see Sue, my lone cousin on my mom’s side.  She lives nearby.  Last time I saw her was at my wedding in November 2002.  She looked good– and tiny, like my sister Becky.

After the service, there was a reception and I got to meet more of my dad’s friends.  Another sister presented a very moving video about my dad’s life.  There were a lot of photos in the movie that I’d never seen before and a few that I contributed.  I would have added a few more, but all my pictures are in storage in Texas.

At the end of the video, we got our rendition of “Amazing Grace”… it came from my dad himself.  My sister found a recording of him performing it.  It had been years since I had last heard his singing voice.  I resisted the urge to put my fingers in my ears and am a better person for it.  Some things never change.  In all seriousness, it was very fitting that we had a recording of him singing.  Music was one of my dad’s true passions.  I think he passed that passion on to me.

Bill takes in the view from the hillside where my dad is now at rest.

My Georgia cousins…

The whole family… minus about 20 or so.

A rare shot with my sisters.  They look great… I probably need to lay off the German beer.  But at least I have a pretty smile on my face!

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Our big trip to Virginia… part two!

In case you weren’t paying attention last week, we had quite a bit of rare weather.  Bill and I got caught in the middle of a Nor’easter, which started as we were getting out of the DC area on Wednesday.  We left early in the morning hoping to avoid traffic hell, but by the time we got to the outskirts of the DC metropolitan area, there were big fat snowflakes falling.  The snow wasn’t too bad, though.  It made everything pretty.  There were a few accidents, including a jackknifed tractor trailer, on the way south to Natural Bridge.  Most people, by and large, were safe though.  And I didn’t see a whole lot of people braving the storm anyway.

We stopped in a convenience store so I could have a potty break.  While we were in there, I noticed someone wiped a huge booger on the door of the bathroom stall.  I was almost tempted to photograph it for posterity, but I decided it was better to be a grown up.

I decided to photograph this sign instead.

I don’t remember the last time I saw snow in Virginia during November.

We went straight to the Kroger once we got to Lexington and picked up some snacks and drinks for the festivities at my aunt’s and uncle’s house.  I picked up chips, cookies, beer, wine, water, and soda.  Evidently, I picked up one too few soda packs, since the cashier told us we could use a Kroger card to get a deal.  I pissed off a woman behind us when I dashed off to get another 12 pack of soda.  Doing that saved us $11.

The Kroger parking lot…

We were among the first to arrive for the festivities and were greeted by my cousin, Brad.  Brad and I used to live in the same neighborhood when we were very young.  We fought like cats and dogs, too.  But he was hard at work at Granny’s house and even helped Bill when he got stuck trying to get out of the driveway.  One nice thing about getting older is getting past all the stupid childhood fights.  I can say that now, Brad and I get along just fine!

My late Granny’s house is a very homey place.  There’s a creek that runs in front of the house where generations of kids have played, including yours truly.  There’s another creek that runs perpendicular to the one that goes in front of the house.  Most of us have fallen in either creek at least once or twice in a lifetime.  I have many great memories of visiting.  I love to leave the window open at night and listen to the creek rush by.  And I love to remember all the many times my cousins and I vandalized the closet under the stairs when we used it as an impromptu clubhouse.  I bet there aren’t too many homes as well loved as my Granny’s house has been.

Me and Granny at her house in August 1972.  I was maybe 6 weeks old…

Someone in my family has lived in that house since 1937.  It started out as a rental and was later purchased by my grandfather, who ended up selling off most of the 55 acres he’d bought with the house.  Later, my Uncle Brownlee and his wife, Gayle, bought the house.  I hope it will pass on to someone in the family when it comes time for them to pass the torch.  It’s a very special place.

There was good attendance this year at the reunion.  Only a few folks were missing.  Consequently, things got very crowded in the house as people piled in for dinner and football watching.  I didn’t see a lot of game playing going on.  Usually, someone starts a card game or a horseshoe match.  This year, I think the weather was too crappy and bitterly cold.  By the time it cleared up a bit, people were on their way home.

Thanksgiving dinner was a huge affair with plenty of food brought by relatives.  My favorite part was the corn casserole, which I think my cousin Clark’s wife, Chris, made.  That stuff is like crack!  Someone else made a killer batch of macaroni and cheese.  It’s not quite as good as mine, but it was pretty damn good.

We didn’t stay too long for Thanksgiving because the house was really crowded and I had to sing the next day.  We had our memorial for my dad and I was determined not to screw it up.

Granny on a motorcycle…  

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Our big trip to Virginia, part one– Hummingbird Inn review

I have already written about our air travel from Germany to Washington, DC and our one night stay at Embassy Suites near Dulles Airport.  Now for the rest of the story…

Bill and I opted to stay at the Hummingbird Inn in Goshen, Virginia.  This bed and breakfast is located near Goshen Pass, which has a very special place in our hearts.  I think it’s kind of where we fell in love.

The Hummingbird Inn right after a rare November snow…

Backstory… skip this if all you want to read about is our experience this year… 

My first memory of Goshen Pass was from childhood, when my family had a big birthday party there in June of 1978.  For years, I thought the party was for my benefit, but actually it was for a few family members.  My beloved Uncle Brownlee’s birthday is the day after mine, and there are also many other June birthdays to celebrate among cousins.  Anyway, that year, I turned six and we had just come back to Virginia from Mildenhall Air Force Base in England.  It was the first exposure to my enormous family that I can remember, though I’m sure there were other gatherings before our three years in England.

Goshen Pass

Many years later, Bill and I had one of our first dates at Goshen Pass.  The year was 2001 and the month was September.  Bill had just moved from Leavenworth, Kansas to Alexandria, Virginia.  He was working at the Pentagon.  I was in graduate school at the University of South Carolina.  We came up to see my Granny, then 95 years old, for Labor Day weekend.  It was Bill’s first exposure to my family and, fortunately, he fit right in.  Uncle Brownlee was cooking eggs in his underwear and asked Bill if he wanted one.  He added in his hilarious southern twang, “I mean it.  I’ll knock a hole in one for ya!”

We didn’t swim this time, but it sure is pretty…

The weather on that Saturday before Labor Day was absolutely gorgeous.  I told Bill I wanted to go to Goshen and see it again, even though it had been many years since my last visit.  He agreed, so we went, parked on the side of the road, and enjoyed a positively awesome day swimming in the Maury River.

The rest of that weekend was equally amazing.  It culminated when Granny, the family matriarch, told me that she liked Bill.  She said I should marry him, adding that she wished my cousin Suzanne would find a guy as nice as Bill, too.

A week later, Bill was in the Pentagon working.  It was 9/11 and his office was in the area that was hit by the jet airliner.  I didn’t know if he was alive or dead all day.  At that time, we were still calling ourselves friends, but it was pretty obvious to everyone that we were beyond friendship.  When he later came on the computer to tell me he’d survived, I told him it was probably time we went more public with our relationship.  He agreed.  A few months later, we were engaged and the following year, we got married.  It’s been all good since then.

Bill’s mother, Parker, booked us two nights at the Hummingbird Inn for our honeymoon.  At that time, the inn was run by the Robinsons.  I don’t remember if the husband half of the couple was British, but I do remember the wife was.  She was an amazing cook.  We stayed in the Teter Wood room, which was on the first floor and had its own private entrance.  I left the inn vowing to learn how to make a cheese souffle, which I did.

Now we’re in the year 2014…

So this year, after considering all of the hotel properties in the Lexington/Rockbridge County area, I decided we should go back to the Hummingbird Inn.  I chose the inn because it was priced fairly reasonably compared to the two star motels in Lexington.  Also, we just celebrated our 12th anniversary.  I booked on Expedia.com for four nights, paying about $600 or so.  This time, Bill and I stayed in the Robinson room, which was named after Jeremy and Diana Robinson,  the very same couple who owned the inn when we stayed there in 2002.  Apparently, they were the ones who got the Hummingbird Inn back in business.  Our room was where they lived and it was sort of interesting, because it had its own little foyer area.

The bedroom

 

The sheets on our bed came from Comphy, which is a company that makes sheets for hotels and spas.  They are super soft!  Bill and I were both raving about them.  Those who like the sheets can arrange to order them through the Hummingbird Inn.  I probably would have ordered a set myself if I hadn’t just bought new sheets that I love.

Foyer

Bathroom.  Has a shower only.

Foyer going the other way.  

Bill settling in…

The Hummingbird Inn is now owned and operated by Dan and Patty Harrison, a couple of California transplants who have enjoyed quite a variety of different life experiences together.  I really enjoyed getting to know the Harrisons, who are very personable and hospitable.  They scored extra points with me for leaving chocolate in strategic locations around the house.  We also appreciated the free WiFi, though it’s a bit on the slow side.  Given how remote Goshen is and how big the house is, that’s not a surprise.  A “public” computer with Internet access is available to those who didn’t bring their own.  There are also books, board games, puzzles, and movies aplenty to occupy your attention should you not find anything to do nearby.

My sister, Becky, joined us for three nights.  She and her cat, Oliver, stayed in the Teter Wood room, our “honeymoon” suite from 2002.

Goshen is not all that close to our family festivities– it’s about 30 miles as the crow flies from Goshen to Natural Bridge, Virginia, which is where our “homeplace” is.  But the drive there on route 39 is simply gorgeous.  There are plenty of places to pull off and take photos if you are so inclined.  If you’d rather not take a winding road, you can get to Goshen via Interstate 64, which is about ten miles from the inn.

It was snowing as we drove in, which created some magical scenery…

Breakfast is served every day at 9:00 and we found it to be substantial and quite tasty.  Each day, we had a fruit starter, then an egg dish with a meat side and potatoes.  One day, it was quiche.  Another, it was a delicious fritata.  Another day, we had a bacon and feta cheese casserole.  We missed breakfast one morning because we had to leave before 9:00.

Those who need something before 9:00 can help themselves to fresh baked pastries, coffee, and tea.  To be very honest, I wasn’t too wild about the coffee at the inn, though I was glad to see they had real half & half available.   The coffee offered at breakfast was a little too weak for me, though there is a Keurig available during the rest of the day. The tea was good, though, and made a sufficient substitute.  I also really liked the orange juice we were served.

I didn’t get a chance to walk around the inn to see the creek that runs in the back, but I did hear it.  I also heard trains.  There are lots of them and they run right in front of the house.  They didn’t bother us while we were there this time, but I did notice them during our first stay.  Maybe it’s because we were newlyweds!

Bill and I enjoyed hanging out with the other guests in attendance, too.  We met a very nice couple from the DC area… well, they weren’t really from there.  They live there because the husband is a retired colonel taking advantage of his years in the military in the form of a decent job.  Bill talked shop with the male half, while the female half and I compared notes on being retired Army wives.  It was a lot of fun!

We also met a gentleman who came up from Georgia to see his family.  He said there were over twenty of them in attendance, but his eyebrows raised when I said we have over 80 at ours!  Turns out he lives in the same area as a number of my relatives do, too.

We had a great stay at the Hummingbird Inn, a place that seems to be very popular with hunters.  There were a couple staying there during our weekend there and I remember one or two during our first stay in 2002.  I’m not sure when we’ll get back to Rockbridge County, but to anyone else heading there, I’d recommend a stay with Patty and Dan Harrison at the Hummingbird Inn.  It’s a great place to go if you need to unplug.

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