Blue Ridge Blues...

I spent yesterday driving south on the Blue Ridge Parkway, through the mountains of Virginia and North Carolina. It was a gorgeous drive, though I am LATE. The leaves have mostly fallen. The mountains were still blue, though. I guess that isn't a seasonal phenomenon. Thank goodness. I stopped in Boone, which is supposedly a cool town, but I have to say that November, as a season, doesn't do any visual favors for most parts of eastern USA. It was pretty brown. They have a health food store, though, and whenever I am feeling lost, I can usually find myself, and my way, in one of those purveyors of all things natural. [Sometimes when I am writing, I have to wonder where the words come from. I think, "I didn't know that word was in my vocabulary, and I have no idea if I just used it appropriately". So, my apologies for any inadvertently misused and abused pieces of the English language!] I bought gluten-free ginger bread men, butter, coconut ice cream, rice crackers and chevre. Hormonal cravings sure are bizarre.

I finally made it to Weaverville, NC, outside of Asheville, to the cozy home of my friend and dancing buddy, Becca, and her sweetie, Harrison. They had made me a delicious dinner, but I was so full of gingerbread men that I only had room for tea. (Until later on, when I had lots of room for my ice cream. Funny how that works). I got to sleep in their cozy little casa that is a recently renovated chicken coop! When Becca talked about scooping out the poop and knocking down walls, it reminded me of the creation of the elementary school that I attended. I still remember walking around the dusty stalls of the barn that we later converted to a house of learning. So funny the different lives that buildings can live.