And so this weekend came around and I had made no plans whatsoever. I have to admit that I didn't look too hard for things to do and by Friday evening was very pleased when no last minute options popped up. It was a miserable day on Saturday but so delicious to lay in bed listening to the rain thundering on the tin roof as I snuggled under the covers with the cats and watched the grey sky out of my window with the dark wet branches of the trees swishing back and forth. I managed this slothful existence until 9am but by then was getting a little restless and was anxious to start moving about. So I ran back and forth in the house vacuuming, dusting washing floorboards and getting laundry done. After a couple of hours of frenetic energy I felt rightly justified in spending the afternoon laying on the sofa watching old movies and admiring my handiwork as I glanced around the house from underneath my warm fleeces and pillows, once again accompanied by Kota and Rosie Lee. Not a twinge of guilt at any time for not visiting a place or person or exploring a new destination.
Sunday was only a little better in that the rain had more or less stopped but it was cold out, so suffering from a little cabin fever I drove out into the countryside, choosing roads I'd not taken before and finding a lot of them no more than dirt tracks, full of deep puddles that I loved aiming my tires at and glossy red mud that I skidded through.
An old Volkswagen holed up here, not looking like it's moved for a while.
I had to look up these trees, they're white sycamores. I always notice them in the winter time, they look so gnarly yet so beautiful with their white branches, like something out of a fairy story. I'll think I'll have to start a photo collection of these.
There's some nice old barns out in these rural fields, some of which are neglected and left to themselves to try and remain upright, but there are a few whose owners have lovingly restored them, standing proud in the bare fields. I came across a couple of these tiny sheds, both decorated with Christmas wreaths but both belonging to different farmers. I wonder if there's any significance to this since the larger barns had no such adornments. I didn't see a farmer to ask.
And then I spotted a little abandoned house and had to leave the warmth of the car to explore it.
Although there hadn't been any human residents here for a while, there was plenty of evidence that many little animals were living here, nests and bedding filled every shelf, nook and cranny, it was so sweet. I actually felt like I was disturbing their peace and quiet so quickly finishing nosing about and left.
I later emerged from the muddy narrow lanes back onto more even tarmac that led towards home. I stopped at the IGA to pick up some groceries for the upcoming week. I love shopping at the rural stores and rarely bother anymore with picking up necessities while I'm at work in northern VA. Here in Marshall, and with every other little rustic town, I can purchase fresh local goods and get served with a smile. And not just a smile. We chat about the weather, the news and today we talked about how wonderful liver and bacon casserole is, because those ingredients were being packed into my bag. Anybody else in the queue will join in with the conversation or just listen, no cranky remarks about needing to hurry up and finish the transaction because there's other folks waiting. The monetary transaction is always completed with a 'please' and a 'thank you' along with a cheery 'goodbye', and I leave the store feeling like I was really made welcome.
And so feeling content I rounded off my weekend in the same way it had started, kicking back on the sofa, relaxing in front of the fire with the cats, and reading a book through the last hours of Sunday.
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