A Band of Friends and Back Roads

So for a few months Elliott and I had been walking different paths, and decided to break up. I had been depressed for months, and really needed to get my life back on track. Thankfully, I have some incredible friends, who all rallied round and helped me get back in sync, and back to the life I'd been missing. I have 2 small groups of lady friends, and decided to bring them together for a Ladies Night Party at my house. I'd spent weeks cleaning and getting my home exactly how I wanted it, and was excited to show it off and use it to entertain again. A couple of ladies from each group showed up early, and we promptly filled some glasses with wine and beer. I could tell immediately this was going to be a successful night, everyone was getting along splendidly.

Everyone invited turned up, so we had a group of 11. The house was toured, with me relishing every 'ooh' and 'aah'. Chairs from the front porch were hauled in and everyone managed to find a spot. Carol had brought a record player with a box of vinyl, so we had superb music. There was enough food to feed a battalion, everyone had outdone themselves, and the dining room table was loaded. There were even pretty little gifts of flowers, a plant, and pottery. And of course, there was the equivalent of a vat of wine. Bottles lined the kitchen countertops, and I was surprised to see that the beer was hardly touched. We were being civilized this evening, with heavy reds, sparking whites and port. Then the lovely twins from up the road turned up, with a huge bottle of Jamesons whiskey. We could party all weekend if we wanted.

The ladies noshed and nattered throughout the evening, and I was elated to see everyone getting on so well. I was already planning a summer party for the group when we could be outside, enjoying the garden and flowers. This group acted like they’d all known each other for years, not a few hours.

Jenn had planned well, she'd brought Joking Hazard, a game similar to Cards against Humanity, but funnier, and also New Phone, Who Dis?, another spinoff, but based on text messages. We chose the latter, divided up into 4 groups, and battle commenced. The room was filled with howls of laughter, and we played a few rounds before declaring the evening should come to an end. And this was where my friends outdid themselves. There was a lot of food left, which the ladies wrapped and put in the fridge. Trash was stashed into a black bag. Some foods were taken away, bowls and glasses were stacked, and the dining room was left immaculate. I couldn't believe it, I had very little to do the next morning.

And so, I woke up on Sunday, with a thumping head and a message from Jen, inviting me downtown for a coffee. The headache was dispelled with lots of water and Advil, then after cleaning up the glasses from last night, I was downtown, sipping coffee with Jen.

Jen had mentioned that the new Ghostbuster car was in town, promoting the new movie's opening weekend, and sure enough, as we sat chatting by the coffee shop window, a posse of ghostbusters walked past, on their way to the cinema, carrying their ghost-catching equipment. After coffee, we walked up to see the car, but it wasn't as impressive as the original vehicle, which as a former hearse, had a lot more street cred. We checked out the local pottery, and then parted company. Jen was going to a winery, she has more stamina than me, that's for sure! 

I was driving down to New Market, to see if I could get anywhere near to the forest fires in the region. Rte 11 across the mountain to Luray was closed, and I'd heard reports that the old National Forest Visitor Center had burned down, as well as Dan's Steakhouse. I was sad to hear this, especially the steakhouse, a place I'd been meaning to visit, after hearing their steaks were top notch. I wonder if they'll rebuild. I'd also heard through the grapevine that about 18 houses had been burned. Front Royal residents have been offering Airbnb homes for displaced families, and meadows for any farm animals that needed to be evacuated. We'd had heavy rain overnight, but as an ex-firefighter, I knew one heavy rain would not extinguish them. But I had hoped it might at least open some roads.

The police were blocking roads they didn't want people driving on, so I headed off towards the back dirt roads. Driving through the George Washington forest I had these to myself, there was no other traffic. I had no phone signal so had to read the map on my phone like an old mapbook, constantly checking I was going in the right direction. With windows down, and driving very slowly, it was gorgeous, breathing in the fresh, crisp air. I was amazed that there was no smoke to be seen, but that was a good thing, although I was also very conscious of the fact that I couldn't see or hear any birds.

The shack above made me stop and reverse back for a closer inspection. It was hard to see through the trees, and I was a little apprehensive in case the resident strode out with a shotgun, but this was actually a small caravan, which had been completely encased with a wooden shed-like structure. There were no windows in the wooden sides, only a small opening for the caravan door. Very odd.

I spent some time circling around Short Mountain, marveling at how close I was to 'The Knob', a landmark spur, which is clearly visible from Rte 81. High up on the mountain, there were a lot of caravans, folks living off the grid, although a few had power lines. I didn't stop near any of these as the owners were mostly staring at me, and not in a friendly way. I guess they don't see much traffic up here, except other residents. There were also plenty of 'no trespassing' signs, so I stayed inside the car. 

I had driven quite a few dirt tracks, weaving up and up through the mountain range, and without passing any other vehicles, so was completely amazed when I rounded a corner to see a police car and a park ranger van, with a police lady, and 2 rangers, who were Amish identical twins, with bright ginger beards. The 3 of them stood in the road as I approached, and all 3 were beaming broadly. It was infectious, so I beamed right back at them and came to a stop, winding my window down. I would have loved to ask for a photo of them, but didn't want to spoil the moment. They all approached and ducked down, smiling from ear to ear through my open window. I don't think they'd seen any other people for a while and were all happy to chat. They let me know that although the rain had damped some of the fires, there were still hot spots and flames on higher ground. They very kindly directed me back down to the valley, and waved me on my way.

I gave up my hunt for wildfires after that very sociable encounter, and found another dirt road that wound its way alongside a creek and in the direction of home. Again, I saw very few people, but there were plenty of newborn calves and lambs frolicking in the fields, and a fabulous white sycamore brightly lit by the sunshine. I stopped for a minute or two to admire its white bark shining in the sunlight, and then slowly made my way back to Front Royal.

A Snowy Road leads to Lizards

I woke up on Saturday, expecting to see the 5" of snow that had been forecast, and wondering how it would affect my day's plans. I was elated to look out of the window and see a mere 2" on the ground, yet it was a winter wonderland. All the trees and bushes were balancing a coating of white powder on their branches, and then I realized that all the roads were completely clear. Joy! I would still be able to get out and enjoy the scenery. I was meeting a friend later that morning, so grabbed my camera, and began driving the back roads towards Berryville.

Despite the roads being completely clear, there was very little traffic, so I was able to drive slowly and stop often to take photos without being a bother to anyone else. The countryside was beautiful, serenely peaceful, the quiet only broken by the chatter of birds as they hopped among the branches. A brilliant blue sky broke through clusters of clouds, and occasionally the wind would blow a dusting of powdery snow across the road, or nudge clumps down to the ground, as I stood on the verges with my camera. The snow was supposed to melt quickly with the promised higher temperatures during the day, but it was bitterly cold here in the countryside.

I constantly checked the time while I was photographing this beautiful scenery, slowly working my way north, and eventually arrived in Berryville, where a Reptile Expo was taking place. I'd never been to one before, and wanted to add this to my list of experiences. My friend, Angelina, has 21 spiders, as well as snakes and other reptilian pets, so I was happy she was joining me, with her knowledge of these animals and events.

 I have to admit that I was shocked when I entered the first building, my initial sight being a table laden with multiple clear plastic pots containing geckos. My immediate reaction was that this was a cruel practice, these poor creatures crammed into containers, with no food or water, and hoards of humans peering at them and picking them up. I asked a couple of vendors about this, and was told that they were fine, they didn't need food or water for the short period of time that they were there, from 9am to 3pm. Yet how long were they sitting in these 'pots' during transit, and before the show started, and before they were released into bigger containers when they got 'home', I wondered. 

This is Alien, a very big, but placid, python. Her owner had only had her for 3 months, yet she was obviously well used to being handled. I was allowed to hold her, and she immediately wound herself around my neck and rested her head on the hood of my jacket. She enjoyed being stroked and I could have stood there all day caressing her, she was so sweet. I reluctantly gave her back to the vendor after a 5 minute snuggle, and looked at the other snakes in their small plastic containers.

Above, we have a male Super Banana Clown snake, at $1000, a couple of Mountain Horned Dragons at $25 each, a very handsome Blue Tongue skink at $150, and 2 Solomon Island Mangrove Monitors at $100 each. All of these appealed to me, but not enough to want to own any, although maintenance isn’t that difficult apparently.

The ‘creepy crawly’ critters were a different story. I really didn’t want to get close to any of these, paranoid that they’d heave their lids off and jump on me. I tried very hard to see them through Angelina’s eyes as she, very knowledgeably, described their traits and needs. The spider was a Goliath Bird Eating Tarantula, and the Vietnamese Giant Centipede wasn’t charming me either. I imagine both of these can move very fast.

I think this chap was a Bearded Dragon. I was so captivated by him that I forgot to look at his label. His owner had opened her laptop and left it running, so he could snooze on the warm keyboard. He looked very content, but did open one eye, somehow aware that I was staring at him.

The expo had definitely been an eye-opener for me, and I was glad that I went, but when Angelina suggested going to another in Manassas next month, I declined. I’d seen some incredible creatures, and the ones I’d really loved, the jumping spiders, I hadn’t got photos of. I was amazed that people kept them as pets, yet the vendors were selling gaudy plastic houses for them, filled with plastic figurines, plastic foliage, and beads and baubles. I see these cute little spiders in the garden, and had never considered catching them to keep indoors. I prefer to see them on living flowers and plants. But they were very popular at the expo, especially with kids.

I’d been amazed at how many people turned up for this event, both of the big barns were crowded, with long queues of folk outside the doors. With over 100 vendors, selling everything needed to set up a reptile home, it was incredibly busy, and until this visit, I’d had no idea how popular reptiles were, yet money was being passed over the tables continuously. Vendor tables had all been taken by the beginning of January, and the event had had no plans to postpone, despite the snow forecast. Angelina bought quite a lot of stuff. A live baby mouse and a frozen rabbit to feed her snakes, some cork bark for aquariums, and 2 more spiders. I bought a prayer plant.

Back Trails and Buttons

 On Friday, I strapped up my toe, my ankle, and leaving my knee to fend for itself, set off for a short hike. Up on the Skyline Drive, it was quiet and cold. There were few people about, even the lookouts were empty of visitors, a shame,  as the views were magnificent.

I spotted a grassy lay by, with a trail heading up onto the mountain, so parked up, grabbed my backpack and poles, and began walking. The air was crisp and quiet. I heard a couple of cars pass on the road behind me, but as I climbed, the traffic sounds faded away, and silence surrounded me. At the top of the trail, a marker told me I was now on the Appalachian Trail, and could go left or right. I went left, stopping to admire the spectacular vistas.

I was now walking along the top of the mountain, where the trees are short and stubby, due to them being exposed to the elements, including heavy winds. But today, there was no wind, just fresh, chilly air punctuated occasionally with a few crow cries and the chatter of squirrels, angry at  having their peace and quiet disturbed by a human. Yet, despite dealing with adverse conditions, nature is thriving up here. Bright green lichens cover the trees and rocks, with glorious clumps of emerald mosses. Shelf fungi clung to fallen trunks and the autumn leaves shimmered on the ground in the winter sunshine. I looked for lions mane mushrooms, a fluffy, tendriled mushroom, on the trees, but there were none of their host trees up here on the exposed ridge line.

I walked 2 miles along the AT, the trail descending down the side of the mountain, crossing the Skyline Drive, and then climbing back up again, then down and up some more before I decided to stop. I sat on some huge rocks to drink water, and chewed a Cliff bar with an expiration date of September 2022. It didn’t taste any different from what I remembered, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. I gave myself a scare while I sat munching, as ahead of me, among the bare tree trunks, I saw a large black shape, and thought it was a bear that had got a whiff of my peanut bar. But after some scrutinizing and moving from side to side, I realized it was an uprooted tree, its bare root base facing me with black earth still clinging and hanging in clods.  But I hurriedly finished my snack and began the walk back.

Along a more sheltered part of the trail, there were large clumps of mountain laurel, their dark green, shiny leaves encroaching over the trail, beginning to form a tunnel. This will be a pretty spot in early spring when their white and pink flowers bloom. On the way up, I had noticed the path was covered with acorns. Called a mast year, when trees put out a bigger crop of seeds than usual, this is also a sign of a severe winter approaching, according to folklore and the Farmer’s Almanac. On the way back I stopped and picked up several handfuls, stuffing them in my backpack, for the squirrels and blue jays at home.

Heading home, I stopped at one of the lookouts, the Blue Ridge Mountains looking somber under the heavy winter sky. I felt a few drops of rain, and was glad to be warm and dry in Stanley as I drove back to The Blue House..

I had decided to get crafty on Thursday evening. I have a rose colored lampshade on a vintage lamp stand, given to me by friends many years ago. I used to like the lampshade, but have discovered it’s one commonly seen, so now I dislike it, as I prefer to be different. I pulled off the fabric, and decided to create something original.

Over 30 years ago, I bought an old gramophone cabinet, which, inside, had some old sewing bits and pieces, scissors, fabric tape measure, wooden reels of cotton, needle cases, other odds and ends, including a tub of vintage buttons. Moving from England, I parted with the cabinet, but kept the contents, as I was using them, and the buttons went into some ancient Balls canning jars for decoration. I tipped them out onto the dining room table, and with wire, started to recover the lampshade frame with old buttons.

It was going well, but after a while, my fingers were getting sore from the tugging and pulling on the wire. I did some more after my hike, and then finished it on Saturday morning. I had worried that I would run out of buttons, I used about 350, but I had plenty, and some still left over. So now, I have a lampshade unlike anyone else, and my vintage buttons are on display, instead of hidden in a jar. I’m content with that.