There and Back Again

I spent the weekend in Virginia, and am now, more than ever, in love with that place. The fall on the east coast is just breathtaking. I took a million pictures, but can’t post them until I get home, so you will just have to take my word for it until then.

After a week of pies and cookies and tea in Delaware, I went straight into a delicious lunch made from an artist’s take on a Virginian farmer’s market. Never have I seen cucumbers sliced in such a darling way. (Sadly, they still tasted like cucumbers. The only time I like cucumbers is when they’ve been drowned in vinegar for quite some time.) But the rest of the salad was delectable, even if I can’t pronounce the name of the leafy green I mistook for “lettuce.” Which was, apparently, blasphemy.

There was fresh artisan bread, real butter, and Chablis to wash it down. In short, it was a dreamy lunch. Then there was a walk in the park where my dad used to go sledding as a kid. The trees are the same, though just a little taller, according to my aunt.

Lesson learned: dirt trails covered in leaves were not meant to be navigated whilst wearing clogs and looking through an itty-bitty viewfinder.
Sincerely,
My Ankles

I had crepes for brunch here, and a snazzy dinner here. (Named for Marvin Gaye, and his self-imposed exile in Belgium. Who self-imposes exile in Belgium, I ask you? All that beer hardly seems very hard core exile-y.)

When I got back to work yesterday, there was an exciting email waiting for me in my inbox. Nothing’s official yet, but there may be good things in store. This has been a good trip so far.