Here are a few of the suggestions:
Gracie Beth at Preppy Southern Princess, and my facebook friend Sasha both thought I might like knitting. Seems like everyone is doing it these days, including my daughter. Yes, 'knit happens', but not in my house. zzzzzzz...lookin' for somethin' just a little more excitin', thank you very much.
Yeah, yeah, I know I can't sing, but, really...it is a cool song.
My family (on both Mama and Daddy's side) were some of Virginia's first settlers. As a matter of fact, my Dad is the first generation to not have been born here. Growing up, Grandad always told me stories about Virginia and the Appalachian mountains. They could always tell who was an 'outsider' by the way they pronounced "Appalachia." (Southerners pronounce it "Apple atcha".)
Even at that tender age I was very intrigued by her rich history. I mean, who wouldn't be? Virginia is the site of the first English settlement of what would later, of course, become the United States of America. She also played a major role in both the American Revolution (two of my 6th great-grandfathers participated) and the Civil War, or as we call it here, The War of Northern Agression,(in which another Grandfather and a handful of uncles and cousins fought valiantly.)
Virginia is also the birthplace of eight U.S. Presidents.
including my beloved George. ((swoon))
We have everything! Beautiful beaches, mountains, countryside. Big cities, medium cities, and small towns dotted along the way.
So, at 14, sitting in the back seat in complete and utter awe of the rolling hills, I begged my Dad to slow down so I could take it all in. Horses nibbling on emerald green grass, pastures enclosed by acres and acres of either white or cast iron fencing, the main estate manor/farm house sitting back in the faraway distance at the end of a long, tree lined drive. An Anglophile since birth, Virginia reminded me of every picture I'd ever seen of England. As Dad dutifully slowed the car down so I could get a better look, I secretly vowed to live here one day.
(Later in my early adult years after living in England, I found that I'd been right. The Virginia countryside is synonymous to Great Britain's.)
Perfect. I thought I was home.
Alas, Virginia, we didn't get off to a good start, you and I.
What I thought was a perfect neighborhood ended up being a nightmare. It's not your fault. It could have happened anywhere. It's over, I'm better for it and it's time to move on. Nonetheless, it was stupid of me to let it ruin the way I felt about you.
The fact is, we belong together. It's destiny. My DNA is in your soil - put there by the blood, sweat and tears of many generations before me.
So, it's time you and I got to know each other.
One weekend per month....
I will steer clear (pun intended) of the major highways and byways and take the road less travelled. No Wal-Marts, McDonalds, or chain-store-franchise-anything. Nothing but the fruits of the hard-working, sweat of their brow, down-home folks of each community I visit.