Archive for Life

Life

Living in a Christmas Movie

I haven’t done my usual binge of TV Christmas movies this year, and that may be because I feel like I’m living one. I’m the city girl who moved to a quaint little mountain town that has a bunch of customs and festivals. I feel like a Hallmark movie is going to break out at any moment.

I’ve spent the last couple of Saturdays caroling in the picturesque Victorian downtown full of cute little shops. There’s a downtown music school that puts this together, supposedly for their students, but they welcome the whole community to join in. There’s a bit of warming up and practice at the music school, then wandering the downtown area and pausing to sing. It was so much fun. Just about everyone in the group was a singer with some kind of training or choir experience, so we were throwing in things like harmonies and descants, and it sounded really good. People stopped to record us, and a lot of people took pictures. We added to the ambience for holiday shopping. Last Saturday, there were a number of events and other things going on downtown as part of the shopping day, so we ended up meeting with Father Christmas and “Merri Christmas” (his wife), who were dressed in Elizabethian-style attire (appropriate for the home of the American Shakespeare Center). Then just down the block we ran into the Grinch and Santa Claus. Santa was a signing Santa doing an event at the local Club for the Deaf, and he joined in with us, “singing” along in sign language. It turned out the Grinch could sign, too, and Santa and the Grinch were having conversations across the street, but I don’t know what they said. (I really need to learn sign language because there’s a large Deaf population in this town and all I can do is finger spell.) After roaming the main downtown area, we passed through the winter farmer’s market, sang a few songs inside the glass studio, where they already had some musicians playing (they accompanied us), and then made a stop at the brewpub, where they had a Christmas market in the beer garden. We sang for their Facebook Live to promote the market, then we had cocoa or beer before heading on to sing for diners in a restaurant, and we wrapped up at a spot where they have one of those public pianos on the sidewalk. It was all very fun and festive.

A group of people stand on the steps of an ornate early 20th century bank building, dressed for cold weather, holding music books. An old-fashioned Father Christmas in a fur hat stands with them.
Father Christmas (on the right) joined us for caroling in front of the old bank building. I’m the one in the long black coat in the middle.

Another tradition they have here is a holiday display along the road that runs through the park. Businesses, organizations, and individuals can set up displays, and the city provides electrical connections. We had a relatively warm evening this week, so I walked it. Some of the displays were blatant advertising, some were traditional Christmas scenes, some were pretty clever, some were pretty. As I walked around the loop, the Christmas movie was writing itself in my head. In the movie, there would be a prize (I don’t know if the real one is a competition), and the main characters would be competing for the prize because they need the recognition and prize money to save their business. Their displays would get more and more elaborate as they try to top each other, but then they’d learn about a charity that needed the recognition and money, so they’d team up to add stuff from their displays to the charity’s display.

A Christmas display designed to look like cut paper, showing the silhouette of an old church building with an arch over it and white lights giving it a glow against the night sky.
This was the light display in the park from the church I’ve been attending, showing the historic church building.

I’m probably going to stay inside this Saturday because I have housework and cookie baking to do and it’s going to be really cold. Then Sunday night the youth choir at the church I’ve been going to is having a concert, which is being followed by a carol singalong in the church hall (the reason I’m baking cookies). I might do a jaunt downtown on Tuesday, then there will be a candlelight service at night in the church. This church is a Gothic Revival church built in 1850 (the congregation dates to 1747) that’s on the National Register of Historic Places, and some of the stained glass windows are Tiffany originals. I imagine it will be magical on Christmas Eve with the candlelight.

We’re not supposed to be having any snow for Christmas itself, though there’s a chance for some flurries today. The mountains to the west will be getting snow, and that will be visible from here, so I’ll be able to see snow-covered mountains as I go out and about for the next few days. I need to get some nice boots I can walk in. All my boots have high heels, and it would be very Hallmark heroine of me to teeter around in snow in high-heeled boots (so I could fall and be caught by a guy wearing flannel), but I’ve lived around snow before and know that’s not a great idea. I live so close to the church that it feels weird to drive there, but the walk involves a pretty steep hill, and I wouldn’t want to try it in heels. My toes got a bit cold during the caroling, so my current shoes aren’t up to winters here.

I’m going to take a holiday blogging hiatus. There may be a year wrap-up post next Friday, but otherwise I’ll see you next year. Happy holidays!

Life

Back Home

I’m home again after more than a week away and after two long days of driving. I can’t make that drive too often, but I enjoy the thinking time along the way.

Something occurred to me as I got closer to home: I’ve now made that drive three times. The first time, I was on a vacation/recon mission to a place I’d been reading about but that I’d never visited to see if I liked it. The second time, I’d uprooted my whole life and was moving to an apartment I’d only seen online on a street I’d only seen online. This time, I was coming home, and it really felt like home, even though I was coming from a place I’ve considered home (though I’ve never actually lived in the house where my parents live now). I missed my mountains.

With Christmas coming so soon after Thanksgiving this year, it’s a good thing I got my fill of fall. We started getting fall-like weather and color in mid-August, and there were still a lot of pockets of red and gold leaves along the journey. But on the way back I got a real transition to Christmas mode, since it started snowing soon after I stopped for the night outside Nashville on day 1. It was a light snow, mostly just flakes dancing in the air, and the ground was warm, so it wasn’t sticking. The roads were clear the next morning, but there was a light dusting of snow on the hills facing the road. In spots, it was a heavier dusting, while in others there was just snow in the nooks and crannies. I’d made a playlist for the trip that mixed Christmas music in with other music, and the occasional Christmas song made a nice accompaniment to the scenery. It seems to have been a narrow band across northern Tennessee and southern Kentucky, reaching into southern Virginia. I dipped below it when the road went south to Knoxville, then came back into the snow when I turned north in far eastern Tennessee and headed for Virginia. There were some flurries there, but the roads were still clear and I never had to use my windshield wipers because the flakes were so light and my car is apparently so aerodynamic that the flakes just went up and over my car instead of hitting the windshield. It was a best-case scenario for snowy driving, just enough to make it pretty without affecting the roads or visibility. As I got farther north, I made it above the band of snow, and it was just green around my area. We’re supposed to get some snow tomorrow morning, though.

I’ve done my holiday travel for the year, and I already got my shopping done, gifts wrapped and left with my parents, so now I get to have a no-pressure holiday season. I’m not in a choir now, so there are no rehearsals or performances. I don’t have any parties I have to attend. There are a lot of local events that I can do, so I won’t be bored or lonely, but there’s nothing I must do. I can choose the things I want, or I can stay home in my pajamas, drink cocoa, and watch Christmas movies.

Among the activities are multiple Christmas markets, a group getting together to do caroling in the downtown shopping district on Saturdays, a couple of holiday teas in historic homes, a tour of historic homes, multiple church services and concerts, and a Christmas dinner at a church for anyone who might be alone (I plan to help out and eat with them). I could probably fill up all the weekend days and nights between now and Christmas, plus the week of Christmas, but I imagine there will be a few quiet days or nights at home, especially depending on the weather. It doesn’t feel as cold here for the temperature as it does back in Texas — I felt colder in the 40s in Texas than I did in the 30s in Virginia — but we’re going to have some days that are really cold. Right now, I’m waiting for it to go above freezing before I run some errands. One errand in the next couple of weeks may involve buying a new winter coat. I’m not sure my Texas “heavy” coats will be heavy enough for the weather here.

Life

Winter is Coming

I’ve loved the autumn here, but we got our first taste of winter yesterday. I was making dinner, looked out the kitchen window, and I thought I saw snow. A moment later, it was snowing so hard that I couldn’t see the houses a block away. It only lasted about five minutes and it was still above freezing, so we only got a light dusting and it didn’t stick for long.

A light dusting of snow covers the ground. A dark path leads from the camera toward the street, going between tall trees. In the background, red brick houses have snow-covered roofs.
If you squint, you might be able to see snow in this view from my front door.

The term they used on the TV weather report was “flurry squall,” which is apparently what you get when it snows hard enough to create limited visibility, but it’s for a very short time. It’s like a mini blizzard. To be a true blizzard, it has to snow long enough for there to be accumulation on the ground. If you’re caught in one of these while driving, it can be dangerous, but you’ll be out of it very quickly. If you’re not driving, it’s just pretty to look at for a few minutes.

We’re supposed to get more of those this afternoon. I already have bread rising to bake because it’s definitely the kind of day for that sort of thing. I hope to get some good writing done, if I’m not spending all day looking out the window for snow. My inner child definitely comes out the first moment I see a flake in the sky. From what I understand from people who’ve lived here a long time, they do get snow here, but it doesn’t stay around all winter. Most winter days it gets above freezing during the daytime, aside from occasional cold spells, so anything that falls only lasts a day or two. I’ll need to get a snow shovel to clear off my walk and dig out my car if I need to go anywhere, but I should be able to stock up on supplies based on the forecast and wait it out or else walk to get anything I need. I’ll have to see if I need to get snow boots or if my waterproof hiking boots will suffice. So far, I haven’t needed a heavier winter coat. I haven’t even used my existing winter coats, just lighter lined jackets or sweatshirts. It seems to feel warmer here than I’d expect based on the thermometer. I’ve walked downtown to go to church in just a light sweater with a lined suit coat over it when it was 39 degrees. I went out to look at the snow yesterday while wearing a sweater over a sweatshirt.

It’s supposed to warm up tomorrow and be windy enough that anything that falls today will be gone by tomorrow night. Which is good because I’m heading out for my Thanksgiving travel on Sunday. I’ll be heading over several rivers, through a lot of woods and over a couple of mountain ranges. I won’t be posting my blog next week, as I will be enjoying time with my family. I might post updates on social media, if you follow me on Facebook or BlueSky.

 

Life

Not My Home

It turns out that the house isn’t to be mine, after all, and I’m okay with that.

The inspection was Saturday afternoon, and my Realtor and I both went so we could see what the inspector found. I also wanted to take pictures and measurements. This meant that I was spending nearly two hours in the place. While I was seeing things I liked about it, I was also seeing some things I found a little unsettling. One of those was the house next door. When I looked out one of the upstairs windows that faced that house, I could see that it was in really bad shape, with holes in the outside walls, including one up under the eaves. My inspector even glanced over there and commented on it. They probably have a colony of either squirrels, raccoons, or bats living in that attic.

I also started noticing how narrow the doors were. In my online furniture shopping, I’d seen that they had a note about how the doorway had to be at least 32 inches for them to deliver a sofa, and when I measured I found that the front door and the living room door were only 31 inches wide. They must have had to deliver everything through the back door, which was wider, but which required going up some pretty steep steps from the deck. I noticed that the section of fence between the side yard and back yard by that part of the deck had been removed and was leaning against the side fence.

The inspection report wasn’t utterly alarming. The biggest worry for me was the fact that the roof was original to the house, which was built in 1900. It’s a tin roof, so I guess it doesn’t wear out like modern shingles do, but a number of the tin panels are bent, so wind and water can get up under them. The inspector recommended getting a tin roof expert to look at it and see what needed to be repaired. The basement was just a crawl space, not an actual basement, though it did have things like the water heater and interior unit for the air conditioner and heater in there. The floor was dirt, and the dirt from when it was excavated was piled up against one of the walls. The inspector suggested getting the basement sealed to prevent mold, bugs, etc., from getting in. He also said the house needed new rain gutters. He thought the basement stairs and back stairs to the deck needed to be replaced and were too steep, so they were unsafe.

The thing that I found a bit concerning that I hadn’t even considered was that there’s a big tree on the neighbor’s side of the property line that’s too close to both houses. It’s just about at the back end of the houses, barely five feet from both houses. A lot of that tree’s branches hang over what would have been my house’s roof, and he said a tree that tall would have a root system that could encroach on my basement or undermine my foundation, and if that tree fell in a windstorm, depending on how it fell it would either fall between the houses, so the branches would hit what would have been my bedroom; it would fall away from both houses, so the roots would come up under the rear corner of my house; it would fall on the neighbor’s house so the roots would dig up my basement; or it would fall on my house. He suggested getting together with the neighbor to have the tree removed because a tree that size shouldn’t be within ten feet of a house.

Once the inspector left, my Realtor and I were walking around, looking at the things he pointed out. Her husband’s a contractor, so she knows a lot about how to get stuff like that done, and we were trying to figure out what we might be able to ask the seller to fix and how much it would cost to fix the other stuff. The tree was a big question mark because it’s on the neighbor’s property, and given the condition of that building, we weren’t sure I could get the neighbor to do anything. While we were standing outside, I smelled smoke and commented that someone had their fireplace going. Then my Realtor noticed smoke coming from near the house next door.

She looked and saw that the leaves on the ground in front of that house were burning, and there was a kid nearby. She went into Mom mode and ran over to make sure the kid was okay. He just looked at her, shrugged, and said, “I like starting fires.”

My Realtor looked at me and mouthed, “Oh, no.” We noted then that the house next door had been divided into apartments. That meant there was probably a non-resident landlord, and he clearly didn’t care for maintaining the place, so tracking him down to get the tree dealt with wouldn’t be easy. I might not even be able to get anything done if the tree actually fell on my place. I’d have to find out who the owner was and find a way to contact him. Beyond that, I wasn’t super keen on living next door to a poorly maintained apartment building that houses a kid who likes to start fires. Even aside from the fires, those houses have street parking (since they were built before cars were common), and if there are three families in one building, that means they take up a lot of parking. They were parked in front of what would have been my house, so I might not always have been able to park at my house.

The Realtor apologized for not having noticed all this before I paid for the inspection. She said I couldn’t cancel the contract based on the neighbors, but there was enough in the inspection report to give me grounds to back out. That was what I decided to do because the roof plus the gutters plus the basement, plus the steps, plus the tree added to the neighboring house and the kid who likes to start fires was all too much.

Oddly, this came as a huge relief. I did like a lot about the house. I’ve loved the idea of living in a Victorian home since I was a kid. But I think I was trying to force it. I was so eager about finding a place and getting that worry out of the way (since the market is pretty tight) that I jumped at something that would kind of work and ignored the vague sense of disappointment underlying it because it never felt right. I have this sense of my home in my head, and no matter how much I tried mentally arranging my furniture in this house and no matter how much online shopping I did for furnishings, I never managed to make this house the house in my head. The head house refused to be replaced, and I felt a sense of loss for not having the head house, if that makes any sense. The moment I had a good reason not to take this house, I felt so much better.

I learned so much from that inspection, though. I have a really good checklist of things to look for before I go so far as to make an offer. I know I need to spend a lot more time in the house before I decide. I need to walk the block and around to the block behind to get a sense of the neighborhood. I did drive down that street, but it’s a narrow street on a hill, so I didn’t notice the three mailboxes on the front of that house next door while I had my eyes on the road. I need to walk it to get a good sense of what’s there and what the neighborhood feels like. I’ve been driving around the neighborhoods I like at various times and had never considered this one, so I need to explore it a bit more.

This means I won’t be having to move right away, so I need to buckle down and work on my writing in the meantime. I’ll probably start the serious house hunting after Thanksgiving. I have until May to move out of this apartment, and I can always go month-to-month if I have to after that.

writing, Life

Life and Fiction

I found myself going down a mental rabbit trail last night as I thought about how all my books seem to represent the phase of life I’m in at that time and things that are going on with me.

When I came up with the idea for the Enchanted, Inc. series, I was working for a major international public relations agency, doing PR for big corporations. I worked with a lot of Mimis and Gregors, both in the organization I was in and in client organizations. The first spark of the idea came when I was getting ready to log in to my e-mail and I found myself wishing that there would be a job offer in it. At the same time, my writing career was struggling. I’d had quick initial success but had gone a long time without being able to sell a book, in spite of a lot of trying. My main problem turned out to be that I was writing the wrong thing, something I didn’t actually enjoy. I hadn’t discovered my secret magical strength, I guess, and I was in the wrong place. Meanwhile, I was still trying to date and going on a lot of blind dates and setups. I had hopes of finding Mr. Right and having a family.

So I wrote a series about a young woman who thinks her life is on the brink of failure, but it turns out she’s just in the wrong place because she has skills she doesn’t even know she has. Once she finds what she can really do and contribute, she finds where she belongs, and everything falls into place for her.

The Fairy Tale series was a weird one because it involved a character who came to me in a dream decades earlier being slotted into an image that I dreamed, and then a story built around it based on all those editors who said they wanted something like Enchanted, Inc. but they didn’t want to continue that series. I started working on it not long after I learned that the series was being dropped by the publisher. I think at the time I was dealing with a lot of doubts about my potential and whether I was holding myself back. That came out in Sophie’s background of her having been so talented but then she felt like she had to give it all up. She was stuck until she was forced to take action and face everything. The time I was writing it was a difficult one for me, and that probably came through in the story.

I don’t think Rebel Mechanics came from anything in particular in my life. It’s probably my most political series, as it came from seeing what was going on in the world. It feels like we’re in a second Gilded Age, when so much of the wealth is concentrated in a few people who are living obscenely opulent lives while resisting paying taxes or paying their employees, and they have so much power over everyone else. That translated into wondering how it would work if they had literal magical power. I think the analogy is more apt now than ever, but I’m not sure I’m up for dealing with that world right now. It would be an unsettling place to dwell in for me. At some point, it might become cathartic to write about toppling everything, but to get there you have to be in the bad part of it.

The mysteries definitely reflect where I was when I was writing them. I started writing the first book at around the same time I started thinking about moving somewhere else. I didn’t have a target at the time, but I knew I wanted to get away from a major metropolitan area. So, I created a small town for my heroine to go to. The eerie thing is that the town I created is so much like the town I ended up moving to, and I’d written at least three of those books before I even heard about this town. My current town is much bigger than the one in the books and a lot hillier, and it’s laid out differently, but there’s a lot in common. We have the preserved Victorian main street with shops and restaurants on the ground floor and apartments and offices above. There’s even an old movie theater next door to a Mexican restaurant (but it’s a first-run theater instead of just showing classics). There’s a co-working hub like the one in the books (and now I don’t remember how much of that ended up in the books. I wrote whole scenes involving it that I think got cut). There’s a park with a bandstand gazebo where they hold concerts and where they did the July 4 festivities. Our rail station is active for passenger rail, both Amtrak and sightseeing excursions, unlike the one in the books. The downtown area is surrounded by historic homes, though ours are a bit older than you’d find in most Texas towns. The house I’m buying that was built in 1900 isn’t considered “historic” here (which is nice because it means I don’t have to abide by historical society rules in what I do with it). There’s even a wealthy man (an architect rather than a tech billionaire) who’s been behind a lot of the preservation of the town and restoring and repurposing some of the old buildings. I basically created my dream town before I actually found it in real life.

Right now, I’m finding myself drawn to secondary world fantasy, where none of it involves our world. I saw a joke on Facebook about how Mr. Rogers had it right: Come home, change into comfortable clothes, then escape to the Land of Make Believe. That’s where I am at the moment. I’m enjoying playing in this other world. The cozy fantasy subgenre is something I’ve always wanted. I love the parts of The Lord of the Rings that are just the characters hanging out in the Shire or in Rivendell. I wanted stories about just being in those places without any worry about fleeing from orcs or the Nazgul or the threat of the whole world getting sucked into darkness. I just want daily life in magical places.

I remember that when the series Westworld was first on TV, I found myself pondering what kind of high-tech, immersive amusement park I’d want to visit, and I came to the conclusion that I’d want a mild fantasy quest, basically an excuse for a journey through the world, with some purpose but without a lot of stakes. Of course, in that theme park of the world, there would be overnight stops set up to look like you’re camping in the woods, but that mossy stretch of ground would actually be a comfortable mattress, and there’d be a modern bathroom in that huge tree trunk. That’s also the kind of fictional experience I want–the low-stakes adventure in a magical world, not hidden modern conveniences.

With the Rydding Village books, it’s all about finding a place and building a community, and that’s definitely where I am now. I’ve also been working on a less-cozy romantasy that’s about leaving the familiar and going into the unknown, which is also my current state.

In other news, I got the house! Contract’s signed. The inspection is tomorrow. Now I’ll need to sell a lot of books to rebuild my savings and buy nice things for the new place.

Life

My New Home?

I’ve been pretty distracted the past few days, not by the big national stuff, but by a house.

My plan upon moving here was to rent an apartment for a year while I decided if I like it here, and then sometime after the holidays start house hunting to buy a new place. The weekend before last, I took my first step in preparing for that by going to an open house just to meet the Realtor. The plan was to do that several times and then pick a Realtor. But I really hit it off with this one, and last week she was already sending me listings based on what I said I was looking for. Friday morning, she sent me one that I couldn’t pass up. She arranged to show it to me on Sunday afternoon, and it was eerily close to perfect. There are a few things about it that I would prefer to be different, but it has other features I hadn’t considered.

It’s basically a Victorian dollhouse cottage, built in 1900, but the interior has been remodeled fairly recently. It still has the original wood floors, a lot of the woodwork, the stairs, and the interior doors, but it looks like they’ve pretty much gutted it and redone the wiring and plumbing and created new closets in the bedrooms. They took out the wall between the dining room and kitchen, so it’s a nice open space. It has a modern kitchen and bathrooms, plus central air and heat, which is rare in a house that old. It’s the best of both worlds, with modern functionality and vintage aesthetic. It’s in a neighborhood near downtown and near a small park. The neighborhood looks kind of like San Francisco, with rows of Victorian homes on steep hills. As a plus, the back deck and back upstairs windows have a view of mountains. And it was less expensive than I’d budgeted for.

A two-story Victorian cottage with a front porch and ornate wood trim. The siding is a light grayish green. A blue Subaru is parked in front.
Isn’t this cute? My car looks good parked in front of it.

It seems weird to buy the first house I’ve looked at, but I felt like I couldn’t pass it up, so I put in an offer. I’ve spent the last couple of days waiting to hear if they accepted it. My Realtor said today that we should have all the signatures tomorrow. Then we’ll schedule an inspection because I don’t want to buy a house that old without knowing what I’m getting into. I’m cautiously optimistic that it’s going to happen. I’d be closing in early December, so I may be able to move in by Christmas — or at least start moving in. Since I’m just moving across town and I have time on my lease, what I may do is see if I can have the furniture and major stuff moved so I can start living there, and then I can gradually move the other stuff over, putting it away exactly where I want it as I go. That’s a bit less overwhelming than having to have everything packed all at once and then having a stack of boxes to deal with.

But this means I may have to delay the release of Rydding Village book 3. I hope to have a draft done before I close on the house and start moving, but then life will be chaos for about a month before I have a chance to revise and edit it. Even if it falls through, either because someone swooped in and outbid me or they find something scary in the inspection, I’m not sure when I’d be ready to publish because I need to let it rest a bit before I can revise and edit. I’m making a more realistic publishing/work schedule for next year. It will help that I shouldn’t have any major moves popping in.

While the move happening a few months earlier than I planned is a bit stressful, in a way, it’ll be nice to have it over with. I’ve been living on the verge of maybe moving soon for nearly a decade. It was about eight or nine years ago that I first decided that I wanted a different house, but at first I was thinking it would be in my same neighborhood. I started living with the idea of moving, saving as much money as possible and not buying stuff I would have to move, living with things that were wearing out with the idea that I’d get rid of them when I moved and replace them in the new home. It was about five years ago that I started thinking of moving to a different part of the country, and about three years ago that I started researching this area. Then there was the actual move this year, and I’ve been living where I am now with the idea that it was temporary, so buying as little as possible, not really getting set up in an optimized way because what’s the point when I’d be moving again. I just put things away to get them out of the way. It’ll be nice to get somewhere where I can truly settle. I’ll have to get some furniture and I’ll gradually figure out how I’m going to decorate, but at least I’ll be home

Assuming it all comes through. I’ve decided I’d be okay if the deal falls apart, but I’ll be glad if it doesn’t. It’s rare to find an older home in this price range that’s already been updated. It’s not exactly what I’ve been imagining, not the neighborhood I’ve been researching, but it may actually be more convenient to downtown. I guess I just hadn’t considered it because I didn’t walk around there when I visited last year, but when a friend drove me around town to orient me, she took me through that neighborhood and said it would be a good place to look. Apparently, it’s where a lot of the artsy types live. The people across the street have pink and purple hair and are really nice (I met them when I was looking at the house and asked them questions about the neighborhood).

Now I’m going to try to focus on writing instead of doing online searches for rugs and sofas and furniture for the front porch.

Life

Glorious Fall

Fall was one of the reasons I moved across the country. Texas doesn’t really have fall as a season. They have occasional days from October through Christmas that feel somewhat fall-like. The peak color starts hitting maybe around Thanksgiving, so fall overlaps with the holiday season. I always delayed starting to acknowledge the holiday season because I was trying to enjoy fall. I once joked that autumn in Texas reminded me of the Ray Bradbury short story “All Summer in a Day,” except it was all autumn in a day. The first day the high temperatures dropped below 80 (usually in October), you went on a frenzy of doing all the fall stuff — get a pumpkin spice latte, hot cocoa, or hot cider. Make soup and bread. Go on a walk in the woods. You had to cram all of your fall stuff into that day because you never knew if that would be all you’d get. There might be another fall-like day later on, closer to Thanksgiving. Or we’d get a freak freeze at Halloween and we wouldn’t get any fall color.

Every year when the September and October issues of home and garden magazines came out, I’d read them and sigh over the idea of having fall as a whole season instead of the occasional day and having it come in September and October instead of just before Christmas.

Well, I found that here. We started getting the kind of weather I associate with fall in mid-August, and that was when we got our first hints of fall color. We’re getting our peak fall color now, as October is coming to an end, though there are still a lot of trees that haven’t completely turned, so it will probably last at least a couple more weeks. I’ve been able to do all the fall things without having to cram them into one day.

I’ve gone walking in the woods, driven through the mountains to look at leaves, visited an apple orchard and a farm stand. I finally got the apple cider donuts I’ve always wanted to try. I’ve spent time sitting on my porch, drinking warm drinks. The trees around my back yard are just starting to turn, so unless we get a drastic freeze or severe wind storm in the next week or so, I’ve got at least another week of peak fall before the transition to winter starts. And then I’m going to Texas for Thanksgiving, so I’ll hit peak fall there.

A white gazebo is surrounded by pumpkins in various shapes and colors, from traditional orange to white.
Ticking the farm stand off my fall list. I bought apples, but I know where to go for pumpkins.

The color around here has been spectacular. Here’s part of one of the city parks, and the trees were even brighter in person. They were practically neon.

A curving road is lined in bright red and gold trees. The ground below is blanketed in fallen red and gold leaves.
This color was even more astonishing in person. The photo didn’t capture the full glory.

The mountains were like a patchwork quilt. This is from the Blue Ridge Parkway, but the sun was at the wrong angle to really show the intensity of the color.

A view of mountains covered in red and gold trees with a bright blue sky overhead.
The sun was at the wrong angle to really show the color in a photo, but this view from the Blue Ridge Parkway was all gold, yellow, and red.

I’ve never seen such intense reds. Most of the “red” leaves I’ve seen before were more rust or burgundy, but they have scarlet leaves here.

A single tree with scarlet leaves stands against green trees.
Such bright red!

There’s also some lovely gold, like this tree in the churchyard at the old church downtown (there are tombstones in that churchyard from before the American Revolution).

A bright gold tree hangs over an ornate iron fence, showering the sidewalk with leaves. There's a bright orange tree next to it. In the background is an old church.
The churchyard at the old church has some of the best fall color downtown. It’s like walking down the yellow brick road.

I just need some time at a firepit or campfire to complete the autumn experience. That’s a plan for when I get a real house. But there were a lot of campfires at the Frontier Culture museum event I went to last weekend, so I got to look at leaves while getting a nice aroma of wood smoke.

While I’ve joked that I want to find the place that has fall-like weather year-round, I think that part of the appeal of fall for me is how ephemeral it is. It only lasts a relatively short time, and it’s constantly changing. The color is different every day, as is the amount of leaves. You have to enjoy it while you can, and you revel in the change. I wouldn’t mind the fall-like weather through much of the year, with cool nights and days just warm enough to be outside comfortably, but you need some warmer weather in the summer to truly appreciate that first hint of a chill and to know that the change is happening.

exploring

Off Again

It’s another adventure day. It’s supposed to be nearing peak color on the Blue Ridge Parkway and I want to miss the Saturday crowds, so I’m off to explore. I may find apple cider donuts, and I’m going to try to get some apples for making apple butter.

This morning, I went to a meeting at the local Shakespeare theater, which is the only reproduction of the Blackfriars Theatre, where Shakespeare’s company performed once he had sponsorship by the king. The Globe is more famous, but Blackfrairs was the fancy one, and for some reason they rebuilt it in this smallish town, so we have the American Shakespeare Center here. I met some interesting people and even exchanged contact info and got invited to some other events.

It was exactly this time last year when I first visited here to decide if I wanted to move, and I can’t believe I live here now. I think it really was a good move for me. I would like to meet more people, but that will take time. In the meantime, there’s so much to do and see.

Now I’m going to pack a picnic lunch and head off into the mountains.

Life, exploring

The Adventures Continue

Last weekend’s exploring adventure involved a bit of history, some socializing, and the continuing quest for apple cider donuts.

I started by going to the heritage day at the Mennonite Heritage Farm. That’s part of Eastern Mennonite University about 40 minutes north of me, and it’s a preserved/restored/rebuilt farm/settlement. For this event, they were demonstrating some aspects of farm life from the past. I took the back roads up there and saw some amazing scenery, as well as driving through some of the towns that get mentioned on the TV newscasts, so I managed to orient myself better around the area along the way.

When I got there, I was just in time for a shape singing lesson. I’ve sung a lot of pieces that had their origins in shape singing, but I hadn’t seen the actual shapes in use. I’ll have to research more to see how that works because I’m not sure of the point. The old hymn books we were using used both the shapes and a regular staff, so I never looked at the shapes. I just looked at where the shapes were on the staff. It’s possible that this publication was a hybrid and the true shape singing didn’t use a staff. Anyway, it was fun getting to sit in an old one-room schoolhouse/church to do this kind of singing.

They had some farm animals, as well as activities mostly for kids to do, like a two-person saw, a cider press, and tin punching. They also had some blacksmith demonstrations and they were making molasses and making popcorn in a big kettle. Then the buildings on the property (old farmhouses) had some craft displays, like showing the transition from raw flax to linen fabric.

Demonstration day at a historic farm. In the foreground, a man makes popcorn in a big, black kettle over an open fire. To the right is a big, red-brick farmhouse. In the background is a white dining pavilion tent. The sky is a bright, clear, blue.
A day at the farm.

They had a lunch on the grounds, with soup, homemade bread, homemade butter, and homemade apple butter, plus pies. They had long tables under a tent pavilion, with open seating. I ended up chatting with the people I was sitting near, swapping suggestions about places to visit in the area (they’ve been around here for a while, but I’ve gone to places they haven’t). And it turned out that they’re friends with my neighbor a couple of doors down, the one I met at the town visitors center when I first got here. I got to try some shoo-fly pie, which I’ve read about but have never had. Then I got to take a buggy ride. They had an Amish/Old Order Mennonite buggy and were giving rides. I walked up to take pictures and they said they had room for one person, but everyone waiting was a group, so I went for it. I got to sit next to the driver and chatted with him.

A white, wooden schoolhouse with a woman in an old-fashioned dress standing in front. In the foreground is an Amish-type black buggy pulled by a dark brown horse. There's a row of green trees behind the school, and the sky is bright blue.
Roger the horse took me on a buggy ride. In the background is the old schoolhouse where they taught shape singing.

After that, I headed up into the mountain foothills toward an apple orchard that supposedly sells cider donuts, along with cider, and there’s a brewery for hard cider, with a tasting room with fabulous views. Well, it turns out that everyone else thought it would be a great day to pick and buy apples and have cider, plus they were having a wedding there. I could smell the donuts. I saw people eating them, but I never found where you bought them. There were some really long lines around the place, so one of them may have been that line. It was too crowded for me, so I bailed. At least it was a really pretty drive.

On the way home, I stopped at a heritage market that I’ve seen advertised on TV. They advertised baked goods, produce, and other stuff, so I thought maybe they’d have donuts (and probably a restroom). It turned out to be more of a mall, and they had a really good kitchenware shop where I found a pastry cloth and rolling pin cover that I’ve been looking for and unable to find. No donuts, alas, though. When I get a permanent house and am ready to decorate, this place would be good to go back to because they had a lot of handcrafted items, plus that kitchenware shop (so many gadgets!).

I have leads on a couple of other possible orchards that advertise cider donuts, and I think I’ll go on Friday this week, when it may not be as crowded. On the weekend, there’s an event at the Frontier Culture museum, plus there’s a festival at the park near me, which means it would be a good time to walk or drive around the neighborhoods I’m targeting for buying a house to see how far I can hear the music from the festival. It’s not too bad where I am, though there are times when it’s less pleasant to sit on my porch, so I want to see where the music is louder.

It was around this time last year that I came here to visit and see if I wanted to move here. I really did pick the best time to visit because autumn here is absolutely glorious.

A hillside covered with red and gold trees.
Fall colors at the park near my house.
Life, exploring

Over the Mountain

Last Friday’s adventure involved a lot of driving in the mountains. I need to get a topographical map because the road map doesn’t tell the full story or adequately prepare me for the road I’ll be driving on. I think the map might even straighten the roads a bit instead of showing every twist and turn. I’ve learned that if an otherwise straight road on the map has a section that suddenly shows a lot of zigzags, that’s a sign that the road is going through mountains, and those zigzags are switchbacks and hairpin turns. I’ve been reading about going through mountain passes all my life but it turns out my impression of what that meant has been inaccurate. I’ve pictured a cleft between mountains, a simple up and over in a relatively low spot. But that turns out to be an inaccurate impression because that relatively low spot is still up pretty high, so you have to climb to get to it, and that often means going along the side of a mountain with a lot of switchbacks.

So, I set out heading west on what amounts to the major east-west road around here. I don’t know how old this road is, but there’s a coaching inn on it that dates to 1812. That’s before you get to the mountains, but there’s nothing much past it until you get through the mountains, and the town past the mountains was pretty old, so I think the road through the mountains may be that old. It was definitely built before they did things like dynamite mountains to put roads through. It was actually kind of a fun drive, if sometimes a bit harrowing. I was very glad I was driving my Subaru, which has all-wheel drive and is built for that sort of thing. While twists and turns were kind of fun with the stick shift in my old car, this might have been a bit much for that car to handle.

At the top of a mountain, there was a scenic overlook at a Civil War battlefield, where the Confederate army dug in to defend the pass (which suggests the road through the mountains may date back at least that far). They’ve preserved one of the trenches, but you can also see where there are terraces dug into the side of the mountain. There’s a short hiking trail with signs along the way containing excerpts from letters sent by a soldier who was there, talking about his experiences. On a sunny autumn day, it was chilly up there, so I can’t imagine spending part of a winter there (they got snow around there early this morning). It did make for a glorious vantage point for viewing the valley and more mountains beyond it. The mountains here are in waves of ranges with valleys of varying size in between, so it’s a bit of harrowing mountain driving, then flat valley, then more mountains, then flat driving, etc.

Rows of gentle mountains, covered in a patchwork of green, gold, and red trees. There are pine trees in the foreground and there's a bright blue sky above.
Rows and rows of mountains, with a little valley between each row and some interesting driving along the way. This is looking west, so probably West Virginia in the distance.

After a couple more harrowing mountain passes, I reached a valley with a little town that’s close to the West Virginia border (if I’d known how close it was, I might have driven on a bit just to add another state to my list). They were having their fall festival. I walked around a bit and got some tourist information. This area is a big producer of maple syrup, and they have a syrup festival in the early spring that I’ll have to go to. In this area, the trees were all red and gold, and it was beautiful, but I didn’t manage to get a good photo because the angle of the sun was wrong.

Elements of the festival were scattered around the area, and I headed off the main road to get to where they were supposed to be doing more stuff, but that road turned out to be a tiny byway that really twisted around the mountains. The place I was heading seemed to appear out of nowhere around a bend, right at a time when I had two trucks behind me, so I couldn’t stop abruptly or turn back. It’s a place that’s part of the syrup festival, so now I know what to look for when I go back. I ended up making a loop and going what the locals call “over the mountain” at a different pass, one my friend calls “the one that’s not scary,” and now I know what she means. It’s a bit more straightforward up and over drive.

A view from a mountain pass, with lower mountains and the start of fall color in front and the blue ridge of the Blue Ridge Mountains in back, with a bright blue sky overhead.
Looking east from the “not scary” pass, the leaves are just starting to turn, and you can see how the Blue Ridge Mountains got their name. That’s the blue ridge in the background.

In all, I saw some beautiful fall color and found several places I’ve read about that now I know how to get back to for more in-depth exploration. A lot of the driving was through forests, in places where the trees arch over the road and form a tunnel. That’s one of my favorite things, to drive or walk through a tunnel of trees. I opened my sunroof so I could see the trees over my head.

This weekend’s adventure is going to involve an open house day at the Mennonite Heritage Farm. I hope to learn some stuff I can use in my books. I may also visit an apple orchard that’s nearby as I continue my quest for apple cider donuts.