I’ve been a driving fool the past week, making a 900-mile round trip just to attend a women writers’ retreat at the northwest end of Virginia. From Huntsville to Knoxville and the very nice TVA campground at Melton Hill Dam…
…to a pull-through site at Hungry Mother State Park, where I had my visit last fall cut short by Hurricane Florence…
…to a crazy busy privately-owned RV park that was hosting some kind of extended family gathering for the weekend. Let’s just say their gathering and our retreat were about 180 degrees of difference!
I thoroughly enjoyed the weekend spent in a small meeting room with 15-20 other women, all of them intelligent, funny, and wonderful. And my head was so full of ideas and ambitions when I left that I think this week is all about figuring what to do with those ideas and energies. And there’s no better place to do that than here…
The connectivity at this campground isn’t the best, though, so today I am hunkered down at a table inside the local McDonalds. In exchange for a small breakfast purchase, I can have wifi for a few hours, which I’m using to post this, try to score tickets for something this summer, and avoid funeral homes.
What’s that, you say? A funeral home? Well, it’s like this… I was looking for a quiet spot to have a 30 minute phone call and so I drove around town till I found this spot. Big, quiet, worked well. Until about 20 minutes into the call, when suddenly cars started parking around me, and then people emerged from those cars wearing Sunday best, mostly black. More than a few gave me a sideways glance. Finished with my business, I turned on the engine and slid out the side exit where there was a small, inconspicuous sign for the funeral home. Well, it *was* a quiet spot!
Before I could drive into town this morning, I had to scrape ice of my windshield. I sincerely hope this is the last time I have to do THAT kind of thing this Spring. The frost on the grass and fog rising off the river did make for a lovely drive, though.
One last photo today, mostly for my brother. On the way to Watauga, I got a bit lost jumping highways and ended up driving right by Bristol Motor Speedway, the scen of last August’s big NASCAR adventure. Good times, bro, good times.
If I see anything vital around me, it is precisely that spirit of adventure, which seems indestructible and is akin to curiosity.