Come Saturday Morning

It's been so long since we've taken a serious Linguini Road Trip. I'm convinced these are essential for my sanity and overall outlook on life.

DG and his Harley

Our numbers have dwindled, what with DG and his Harley and John Boy touring former Eastern Block countries; but we still maintain the usual Linguini Road Trip traditions. For instance, we still stop at every stinkin' road marker, no matter how obscure or far off the main road it may be. This leads to another Linguini tradition: the photo of Dirtman reading road markers.

Not a Red Bud

Today's trip was to the Red Bud Festival in Dayton, Va., and we did actually attend the event...albeit with a few several side trips.

One of those side trips was actually planned. We like to visit other cafes and coffee houses to get ideas and chat with their owners. So our first stop was at the Lost River General Store for French pressed coffee with a shot of hazelnut. The store is owned by Inn at Lost River innkeepers Toni and Ted, who were gracious enough to share their experience and give us a tour of the Inn.

Needless to say, the inn is lovely and the grounds are beautiful...and they have a dog. The general store is filled with works by local artisans and local products...and they have a dog.

Onto Dayton which, as longtime Linguini reader know, was just a clever ruse to cover the fact that we just needed a road trip. So it really didn't matter what was in Dayton or even whether Dayton even existed. Whatever we discovered there was gravy.

Your basic craft fair

I wish I could have captured in this photo the size of these draft horses, not to mention the bling of their glittering tack!

 Did I mention I love woody cars? It's just a thing...

Dayton also contains the best bookstore ever -- all old books (some antiques), the kind with inscriptions, and containing that wonderful old book smell. It reminded me of the old Paper Treasures that used to be in New Market, Va., though not a huge. But everything was nicely categorized and the fiction section was chock full of old, old, old books. These are not for hardcore collectors; hardly a dust jacket to be found and a lot of sprung bindings. If you love to read old, old, old books, they've got plenty. Of course, I had to limit myself.

Then onto....

...another road marker...

...and another road marker...

...sigh.

What we do is never so important as getting out together. Which is why the song that is the title of this post kept running through my head all day.

...and coming home wasn't so bad either...

I call these my Happy Sappy books -- non threatening; a sort of literary petit four.