Warning: The following post may cause a blood sugar spike or gut-wrenching nausea for some readers. For this we, in Linguiniland, apologize. We will return to our usual snide commentary and annoying whining at a later date. So spare the the e-mail complaints; you know who you are...
As I was
fleeing leaving West Virginia to come back to live in Virginia, the finale of the
William Tell Overture by Rossini was playing on NPR. Most people know this as the theme song for the
old Lone Ranger TV show.
I thought it appropriate.
Someday I may write a blog post on the past 18 months. But I am still mulling over a lot of the issues. I don't want to bash an entire state based on a bad experience in one little corner. And we met some very nice people there who more than made up for others' duplicity. So we'll leave the West Virginia Experience for another day, perhaps never. Best not to give energy to the negative.
We find ourselves in historic downtown Madison, Va., which happens to be -- to quote
Oh Brother Where Art Thou -- a geographical oddity: 20 minutes from everywhere. We're 20 minutes from Culpeper, 20 minutes from Charlottesville, and 20 minutes from Orange.
The first time we walked into this house, Dirtman and I knew it was right for us -- even more so than the house we had agreed to take that was given to another family. I have been sufficiently chastised by my lack of faith (Sufficiently and continually, I should say. This whole journey has been a consistent issue of faith).
Our furniture fits exactly; the bedroom curtains look like they were custom-made. The kitchen is large enough for me to play in, but small enough for me to be able to reach things. There is a closet big enough for Zsa Zsa to sleep in (it's become her "thing" lately). It's within walking distance of antique shops, a quilt supply shop and the best BBQ joint in Virginia (we used to eat there back when Chuck had soils work in this area). From here we can get to the farm without having to drive through any major towns or traffic. Our water doesn't stink and the showers work.
And did I mention a dishwasher? Oh yes. In fact, right now, as I'm sitting here typing this,
I'm doing the dishes. There is no tower of glasses and cups next to the sink (because, you know, the world would blow up if you drank water out of the same glass twice...).
I am within walking distance
of the library!
Our neighbors seem nice and one even brought us a pie, which showed enormous empathy because, if there is one thing you need after moving and unpacking all day, it's pie! (And she has a dog too, so she gets extra points.)
We are well aware, though, that some of our enthusiasm may be because we've been in a cycle of misery for so long that normalcy calls for a celebration. It's like we've been hitting ourselves over the head with a hammer and it just feels good now because we've stopped.
Okay, maybe not...
All I know is that we feel more at home here than we have since The House That Shall Not Be Named, in spite of the boxes all over the place and the fact that, in my search for a job I have to answer stupid questions like: If you saw a fellow associate stealing, would you: a) grab some for yourself; b) shoot associate in the head with the unlicensed gun you brought with you to work; c) offer to drive associate home in a car you steal from your supervisor; or d) none of the above.
And...Wait! There's more!
As if we weren't happy enough, Heir 2 got a job at AOL! You know what that means? That means he gets to play ping pong at some point during his employment (Heir 2 said AOL was very proud of the fact that they have a ping pong table...everyone he spoke with mentioned the ping pong table; it was the one constant in all his interviews). AND...he got an apartment -- on the ground floor, so those who are helping him move (John Boy is not among them because we got him first) are grateful.
Can you
stand all this happiness? (This is where, normally, I would insert some deflating comment about an on-coming freight train BUT I WON'T! Hah!) I've learned my lesson and will anticipate only floods and floods of blessings; Blessings!
Because right now I have an entire set of clean dishes, yet my fingers aren't pruney from the dishwater; I have an invitation to have a beer at a friend's house where I can take Zsa Zsa with me; and I checked out a book on birding after a leisurely stroll to the library with Zsa Zsa (who waited obediently outside in a very, very, very, very
rare down-stay -- so, see...miracles DO happen!).
Editorial staff thanks you for your indulgence. We will now return to our regularly scheduled griping.
