But for you who revere my name,
the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings.
And you will go out and leap like calves released from the stall. ~ Malachi 4:2
Ballads and a recipe for happy homemaking
It’s Friday. Yeeeeeehaaaawww!
Nothing exciting today … just cleaning and laundry and oh, I made THIS. You should make some, too. It’s delicious and warm and filling and satisfying and crave-a-licious.
And while you’re stirrin’ and stirrin’ and stirrin’ waiting for the plot pot to thicken, here are a few toe-tappin’ ditties to help you pass the time. Enjoy!
Mountain dew
On Sunday we left Ohio and headed 750 miles south, to Georgia.
We traveled through West Virginia, the land of silver and crystal and cracking branches heavy with ice. Lucky for us the roadways were perfectly dry and clear.
We supposed this heavy cloud was responsible for the ice and frost in the higher elevations. It seemed to fall on us in dark, wet fog when we entered a tunnel through the mountain. When we came out on the other side it was gone, with nothing but clear skies ahead.
Virginia’s landscape appeals to me. Following I-77 we traveled past rolling pastures and rocky outcroppings, lots of black cattle and mountains in the distance. There was one place, situated at the base of a mountain, that I wish I’d been able to photograph. It appeared to have been a grand old home, surrounded by outbuildings and crumbling stone walls. It was abandoned except for the cattle grazing all around it. It reminded me of a scene from the movie Cold Mountain.
West Virginia’s winding roads make for interesting travel. It’s easy to feel in charge when you’re driving on flat land. Here, you realize how small and insignificant you are, tucked away on a ribbon of road between mountains (or hills, depending on which area of the country you come from!).
My mom drove on this leg of our trip. I was too distracted by the scenery to pay attention to the road. She drove to just north of Charlotte, then turned the wheel over to me for the stretch of country between there and Atlanta. Thus, no photos south of Charlotte, no depictions of the fast lane on I-285 around Atlanta. I was too busy white-knuckling the steering wheel to grab the camera, anyway.
I don’t even know where we were when I glanced at this valley far below I-77.
I think it was near the Blue Ridge Parkway exit. Some day we’ll go back and take that scenic drive.
But for now, it’s good to be home … even if we went from beginning to bloom crab-apple trees in Georgia to freezing rain this morning, in Ohio. To be honest, I’m not quite ready for the busy season of spring. I’d like to bundle up in the belly of winter — although it’s been a mild one — for just a bit longer.
