Yesterday, I suggested that the holiday season is a wonderful time to renew connections. Today, Glenda and I made a spontaneous decision to visit Charlottesville for a little Christmas shopping. The real reason for the trip is the annual effort to determine what Glenda would like for Christmas. The second reason was a visit to Bodo's Bagels so we could bring back a few for our neighbors who are moving back to Oklahoma.
Driving up Interstate 81 was real challenge. Traffic stopped twice. One stoppage was for twenty minutes in the Lexington area. The second halt happened just south of Staunton. We got off the road and headed over to Route 11 and then up Route 340 which took us to Waynesboro where we picked up Interstate 64 to finish our trip.
Ten minutes after getting to Charlottesville, I remembered the reason I could never live there. The traffic is just painful. For a city it's size the traffic moves at a pace that seems glacial. We even had trouble finding a parking spot in the small shopping center I wanted to visit. I only wanted to go to two stores. The first was Plow & Hearth. We spent about twenty minutes in the store, and I paid for our items.
Just as I was about to leave, the lady packing my bag turned, looked at me, and said I know you.
My brain clicked and I said, "Deb." She ran around the counter and hugged Glenda. We spent the next twenty minutes hearing how Deborah, whose pet goat Sophie we once transported from Nova Scotia to New Brunswick in the back of our Toyota Land Cruiser, ended up living in the Charlottesville area.
She actually moved to Virginia one year before we did. What are the chances that three people who once lived in Tay Creek, New Brunswick in the eighties would meet again in a Plow and Hearth in Charlottesville, Virginia of all places. I probably haven't been to Charlottesville in six years, though I was there regularly in the early nineties.
Life is really strange sometimes. Glenda was a little unethusiastic about the trip when we left this morning, but seeing Deborah again made it all worthwhile for her.
On the way back we ate in one of Lexington's great traditions, the Southern Inn. Though Deb had changed very little, the Sourthern Inn has gone upscale. I prefered the food and the ambience of the old Southern Inn. We had a great waiter and the food was fine but not spectacular. I really missed the mounted whitetail deer with Christmas lights strung through his antlers. As I remember this was a regular fixture in the nineties. The last meal I had in the old days was a classic club sandwich, and it was certainly that though I never could figure out what a slice of American cheese was doing on it.
For a few more snaps from today, visit this dot Mac homepage.
