Aside from my current dilema, what to wear to a wedding in a field, my worries seem to pass with ease these days. I am enjoying just being. Here, on top of a little big hill in the Shenandoah Valley, I’ve been able to do a lot of thinking about myself in a perspective that I never have before.

There is a huge part of me that has always required regimented schedules and peculiar particularities. I run like a well-oiled machine, a IH tractor, let’s say for my own sake. I’ve fallen into a routine here, on a daily basis, but also on a weekly basis. For example, on Sundays I go to Weasie’s Kitchen at nine-thirty, sit at the booth near the register, and am called “Baby” by my regular waitress. Not only do I love a woman who calls me “Baby”, but she knows exactly what I order every Sunday: coffee (black), water (no ice), two blueberry pancakes, two sausage patties, and the blueberry syrup (from Smuckers if y’all want to try it). I’m going to miss this part of my routine when I go back to Asheville, but I already have ideas for a new routine, which make the move that much less stressful.

Almost through with my time up here, this experience has really ‘changed’ me in a way of thinking. I’ve probably aged about ten years in this past month, but sure don’t look it! Thank heavens. I am grateful, with no exceptions for this past month. I suppose I wish my father was still around, but nonetheless we hardheaded Irishmen are steadfast in our own ways it seems.

So here’s to a learning experience. And…here’s to me going to cook another bangin’ supper for my mother and me.

I’d like to reflect a little more, perhaps tomorrow.