Successful Sunday, As Remembered After Sleeping on It

Sunday off is a big deal. Sunday off without having to babysit or mow or run high and low is an even bigger deal. Sunday is the day of rest, so rest I did.

At tenish AM I was startled awake by a text message. I was to be at the vineyards at noonish. I am all about that but I'm in hibernation right now, sleep is good and I somehow can't get enough. But up and showered and in yesterday's clothes (don't tell!) I was vineyard bound where wine was consumed and cheese sweat itself into a frenzy and berries were had by all.

At one point the wedding was called off so I hurriedly sent a mass text to the eligible bachelors in my contacts list with only one reply and that was in the negative, thank God for small miracles I suppose because nine and three quarters seconds after the message(s) was sent the wedding was back on. Some photos and a second vineyard were in order and then best of all Frisbee Golf, oh, excuse me, Disk Golf.

At the park, mostly inappropriately dressed, we hunted for the beginning of the course, and settle with the end. The cheese wasn't the only thing the heat forced to sweat so when we missed "holes" on our course no one was terribly upset.

I got to impress the city folk about my plant and animal knowledge and scamper through knee high grass as if I was born to live like that. I am sad to report that I refrained from stripping to the skivvies and jumping in the pond but if you had seen it you would have understood. We ate mulberries off of trees and sucked the sweet nectar of the wild honeysuckle.

Hair mussed and feet blacked with dirt and the death whispers of summer grass, we introduced our foreign friend to the wonders of a Slurpee. She didn't go all out, it was a conservative Coke to start out but I'm sure she'll be mixing a masterful Slurpee soon enough.

The question of the ingrown hair is still out there... suggestions?

Stateriotism

My sister is a stateriot (think patriot). She even has pictures of the state flag on her return address labels.

Robert Duvall is also a stateriot. He told Esquire that VA was the the next best thing to heaven. He used to live in the same town as me. Heaven? Maybe not but his current farm appears to be pretty awesome.

This term "stateriot" came to me today when I saw the address label (also why does my 21 year-old sister have return address labels?). I feel as if a real word for the love of one's state should exist. I am consulting Google as I speak...fruitless.

My attempts were feeble but if you Google stateriotism you'll get results. Also if you know what the real word for loving your state is let me know.

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow

I keep hearing rumors that the snow is piling up everywhere but other than the TV (and we all know everything we see on TV is fake) I hadn't seen any hard evidence... until this morning. It's snowing here finally! But don't get too excited it'll send soon enough and the grass isn't even covered yet. The roads are an extreme hazard despite the lack of depth.

Here in VA we like to freak at the first flake but the reality is the roads are mostly untreated, so frozen, and will remain uncleared for a while. I will have to call work tomorrow to inform them that I'm running late because after I drive eight miles out of ruralaliy (not a real word) the first town I hit is going to be snow covered with not-particularly-smart people driving their fancy sports cars (all of which a lining the edge of the roads that have already been cleared, its hard to drive up hill you know) like the road is dry. I'll get stuck in accident traffic and become a bit frustrated with my fellow man. Also it will be busy as all get out with people who couldn't drive to work because of the torturous conditions but can make it to the outlet mall.