Okay, I know Halloween is over, and I’m totally ready to move on. I’m already thinking about Thanksgiving dinner, and wondering how soon is too soon to put up Christmas decorations. (This weekend’s probably too soon, right?) But first, I just had to share this:
Graham and I have spent thirteen (THIRTEEN!) Halloweens together, and this is the first year we’ve ever carved a pumpkin together. Why? I have no idea why. It just wasn’t something we ever got around to.
I think it’s safe to say we’ll make it a tradition from now on.
…will be posted on Halloween. Sunday isn’t a normal posting day for me, I know, but here’s the thing – the weather today is dark and cloudy, rainy and windy, and pretty much perfect for writing a creepy story. So, I’m taking advantage, and time, and really sinking into this one. I can’t wait to see what it looks like once it’s done.
In the meantime, as a preview, here are the first couple of paragraphs:
We’ll never know who did it. Who cast the spell and brought the fog. It rolled in before dawn, gray and viscous, a blanket of cool and damp. It slithered over the grass and in the trees, and curled itself into every little nook, cranny, and corner.
Life was quiet on the mountain. That’s why we came. That’s why we built our homes and planted our gardens and settled here. High above the rest of the world, away from the noise and the hurry, we could live in peace, with no one but birds and bears and deer to judge us, and nothing but trees and stars and each other for company. This we wanted – this easy, quiet, slow turning of the days, this peaceful time together, this chance to build something better than we’d had before. We were all grateful for this place…
Are you intrigued? I hope so! And I hope you’ll pop by on Sunday and give it a read.
I wrote about it last year because I’d been reading a book of ghost stories my friend gave me , and I connected some dots and came to conclusion that the house in a story I’d read that day was very likely the same house.
Can I be certain? Well, no, but I’d like to think I’m right, because it’s a pretty cool connection. See, this house is just a few minutes away on the outskirts of our village, and Graham and I drive by it frequently. Of all the gin joints, right?
I’ve always been a fan of both ghost stories and old houses. I love walking into a space knowing that it has a history, that others have come and gone and loved it and built their lives there before me. And honestly, I think it’s just a fundamentally, very human thing to love ghost stories. Something in our primal makeup, in our DNA and our bones and the very oldest part of our brains tells us to be afraid of things that go bump in the night, and to ponder what happens to us when we die. I grew up in a town full of ghosts and legends, and I live in an area rife with them now, too. And this house is just one small piece of that larger puzzle.
Or, it was. Which is to say, it still is, but for how long is anyone’s guess. It was a ruin last year. It’s in worse shape now.
Graham stopped by yesterday and snapped this picture. Sad, isn’t it? Soon enough, the house will be gone, and the stories will be all that’s left. Then one day, they’ll be forgotten, too. But for now, the house is still here, crumbling away on the roadside, taking its secrets with it.
P.S. As I did last year, I’ll add this disclaimer: This house is on private property, and there are no trespassing signs posted, so please don’t go poking around where you’re not welcome. It’s easy enough to take a picture from the road.
Okay, so, today…got away from me. I feel like the first day back after time off (even, it seems, a short staycation) is often chaotic. And, well, I should have been prepared, but I wasn’t. So, just a quick post today. But come back on Friday for a post all about one of our staycation adventures! And enjoy this photo of some beautiful Virginia scenery as a preview. 😉
We need a break, y’all. Our summer was pretty packed, and fall is shaping up to be a lot more busy than we thought, too. So, Graham and I are taking the opportunity now to step away, get some rest, and have a little staycation. I’ll be back next Wednesday, but for now, I wish each of you a lovely weekend, and a good start to next week.
So make sure to stop by and give it a read! I was aiming to have it done this afternoon, but my sweet Old Man Gatsby is sick today.
We’re trying to take good care of him, so I’m a little behind. But, life happens, and tomorrow’s only a day away. And hopefully Gatsby will feel better by then, too.
September is the month of gold – the leaves, the light, the hours. And there’s nothing quite like a September night, when the magic of the harvest moon makes lovers and poets of both the young and the old.
I always feel a little melancholy seeing September come to an end. And yes, I know we’re not quite there yet. I’m thoroughly enjoying the slant of the light, the slightly cooler temperatures, the way the leaves have just started to turn… I love it all. And I just had to share this moment.
This is the sunset today, on the (small) mountain behind my house. I can’t get enough of it. And I know that soon enough, it will be dark at this time of day. But with the winter comes the stars, so I’m not complaining. I always have loved winter best. But for now, I’m soaking up this special September magic.
It’s been raining on and off today, and it’s nice and cool outside, and the sky is pink and purple, and the trees are starting to turn gold, and I just really think September in Virginia might be one of my very favorite things in the entire world.
Y’all, Graham and I have forgotten our wedding anniversary no less than four times in as many weeks. We keep reminding each other. It’s tomorrow, by the way, and we’ll have been married for eight years.
So why do we keep forgetting? Life. That’s all I got. Life’s just been busy, and we’ve had a lot going on, and it’s been really hard to focus on making plans with just each other. And I don’t think this is an uncommon thing for couples. I think it’s easy to get caught up in the outside world.
But at the end of the day, we only have eyes for each other.
So, this week, I’m planning to make some time (forcibly, if I have to) for just Graham and me. Maybe we’ll even go on a date! (I can’t remember the last time we actually went on an actual date…) But no matter what we do, if it’s the two of us together, it’ll be special and lovely and fun, and we’ll probably laugh a lot.
So, to my Graham, my guiding star and my favorite human: I love you. I choose you. I’d marry you all over again. Thanks for choosing me, too.
…for a whirlwind couple of days, to attend the wedding of a dear friend. A couple of thoughts here:
Thought the first: Every time I’ve come to New Jersey (which, granted, is only twice), I’ve been so pleasantly surprised at how nice and pretty it actually is. New Jersey, like Florida, or for that matter, the Appalachian Mountains of southwest Virginia where I grew up, is often the butt of mean jokes about bad hair and rude, unintelligent people. I’m sure those things exist – they exist everywhere – but my experience here in the Garden State has been nothing but lovely. And, having dealt with them as a mountain girl from down the holler, I’m pretty much totally and completely over ugly, unfair stereotypes.
Thought the second: I’m so happy for my friend and his bride to be. It’s wonderful to be able to celebrate with them, and to share their special weekend. I feel very fortunate, and I know that not everyone has the opportunity to see their loved ones and be together right now. This last year and change has been such a trying, awful, scary time, and COVID doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I don’t really know what else to say. I just feel lucky, and grateful. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m doing my best to treasure these happy moments, knowing that everything could change in an instant, and has, for many people all over the world.
So, that’s what I’ve got for today. I try not to ramble in my posts, but my mind is just feeling too many feelings this morning. And I’ve only had one cup of coffee, which is apparently not quite enough. I’ll leave you here, then, with a wish for you that your weekend is fabulous, that your coffee is hot and made just the way you like it, and that you are happy and well.
A Virginia Writer's Diary 