In the Shade

We have trees and small wooded areas near our own home, but nothing like this cabin in the West Virginia woods; even at the sunniest of times, that golden light filters through millions of leaves at their greenest peak, casting a viridescent shade over everything. Without the many picture windows this lovely house in the woods features, it would be dark indeed within its wood-sided walls.

And this morning the smell of smoke threaded the chilly gray-lit skies when we woke up. Those Canadian wildfires had caught up with us again. I am no sun-worshipper; summer is not my favorite season, but this year June has been so cool and smoky and rainy that, as the month ends, I am missing the light.

Vacation On

I had a doctor’s appointment at home today, and rather than go through the extreme headache of rescheduling my annual wellness check, I decided to drive the 2 hours back from the cabin this morning. At 7:30 the roads were mostly clear and the drive in was scenic and uneventful. 

After my appointment, I ran a few errands around town, including heading over to Bill and Emily’s for a wellness check on their cat, Spreidel. I did not, however, venture the 2 miles south that would have taken me to our house, although it was tempting. Somehow, being on vacation and coming back to town was strange enough without actually going home, no matter how short a visit it might have been. 

After a stop at the grocery store to get a few things we hadn’t been able to find in the stores near our rental property, I headed northwest and back to my vacation. 

“Yay! You’re home!” cheered Heidi when I finally rolled into the dusty driveway. 

I cocked my head and gave the statement some thought. “Well,” I said, “I was almost home, but now I’m…” I paused and laughed.

“Now you’re here,” Heidi said. “Yay!”

On the Trail to Adventure

We decided to spend the last part of the afternoon exploring our nearby section of the Washington Heritage Trail, the 136-mile scenic route along the Potomac that traces George Washington's activities and interests during his time in this part of the country. 

Our journey today took us first to the Panorama Overlook, a view rated by National Geographic as "one of the five best in the east". From our vantage point, we could see both the Potomac and Cacopan Rivers and mountain ridges in three states. 

From there we drove north to the village of Great Cacapon, a place Washington surveyed and also where he owned some choice riverfront property. It is a tiny town now, though, and finding nowhere of interest to stop, we continued along our way to the town of Pawpaw on a route described as "among the most scenic in the state". 

The weather was growing evermore threatening as we drove to that hamlet, population 410, and we were disappointed to find the visitors center firmly shuttered. We knew, however, that just beyond the town and across the Maryland state line lay one of the greatest engineering marvels of the 19th century, the Pawpaw Tunnel on the C&O Canal. 

"There is a huge thunderstorm pretty much directly over us," Victor warned as we pulled into the parking lot, looking at the weather app on his phone, but undeterred, we grabbed umbrellas and headed the .17 miles down the trail to find the tunnel. A smattering of fat drops were falling and there were rumbles of thunder rolling towards us as we first walked and then jogged toward the 3,000-foot tunnel.

The tunnel was built to allow the canal to bypass a notoriously snaky section of the river. It took 14 years, thousands of men, hundreds of thousands of dollars, and over 6,000,000 bricks to bore straight through the ridge and construct the tunnel. Although the canal continued to transport goods until 1924, by the time the tunnel was complete, the railroad that would eventually replace the barges had already arrived in the area.

Today the tunnel is used by hikers and bikers on the canal, and today it offered us shelter from the torrential rain that started just as we arrived. We made our way carefully into the dark, our voices echoing off the vaulted ceiling. The light from the other end was deceptive, so much farther away than it looked. The towpath was bumpy and pitted, and we weren't very far inside before we needed the flashlights from our phones to light the way. The original railing was sturdy, though, and leaning over we could see a trickle of water covering the granite bottom 12 feet below. A strong breeze from the other end blew toward us as we fell into a rhythm of walking in the dark. 

To me, it was trance-like and magical; my eyes relaxed and my feet found their way along the rutted path. We reached a point where we could no longer tell what the weather was like outside, but in hushed voices we discussed whether and how quickly the water level was rising in the canal. Emily and Heidi and I were perhaps a hundred yards behind Bill, Treat, Nadika, and Victor, and we decided to turn back about three-quarters of the way through. 

Like so often happens, finding our way out seemed a lot quicker than finding our way in, and soon we stood outside the tunnel beneath puffy clouds and blue skies. The storm had passed, and it was time to head back to the cabin.

Initial

Although the crumbling tennis courts we found this morning were not exactly the amenities we expected based on the description of our vacation rental, it was nothing we couldn't handle with a tape measure, some duct tape, a chalk line, and the extra bottle of chalk. Within 20 minutes we had a pickleball court marked out and we spent a couple hours alternating between singles and doubles matches with some serving and volleying practice on the adjoining court. 

A quick stop at the drug store before dinner for a couple more rolls of duct tape was insurance against the torrential afternoon rain and any damage it probably did to our chalk lines. Once we get the courts marked off tomorrow morning? It will be all pickleball, all week. 

You're welcome, Coolfont.

What Are the Chances?

Nearly 40 years ago my brother and sister and I purchased a Danish modern rocking chair with a woven back and seat. Our father had just moved back to the States from Saudi Arabia to set up residence in Virginia Beach and continue his fight against Stage IV colon cancer, and we were in charge of furnishing the three bedroom ocean view apartment where we would be living. Our 20 something tastes took us to Conrans in Georgetown where we found a couch and an arm chair in their scratch and dent section, along with the rocker, some blond-wood end tables and matching coffee table on the showroom floor.

All of that furniture stayed with one or the other of us for many years after my dad died: the coffee table was painted periwinkle; the couch was reupholstered twice; and the chair moved to California and back with my sister. So when the rocking chair got torn to pieces by our cats, I couldn’t part with it, as unsightly as it was. 

Somewhere along the line, I took the chair apart and brought it to school, storing it in my closet. I’m sure my plan was to have it fixed and put it in my classroom, but it’s been in storage for at least 25 years. And I’m not sure what made me decide that this was the summer when I would finally have it restored, but on the last day of school I pulled the rocker from the closet and carried it out to the car. 

In the days following, I made several calls and sent even more emails and texts with pictures of the shredded roping, in an attempt to get an estimate for repair. All the replies were the same, though: nobody I contacted did weaving. During my research I came across some similar chairs that were selling for between six and twenty-two hundred dollars. I also found some DIY videos that made reweaving a chair seat look relatively easy.

I made up my mind and ordered the Danish cord I would need for the job from a specialty supply store. The job seemed both straightforward and complicated, and I thought that more eyes and hands would help, so I came up with the idea to bring the project along on our upcoming vacation. Then I would have not only me and Heidi to figure things out, but also Bill, Emily, Victor, and Treat. Surely with the six of us on the task we could resolve any unforeseen complications and make quick work of it, too. Plus it seemed like it might be fun to learn to weave and restore a piece of family history.

This afternoon I arrived at the cabin in WV where we will spend the next week eager to present my project proposal to the group. I was talking it up as we carried all of our luggage and supplies into the spacious house, pointing out how satisfying a way it might be to spend a rainy day. A little while later, when I was on the lower level where Heidi and I have our room, I walked over to explore the small sitting room that is down here. 

“No. Way!” I whispered to myself, for there was the very rocking chair that I sought to restore.

Garden to Table

We were fortunate enough to do the tasting menu at the Dabney restaurant in Blagden Alley last night. One of DC's handful of Michelin-star restaurants, the place is known for its wood-burning cooking hearth and its tasting menu featuring mid-Atlantic cuisine and ingredients. 

My mom gave us a generous gift certificate for the restaurant as a Christmas gift back in 2018. Fortunately for us, it said right on the page that it would never expire, and so on the heels of all the ups and downs of the last 4 and a half years, I finally made a reservation for last night.

It was a fun experience, and our menu is featured below.

In the spirit of the place, tonight I made a trio of squash featuring early ingredients from our garden-- garlic, shallots, basil, zucchini, and squash blossoms, along with farmer's market cherry tomatoes, spaghetti squash, eggs, and cheese. And while the stuffed squash blossoms, zucchini noodles with fresh tomato, basil, preserved lemon, and olive ragu, and warm spaghetti squash terrain might not be as expertly prepared as the fine food we had last night, the portions will definitely be larger. 

(But, hey! No shade, Dabney! Ours is only 3 courses.)

Lucy's Morning Out

Our cleaning lady came this morning just a little after eight, but no worries-- Heidi had already walked Lucy and worked out with her trainer, and I had meditated, made breakfast, and picked up. We even had errands planned to fill the time when she was here, and since it was so cool and rainy we loaded Lucy into the station wagon and brought her along. 

She was able to come into the first couple of places, Home Depot and Pet Smart, and while she was moderately excited about the first stop, she was super enthusiastic at the second. She stood on her back legs to see a cheeky little Conure who was pecking the glass at her, and she got into a stare-down with some of the adoptable cats. In fact, she might still be standing there now if we hadn't dragged her away. 

Lucy had to stay in the car for the next two stops, a thrift shop to drop off donations, and a diner for breakfast, but she didn't mind at all when Heidi left her with a few of the treats we had purchased at Pet Smart. 

Within a couple of hours, we three were back to our clean house, feeling accomplished, and a couple of us were ready for a nap.