Country Rose take me home

We had this feeling that from May onwards the summer would shoot by and before the Smith & Wesson could be reloaded it would be September. And so it has been I am starting this blog on the eve of the topic of the next blog. So I will forgo the Wagner Ring Cycle approach and add just a few stories to the pictures.

Oh the title by the way is because like I have been singing "Eating Trifle" by the Jam for years, P has been singing "Country Rose Take me Home" ...and we didn't even get to West Virginia. Anyway..

Jamestown earlier than the Pilgrim Fathers and evidence there is competition amongst heritage trade to be the “oldest”.

Given the potential dental bills (See previous blog) our choice of real estate has taken a down turn

But once he has paid for the first crown maybe we could consider



And I am making the effort with more hard wearing outfits

But if we default at the dentist, here is our escape vehicle..only 140 days back to Blighty

How big?

Then this man came and said he was from the Dentist and if we didn't pay up he could do this


And while he completed the "thirdy toooooooo separaate operashuns" it takes to re-load the darn thing we high tailed it to Williamsburg only to be met by the big boys dental debt collection service



And our own firing squad



We went in search of a last supper......

Ye Oldy ENGLISH Towny Pubby

Enter authentic female maidservant with guitar (her lute was in for repair).

In a quite well spoken voice with just the odd twang:

“I am gonna sing for you (a very English pronunciation of you, mind) a song which is based on the fact that beer came down in prarce because the prarce of barley dropped and the man is very happy. And you see they used these coins called ayngels and French crowns so you see the beer came down from an ayngel to a French crown because barley goes into beer you know”

Clearing of throat…

Ye oldy worldy strumming of the strings and from the lily white throat of said minstrel bursts the voice of ……………
…HILDA BAKER

“Oh happeeeeeee I am for beer has come down from the prarce of an ayayayayayayayayngel to a FRRRRRRench Crowowowowowowowown

“Joyne in everybody”

But only if your Arthur Mullard surely?

S to P - Don't laugh, don't look at me, look away, look away, drink ye oldy English fruity punchy not noticing ye oldy english honey beeyeeyeeyeeyeeyeeyeeyeeyeeyee into the bargain.

And so to our punishment for mocking…

- missing a black bear as we commenced the Skyline Drive through the Shenandoahs, also known as the Blue Ridge Mountains.

- having a dead camera battery as a raccoon sauntered past me outside the restaurant kitchen, whistling and sporting his swag bag and burglar mask

- the very same raccoon that wandered into our room looking for diamonds or cookies muttering “Evenin” to P in a jaunty cockney burglar accent. P almost answered him, then thought he was a cat and finally did a Lee Evans shuffle of his feet so the Norman Stanley Fletcher of the Shenandoahs disappeared while I was juggling the camera.

But we got these





Set against the backdrop of






The forests were almost deserted



This is a reflection in the water I was not looking upward



And the flora and the fauna










I shudder to think...

We did some climbing



...if you can't say a anything nice don't say anything at all!



The front is a bit of an improvement


and when we got to the top



Some pottering in waterfalls







And some running away when we were suddenly reminded where we were




P was not allowed to run he had to take the pictures while Roisin went in search of a portable defibrillator for me (I am terrified of snakes). She resorted to mixing up some of the strange fauna I showed you earlier and feeding it to me via a jam sandwich. My heart slowed to normal about 1 hour later.

And as the sun sets over the Shenandoahs





Remind me to tell you some time about the theatre director from DC who found the smell of skunk a huge turn on.....