Mountain Mamma
“Country Roads, take me home to the place I belong…”
The song goes on to say, “West Virginia, mountain mamma. Country roads, take me home.”
Big ups to John Denver!
I never thought I would connect so much to a country crooner’s ode to the place he called home.
I'm not in West Virginia but I felt such a kinship to the lyrics of "Country Roads, Take Me Home" when I arrived in Virginia. Being back here, I can honestly say, I’ve never felt firmer soil under my feet.
Don’t get me wrong -- the Midwest was good to me. And I’m still an Indiana Hoosier, Boilermakers variety to be exact, but Virginia is my birthplace.
My fondest and most tragic memories were scripted in the narrative of my life right here, amidst the backdrop of the salty ocean air of Tidewater to the stoic oak-lined streets of Northern Virginia, perched just outside of our nation’s capital.
Now, after another career switch for the hubby, I call the base of the Blue Ridge mountains home. How bad could that be?
The new digs are lots of fun but emptying boxes is not, which is why I’ve been MIA on the blog for a while.
I’ve missed sharing with you guys, so here’s the scoop:
Firstly, Vermilion Lane will go full steam ahead, though I won't be able to claim the Midwest Momma title anymore. I will, however, honor the beautiful people and places throughout the Midwest in my dishes and wishes for the rest of my days.
Second, the new house – what a difference 85 years makes – is a colonial built in a few years ago - a far cry from our 1932 Cape Cod in the heart of Purdue country. It’s a blast to decorate but wow are the two styles different. I’ve been trying to keep a tight lid on the decorating budget – no small feat.
Most importantly, the cast and crew – my kids and husband – are adjusting fine. The daughter is like a duck to water, as always, and her separate teens-only bathroom didn’t hurt. The twin brothers are better than ever, loving the newfound freedom of closing the door to their individual rooms.
The dog -- Uniqua, aka The Drowsy Pug -- has made it her business to do her business all over the house. Someday I’ll find a curse word worthy of the cheeky way she taps the bedroom door with her paw to make sure we’ve noticed her mess.
She has also discovered the art of vent-blocking on chilly mornings. As Uniqua sees it, a 16-pound pug is far more in need of warm air than two lowly humans. What, you didn't know?
More to come soon...until then, where is your favorite place to call home?
Comments