A delightful detour

One day we were out an about and it was raining. Not pouring but just a steady fall of rain which kept us from doing much. We had passed this country seat court house many times and noticed it had been converted into a museum so we decided to kill some time and go on in.

 I found some of my heart's delights in there. I love love love old stuff. There is something about old things that swallows me up imagining a time when they were used. I get carried away thinking about who wore them, when and where....I just love antiques, history and old stuff. Although I admit some old stuff is funner than other's. I do love old baby bonnets and shoes.

 Ella of course was not delighted with going into a museum. Until she saw this room, filled with doll houses. I mean enormous, elaborately decorated, two rooms filled with doll houses. I think at that point, Daddy and Ezra were the scared ones. We hovered forever over each little room looking into them taking in all the details.

 Above that is a tiny doll house in the doll house! Mind blowing.

The one below reminds me of my doll house when I was a kid. It really looks very similar. I don't think mine was three rooms across though. It was blue with black shutters from the front and rooms were wall papered.  I wish I could remember what year it was given to me. I would have to say I was quite young because I can't so much remember. To hear my mom tell the story, my grandfather and dad were finishing it as I woke up on Christmas morning. They put it together themselves. I so wish I still had it. I do still have a piece of the attic space which they both signed. My mom kept that piece with my long since gone Grandfather's signature. Very precious. Least I have the memories of it. These doll houses were apparently a collection of a lady who never had kids and when she passed away she left them the the country seat museum. What a blessing for us.

This last picture holds lots of memories. It was the actual court room. As we were leaving that day the wonderful lady care keeping the museum told us that there was a free concert that evening in the actual court house room. Since it was still raining we went for dinner and came back for the concert. It was blue grass music and the room soon filled with every gray haired crown of wisdom in the whole community. We got a few sideways glances at our little kids, stink eye darts willing them to keep quiet during their precious concert. Many of them were just thrilled to have some littles there. Well they got lucky Ezra passed out and slept most of the concert and Ella was a grumpy grump. The music was wonderful. The court room was on the second floor and looking out those windows over the north Georgia mountains listening t It was one of the highlights of my trip which is weird because it was such an awesome trip over all. There was one song. Country Roads. Here were were making memories with our children driving country roads in Georgia. But what panged my heart was that it was my grandmother's favorite song. My mom always said my grandmother was born under a rock. We had so little of her history because she didn't talk about it. Ever. I know bits and pieces in my later years. She was actually a Floridian. Still weird to me to think we had roots right here in Florida and that's were I am growing my family now. Somehow, she met and married my grandfather and they lived in West Virginia. I imagine they were some of her best years, newly married living in gorgeous God's country in the mountains, driving those country roads just like we were doing on this trip. After my grandmother died my mom had an old trunk of hers. I don't know where it materialized from. I use to love to rummage in her basement storage room and I never remember seeing this old trunk. So one day I pilfered through it. I saw a tea stained little bag and opened it up and out from it tumbled tiny wooden toy blocks, ages old. I found a little baby outfit and a death certificate. I found a genuine family secret. My grandmother had had a baby before she married my grandfather. In those days that was akin to bearing a scarlet letter of shame. Her little boy's name was Sherman and died when he was around one year old. I imagine West Virginia and the love she found there with my grandfather was a time of healing and restoration for her. This is why I do this blog. I don't know if I will tell this story a thousand times to my kids, or never but I have it here now. our memories, gather round her.....

Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue ridge mountains, Shenandoah river
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, growin' like a breeze

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

All my memories, they gather 'round her
Miner's lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine, teardrops in my eyes

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

I hear her voice in the mornin' hour she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And drivin' down the road I get a feeling
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, West Virginia, mountain momma, oh momma
Take me home, country roads
Take me home, down country roads
Take me home, down country roads