In Which We Go To Church and Escape To Cracker Barrel

This morning Great Grandpa, Grandma, Dad, and I went to Grandpa’s church. We came in just a tad late for Sunday school, during a teaching on Jeremiah. About fifteen pairs of eyes turned on us, and several greetings of “Hey, Ernie, good to see you” came out.

They all seemed happy to see him, and happy to see grandma and meet me (he introduced me as his granddaughter, so they thought I was grandma’s daughter, because Dad was out in the hallway.) There was some Virtual Cheek Pinching, and some of those Comments Grandmothers Make (with the exception of mine), “Isn’t she a cute little thing.” Later, one older gentleman told Dad he didn’t think I was more than twelve. So much for feeling grown up and mature :)

It did help, however, to realize that I was probably the first person under the age of sixty to have stepped foot in that room for a number of years…

The service was not lively by any stretch, but there was quite a bit of scripture reading, and the speaker (who wasn’t the regular pastor) read right through the book of Jonah, merely commenting on the way. It’s nice to have it like that, undiluted.

Grandpa’s having a rough time of it, so we drove home and dropped him and Grandma off, and Dad took his newly-twelve-year-old daughter to Cracker Barrel. We had a very nourishing meal. At least it tasted and seemed that way. Neither Grandma nor Grandpa eat very much at meals, and I guess we were both self conscious (at least I was) about pigging out around them, but we were both famished. The appetite that was languishing so at home seems to have leapt to life with the changes of scene and circumstance.

I gobbled up chicken and fried okra and scarfed down turnip greens and butter-bedecked cornbread. I’m a perfect southern granny when it comes to cornbread and turnip greens. When I looked at the mushy, pond scummy looking mass, I couldn’t figure out why in the world I want to eat them, but the first bite assured me my craving was true.

Dad and I took a self-guided (Dad-guided) tour of Jonesville and Elkin after lunch, which really didn’t take long. Elkin has some beautiful homes, featuring basements and those old-fashioned windows I adore. The streets are windy and hilly. We finally located a Wi-Fi hotspot at a friendly looking coffee shop on Main Street, which I plan to visit soon.

Just down the street from the coffee shop is a stately looking post office which I might visit as well, and just down from that, the Elkin Public library, which I would probably want to visit if I were going to stay longer :) From there, the street turned down a row of houses and trees that had belonged there a long time.

It surprised me when, after driving down that street, I found myself thinking, “I wish I had a reason to live here.” I’d like to hang around that library, reading poetry and writing letters to mail at the post office, and hide out in the coffee shop, blogging my heart away and maybe really Writing Something. Maybe living in one of those Houses with Personality and Scope for the Imagination. Spending some time in the woods on the mountains.

I don’t know. It’s just one of a thousand little dreams in my head, and it sounds kind of lonely with just me in it. It’s not something I’d want to spend my life doing, but maybe a summer with some other girls who like to read poetry. Hmm.