At our neighborhood Kroger on a too-warm December 30, the clerk, an older woman, saw that one of my bags said "Jewish Currents." She looked at it awhile then asked, "Do y'all do anything special for New Year's?" Joe would have said "It's not our New Year." I disagree. As an American by birth and by choice, it is my New Year. I said " We'll probably go out to dinner and be home by 9 P.M."
We did go out to Lavender Cafe, a favorite Asian restaurant. We put on ties, which is rare for either of us. Joe wanted fish in black bean sauce with chow fun noodles. They told him it would have to be two separate dishes. I had pad Thai with chicken, what I always get there. Then we drove downtown for ice cream from a chain ice cream place. I don't remember the flavors, but we were home by 8 P.M. and asleep well before midnight.
We were invited to an early party January 1 (4-8) by our friend Adrianne, the closest Morgantown comes to a society matron. Since the Dobbs decision, she's become a Democratic Party activist. She helped me and other Democrats with our campaigns. Not long before we left the house, I scraped my arm on the corner of a kitchen counter and a piece of skin peeled off. I knew if I went to the emergency room I would be there for hours, so I put an antibiotic cream on it and covered it with a pad and off we went. The party was extravagant. Adrianne is from Georgia, and she served "Hoppin' John," which I had never heard of. It's black-eyed peas, collard greens, and ham hocks. Adrianne sent me a message a few days before the party that she would have some without pork, for us and someone else who isn't Jewish, but doesn't eat pork. The veggie Hoppin' John was quite good, and there was plenty of food. My problem was sampling all twenty or so desserts. One resolution down the drain by January 1.
I have medical appointments all through January. One last Friday was with a pulmonologist to discuss why my breathing is off. This week on Tuesday, I'm having an endoscopy, where they look down my throat into my stomach to figure out why I still have acid reflux. The week after that it's an appointment with the doctor who will take the cataracts out of my eyes.
I've been trying to visit one county per month within 300 miles of Morgantown, any state, in alphabetical order, since we moved to Morgantown in July 2012. I got held up, first with the pandemic, then with my campaign, which had me criss-crossing northern West Virginia, but not taking time to really explore. I figured if I started in November, and did three counties each month until June, I could be caught up. So the plan was to hit three counties this past week before my Friday office visit. The counties were Greene, Virginia, Giles,Virginia, and Greenbrier, West Virginia. I figured a half-day to drive, then an afternoon and the next morning to visit, and another drive in the afternoon. I managed to see a fair amount of Greene and Giles, but by the time I got to Greenbrier, I checked into the motel and crashed. It's 179 miles to Morgantown from Lewisburg, and by Thursday morning, I just headed home after breakfast.
Greene County is north of Albemarle County, where Charlottesville is located, and the south end of the county is rapidly developing as a suburb. I stayed in Albemarle County at a new motel in "The Usual Chain" about seven miles south of the county line, in a neighborhood full of strip malls and hotels, where it's nearly impossible to walk anywhere. I did manage to walk to a restaurant and a grocery store, but it wasn't easy. In Ruckersville, along U.S. 29, I found the tourist center in a 1920s farmhouse. The tourist lady and I got into a discussion. She's 60, born in Lebanon, Pennsylvania, and has lived all over upstate New York (too much snow!) before coming to Charlottesville, where she lived for twenty years. She's glad to be gone ("It's not like it used to be!"). Joe's voice in my head says "Nothing is what it used to be, is it Mr. Granger? " " No, indeed." I hear that complaint everywhere I go, including in Morgantown, where a woman I know, a civic gadfly, complained to me at Adrianne's party that Morgantown is not what it used to be.
Stanardsville, the county seat of Greene County, is still a rural small town, only a few blocks square. Half of the county was taken by the Federal government in the 1920s to form part of Shenandoah National Park. There is a monument to families who were forced to move off the mountain when the park was created. Even though it was quite warm when I was there (about 65 F.) a park ranger at the entrance to the park at Skyline Drive told me parts of the road were still icy and it was closed to the public.
Giles County is several hours southwest of Greene, just south of West Virginia. It's also in the mountains and pretty. It was a little cooler and overcast. I stayed 20 miles south in Dublin, Virginia. Much of the drive was on I-81, so it was a little easier than the back roads to Greene County. I stopped for lunch at a Sheetz in Staunton, a city I like and have visited. Sheetz is a gas station/convenience store/ restaurant, ubiquitous in this part of the world. I looked around a bit in Pearisburg, the county seat of Giles County, before heading to the motel. The woman at the desk suggested a place called "The Mason Jar" nearby for dinner. Another place down the road had a special on steak on Tuesday, but I normally don't eat beef. My sister and husband have both been on my case about not ordering what a restaurant is known for. This came about when I ordered chicken or turkey in a place known for crabs. There was a sign at The Mason Jar that the special was hamburger and French fries. I just about never eat that, but I ordered it, with American cheese on the burger and ketchup on the fries. It was excellent and cheap, but I could feel the difference in my body. Maddie, the waitress, came and sat with me. I was the only one in the restaurant on a rainy weeknight in January, although there may have been people in the bar downstairs. I was flattered because she'e 22 and pretty with tattoos and piercings. She told me her main job is at the restaurant, but she has a college degree in journalism and works part-time for a company doing publicity. I told her I had run for Congress in 2022 and she could look me up. She did. It says "politician, age 73" she said and gave me a look. "You can't be 73!"
I spent the next morning in Pearisburg, looking around. There is a waterfall, but it was a four-mile round trip hike and I didn't think I could do it. I did drive up a mountain to Mountain Lake Resort. Part of "Dirty Dancing" was filmed there. I didn't find a lake. In town, I visited a thrift shop and a bookstore, Walgreen's and Food Lion. I bought cottage cheese, yogurt, a single serving of Cheerios and a banana, and ate lunch at a park in Pembroke, downhill from the resort, and east of Pearisburg. I drove from there through Narrows, a small town on New River, and then off to Lewisburg, which shouldn't have been far, but seemed like it was. On U.S. 219, there is a mountain wall, separating Virginia from West Virginia. In the northern part of the state, the boundaries were created by Mason and Dixon and Abraham Lincoln and don't seem to make any sense.
Greenbrier County is large in area as West Virginia Counties go, and I drove through Ronceverte to Lewisburg, the county seat. I stayed just north of downtown. Lewisburg is a green and pretty town. I crashed and burned in the hotel. I got up for dinner and walked to a Shoney's restaurant in the same development as the motel. I was worried that I was wearing old torn-up jeans and thought I looked awful. In the restaurant, everyone was my age and older and was wearing old torn-up jeans, so I fit right in. There was a buffet, so I was able to eat healthier, except for the piece of fried chicken and the desserts. There is a bar in the hotel, and a woman I saw on my way out, who was smoking a cigarette just outside the bar, was still there, still smoking, with a tall, young, unkempt man, with wild red hair piled on top of his head. She went back in the bar, but the man, Phillip, stayed outside and we talked for a long time. His father is British, and he and the young woman are partners. They own a cattle ranch in Costa Rica, but he lives in West Virginia and does construction and other manual labor. He asked me to come in and have a beer, but I demurred. I told him I was too old to drink at 73. Like the woman, the night before, he didn't believe I could be that old. "What's your secret?" I said " I don't smoke or drink or do drugs." He and the young woman were both coughing. We talked for about a half hour, and by 7:30 I said "I'm fading. I have to go." All these people think I look young, but I don't feel that anymore. I want to go back to Greenbrier County, and really explore it. It was not in my congressional district, and I had never been there before.
I thought about going to urgent care Monday morning before I left, but I decided my time was limited, so I skipped it. My arm held up okay. It wasn't bleeding and didn't look bad until Wednesday night, when it was red and painful. Thursday morning it was oozing pus. I drove home, arriving about three, went to sleep, had dinner with Joe, and went out to urgent care. The doctor explained that because my tetanus shot was up to date, it held off the infection for a few days. If I had come in Sunday when it happened, it could have been stitched. They x-rayed my arm, and there was no bone or muscle damage. The nurse bathed my arm in peroxide and wrapped it in two layers. She said "It's easy to do this." I said "Easy for you. I can't do this alone and even with help it never works out." I cooked dinner and went to services with Joe Friday night. I felt clogged in my nose and ears, but basically good.
I rested a lot Saturday, doing my walk around the neighborhood without difficulty. Joe helped me change the dressing Saturday night. We ordered carry out pizza and stopped at Kroger for ice cream instead of going downtown to the retail chain ice cream place. WVU had a big basketball game ( Kansas, who won) and I didn't want to be out.
The lesson? Stop everything if you have an injury and get it fixed right away. Also, don't try to do three counties in three days. I redid my schedule, looked at Year 12, July 2023 to June 2024 (Guernsey, Ohio to Harrison, West Virginia, alphabetically), and figured if I do two counties per month, I can be up to date by June next year. It's an attainable goal at least.
Here are some pics:
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