Sunday Doings

Today we toddled over to Vesta Fire & Rescue in Meadows of Dan for their annual fundraiser meal & gospel sing. As is usual at these things, the food was lovely and the music simply outstanding! Mr. Fuzzy took photos & videos.... maybe I'll be able to cajole him into uploading some.

Scottish-American Pride

My friend Em posted this picture on her Facebook page. It was taken at the Carroll County (agricultural) Fair, which is was this weekend. Floyd is largely German but the surrounding counties have more Scottish and Scots-Irish ancestry. As you can see, some food preferences may be hard-wired in the genetic code of various ethnic groups.

I am told it was a popular concession.

Busy

It seems I've not posted anything for three days.

Naughty me... My goal was to write every day.

One of the benefits of Floyd being a tourist destination is you sometimes stumble upon neat stuff... especially old cars. Southerners (Easterners?) love their vehicles and take such inordinate pride in them. After living most of my life in the desert southwest it boggles my mind that folks around here see cars... even ultra dull Carollas like my old one... as more than a way to transport heavy objects. They love them. They spend money for specialty plates with vanity registrations. I will never quite understand.

These were in the lot of our favorite local restaurant, The Pine Tavern, last week. Just a bunch of North Carolina Chevy enthusiasts up for a little ride... who decided to take their cars to a restaurant that remembers when those old Chevies were new. Mr. Fuzzy was musing that only "whitehairs and retired executives can afford the time and money to properly restore such beauties." And, yeah, all the drivers 'what had hair' had no color left.

Harvest Festival

Mr. Fuzzy went into town this morning and came back with the report of "no parking whatsoever." Hmmmm? A Saturday in high summer with all the tourists gawking at novelties like non-chain hardware stores is one thing but after Labor Day??? Since I'm more willing (than he is) to walk a distance to procure good things from our wee farm market I decided to venture into the fray anyway.

Turns out this was the day for our "county fair" ... such as it is. This year it was all over town and, I hear, there were even a few animal exhibits. It certainly brought the people out enough to make today a bumper day for the regular marketers. Rocky and I bought bio-dynamic greens, lettuce, cheese, tomatoes and peppers. We passed on the organic beef and pork as I already have some in the freezer. We can buy Highland beef at the local stores any day of the week.

Our marketing done, Rocky got to take a nap in the car while I went up to Blackwater Loft, our local coffee shop, to get a tea and thirty pounds of used grounds and banana peels for the garden. The same folks have a roasting business called Red Rooster Coffee Roaster downstairs. They decorated their window most beautifully for the festival but the roasting machine inside was the best part.

Mmmmmmmmmmmm

That's the sound my new washer makes instead of chugga-chunkka-shhhhhhh like the old one. Plus, it's blue. Yep... front loaders are "the bomb."

So, Mr. Taciturn came over, they hooked both tractors up to the big truck and hauled the guys out in no time. The three of us enjoyed a cuppa and then us Fuzzys enjoyed a quiet repast by ourselves. Himself looking at the weather forecasts (dire, dire and extra dire) and I reading the washer manual. All our dirty stuff is now clean.

To answer Laussanne's question- they came in the front door and down the stairs with the washer then took out the old one... same with the dryer. They sit at right angles.... I need to locate my camera to show you... and it works much better than having them side by side. There'ss now a little dedicated space to the laundry stuff.

In other news, L.S.D. Salsa the Foster has accepted nighttime crating so we no longer wonder where the morning's pee spot will be. Huzzah! He spent the day in our walled garden and seemed to have a ball chasing the birds and digging in the snow. When I fnd the camera I'll make another video, this time playing "loose" in the fresh snow that started falling about 15 minutes ago... right on time as forecast! (Sometimes they get it right.)

Aye yah...

So, the washer & dryer arrived today. Early even! With two lovely guys who even managed a fix for the goof up at the store. The warehouse didn't modify the dryer outlet to be side venting. Glad we didn't pay extra for that feature! They were so nice we gave them a loaf of fresh banana bread as a thank-you.

And now, as I write (11 AM), they are thoroughly stuck in the mud outside my front door. It's been damned funny watching Mr. Fuzzy try to pull them forward enough to get on frozen ground where they'll have traction. Well, funny except for when the front tractor wheels are airborne and the truck is sliding sideways... Our awesome neighbor, Mr. Taciturn, is on his way with a bigger tractor and a different sort of brain. I'm making plans to serve lunch for four, maybe five.

Another post when it's all done.

xo

Mrs Fuzzy

Dancing at the Country Store

Floyd Country Store, every Friday of the year.
(Courtesy of YouTube.)

Pictures, Please!

I'd love to show you pictures of our cute little town all tarted up with streamers and plastic flowers... the big parking lot full of local craftspeople selling pottery, jewelry, tie dye (worth wearing!)... the stage-on-a-trailer and the little dance floor set up in the new park... the food vendors with portable wood fired pizza ovens and big smiles.

But I can't.

My camera went tits up, as Mr. Fuzzy would say. The lens moves around and then selects a random point to decide to crap out. After four tries I got lucky and it's almost all the way in and the cover is almost closed-- so at least it fit in my purse while I walked around and enjoyed myself at the Floyd Town Jubilee this afternoon.

Dred Organizers Grow on Trees

Or so it seems. We've had many dealings with such types in the last few days. Perhaps they grow them like cabbages in the next holler?

Today I took five of the second-cutest kittens up to the little college town of Radford where I met two other Floyd Humane Society volunteers to show off dogs and cats to folks visiting the Grove United Methodist Church annual yard sale & community 'do. They had a helicopter and a fire truck too... which meant large numbers of young children waiting until the 'copter landed. "Something to do" translated as "pet the kitties and doggies." It was lovely.

Then last night was First Friday at the arts center. ooooh Lots o' organizers there too. Terrible people. They hang shows of local art and have lovely classes to teach you new arts and crafts. Don't mess with them, though. They have blacksmiths and glassblowers!

And then there are those pesky village governments out in the county. Off they go donating the village hall, sound system, and hot dogs to throw a beneft to help an unemployed lady fighting her second bout of cancer.

Naughty, naughty people!

But it gets worse. There's this group called Angels in the Attic who run a really inexpensive thrift shop and send nearly 100K a year (their total earnings) to various local charities in need. And the worst of the worst... Plenty... a loose association of kind people who grow extra vegetables and keep extra laying hens to share the surplus with housebound and poor neighbors.

Why am I telling you this, in this way? Because someone tried to insult me for being something a pinko ecohead because I posted a wee thing from some other, national, community organizers on my Facebook page. See, your average pinko commie conservationist about Floyd is as likely to be an old school conservative Christian and Republican as she is a head-in-the-60's Democrat.

Ain't that cool?

Sense of Community

Most valued reader, our humble apologies for the delay in posting new essays. Mr. Fuzzy was away for three days last weekend and it was such a marvelous experience that his paltry writing skills have been severely challenged.

Thus this post regards yesterday, Saturday. The Fuzzies began their day early in order to be at the semi-annual community flea market before all of the good buys were sold. Overwhelmingly, the items for sale were clothes, shoes, etc., not farm tools, tractor accessories, and those other objects of our lust. Nonetheless, Mrs. Fuzzy bought some vegetable seedling for next to nothing. We worked up such an appetite walking and shopping that, after most careful deliberation, it was decided we should eat breakfast at the Cafe rather than perish of malnutrition on the way home. Alack and alas, the same thought was on many minds, er, stomachs, and the line was to the door. Sigh.

We came home and Mrs. Fuzzy worked hard in her garden; Mr. Fuzzy took a nap... until the appointed hour when we raced for the Honda and sped down Highway 221 to the next wee village of Willis. There in the fire station was a five hour Gospel and Bluegrass concert by three bands, barbecue, cake auctions, and a generally good time with our neighbors - all to raise money for the food bank. The music and singing was very good and then some, but for a while, we were severely distracted by the barbecue plate ($5.00) which centered on the tastiest barbecued pork yet to temp our palettes in Virginia - and the cooker was mounted on the back of a tractor - and done by two gents who live across the road. Mmmmmm. Mighty fine. The cake auctions were hot with some delectable delights going for nearly $30.00. We hung out until about 6:30 p.m. by which time we were feeling the pull of unaccomplished tasks on the farm.

What a nice day it was, mostly spent with our fellow Floydians (?), much fun, good grub, and sharing the news with our friends. What is there not to love here?

Seen on Floyd Freecycle List.....

WANTED: Ammo Cans

Posted by: "Tim"

Mon Apr 27, 2009 4:23 pm (PDT)

My Boy Scout Troop is getting ready to start a project and I need as many Military Ammo Cans as I can get. It doesn't matter what they look like a long as they will still close and lock in place.
Thanks,

Does Mrs. Fuzzy REALLY like it here?

Um, yes. I do. Why do you ask?

Any moment of the day or night I can, in complete safety, walk into the woods or field and quietly listen to bird- bug- or frog-song. There is soft, rich, green, grass under my bare feet and plenty of work to do with my hands. Inside may still be total chaos but there is great joy to be had within our cluttered walls. You all know how excited I was to have a properly working oven (and it gets regular use) but little did I know the pleasure I’d get in my kitchen from being the subject of Cat TV. There is a shed under the big window which the cats have designated “home base.” It’s lovely to look out at them looking in at us. Beyond the observation platform is beautiful apple tree. Under it lies Nutmeg who seems content for the first time in her 13 years. How can I not also be content?

I also have a little studio that is usable for reading right now. When we’ve created some proper storage space elsewhere this room will have areas for sewing, crafting, and writing. Finally I have that fabled “Room of My Own.” No sharing whatsoever. The companion idea of tearing apart a great big, ugly, and totally redundant bathroom send thrills through my bones. I like designing stuff! .... especially when it's useful and adds beauty to my home.

While I’m not a television enthusiast, I am a fan of sitting on the couch with Mr. Fuzzy who does enjoy perusing the cable listings for interesting programs. We've never had cable before! It’s a time for closeness, amusement, and enjoying some of my baking or a bowl of local ice cream. Sharing that bowl of ice cream in front of the tube makes even the worst day better by bedtime. Yes, Mrs. Fuzzy is quite content about 95% of the time.

So what ruins my little paradise five percent of the time? Clutter and situations where I must interact with lots of people or just a few for a long time. It’s not that I dislike people. You all just make me really tired after two or three hours. No fault on your part. Just a fact. I’d rather be away with the fairies or carrying rocks across the yard. I’ll add in the occasional trip to a certain grocery to this list too. The staff can be a bit doo-lally in that way I though we’d left in Santa Fe. Said store also has major problems with stock rotation and restocking. A trip to get organic canola oil can send me home ready to strangle helpless animals.

There you have it, dear friends: a reassurance that Mrs. Fuzzy is basically happy so long as she can make weekly progress with the clutter, avoid crystal-gazing flakes, and limit her contact with people who want her to act like a social butterfly. I keep to my garden and my errands and I have a happy time of it. I feel welcome and accepted no matter what I look like. Floydians aren’t the same breed as your typical Southerner (other Virginians use more colorful language) so we’ve suffered neither Bible-bashing nor Yankee-bashing. That’s just not the attitude here. If you’re willing to live rural then the locals are willing to let you be whomever you happen to be. The natives don't care if you're from away.

That’s the definition of paradise for me…

Highland Games at Mount Laurel, Virginia

Our dear friends, Bluebird and Roz, who live down in Patrick County, invited us to join them for a day of watching nearby Highland Games. So Mrs. Fuzzy and I made a thermos of tea, charged the camera battery and meandered down Skyline Drive until we turned off at Squirrel Spur and descended perhaps 800-1000 feet into the valley below and another few miles down the valley to Mount Laurel, the one time home of the famed Confederate General, J. E. B. Stuart. The last name should be a clue - he was of Scottish descent.

Here at the foot of the mountains we were captivated by feats (truly) of strength and agility. The normal games were there- caber toss, weight throw, hammer throw, sheaf toss... and also two others. One involved lifting a perfectly round 340 pound (yes, you read the correctly) stone above your head. The weight is,















of course, one problem, but getting a good purchase on a round stone is nearly impossible. The other category was a simultaneous dead lift of two stones whose combined weight was 770 pounds. There was to be another also involving a rather weighty stone but the second competitor broke the chain!

Like all good clan gatherings, there were clan registries and a pipe and drum band. In attendance were several heiland coos, as docile as our felines and looking quite regal. All in all, it was quite an outing. Thanks, Bluebird, for inviting us! We found the very next best place to Fifeshire - Floyd County, Virginia, and the proof is in the haggis... are we happy or what?

dreaded community organizers

It seems just like yesterday, during the Republican National Convention last September, when Sarah Palin said “I guess a small-town mayor is sort of like a ‘community organizer,’ except that you have actual responsibilities,” and later Rudy Giuliani made humor of the very concept of a community organizer.

Here in Floyd County, Virginia, what makes most all of the good things happen are those worthless community organizers, most of whom are working for free (not even the normal substandard pay) to help their fellow citizens without demanding government handouts or invoking the need for outside intervention. I've always heard things were done differently up in Alaska - and have known they were different in New York City - and this must be another case of unbridgeable cultural canyons.

Yesterday Mrs. Fuzzy and I attended an annual pancake breakfast put on by a tiny community organization centered around the little county church we live near. The organizer and power house behind it is in her 80s (being a gentleman, I will not divulge her precise age), aided and abetted by a 30-ish Methodist minister (the two folks in the photo-- you can probably guess which is which). This very loose group picks up trash along State Highway 221, helps elderly neighbors get their trash to a county trash center, and tries to make certain there are no hungry families in the community. They care for each other and strive to make Falling Branch strong and healthy. God bless them all.

On May 16th, the next village (Floyd is a teeming metropolis by comparison) down Hwy 221, Willis, will have a fundraiser at their fire station. For a very nominal donation ($8.00) you get to eat barbecue and listen to five hours of live gospel music so that the Willis Community Food Bank can take care of its own. Oh, and did I mention a cake auction? Their flyer advertises "bring your own chair and appetite, for good food, gospel singing & fellowship."

And here I thought grass-roots action was a hall mark of America and one of its greatest strengths - before Sarah and Rudy set my wrong-headed thinking back on the right track. Wow, thanks! I had even been thinking that Christ must have been one of the great community organizers of all times --- and Pontius Pilate one of the more interesting governors... where is he now when Alaska needs more good politicians?

Dinner Out

Mrs. Fuzzy occasionally needs a break from being chained barefoot to the stove and Mr. Fuzzy has that intense hankering for a dish or two she doesn't know how to prepare... thus we have almost always treated ourselves to dinner out once a week. The choices "back home" were legion, although in the summer and ski season, tempered by how long the wait might be to have a table. Back home there were over 200 dining establishments; we know of five in Floyd.

Now that's not a bad thing. They're all good, and except for one not to be mentioned by name, inexpensive and the wait staffs are superb. About twice a month we drive northward on Route 221, a few miles from the village limits, to sample the cuisine at Pine Tavern. Next door is a wonderfully preserved (and functional) 1920s tourist court, the Pine Lodge. The meals are in two forms: individual and family style. For the latter, it is all you can eat, presented in serving bowls for the entire table - and for $11 a person! That is not a typo. You get meats (fried chicken, country ham, roast beef), a selection from a large number of sides, desert and your drink for that price. Moreover, it is well prepared, the waitresses are excellent and the ambiance appealing. Reed, the owner, is always present and always jovial.


So we went on Friday night, did NOT eat the family style (we cannot eat that much) but instead ordered from the menu. There was so much food that Mrs. Fuzzy could not finish her steak and Mr. Fuzzy also had some remaining roast beast dinner ($9.00)to take home the dog.

Well done, Reed, well done.

Small Town Living

So, what’s a city girl think of living in a reeeeeally small town?

I think it’s great. Yeah, it’s shuttered by 9 PM but then so was Santa Fe. Yeah, news of the new people gets around fast. Yeah, people know what you’re up to and remember everything in a truly phenomenal manner. But….

I needed to get some eye wash for Russ at half past eight on Saturday. Everything really is closed at that hour on a Saturday so I called the one and only pharmacy anyway. By quarter to nine I was on my way home with the product the pharmacist-owner, George Fetco, recommended. He was in doing some remodeling and decided anyone who would try at that hour probably really needed him to pick up the phone.