Asheville is a great town. Normal feeling but surrounded by mountains which impose a sense of importance. But then the people are incredibly laid back, so it all combines in an interesting way.
The sun rising over the mountains woke me up. "Hello, Liz," the sun said, "I'm so picturesque it's absurd!"
Felice and I left the animals at home and visited the Folk Art Museum. Surprisingly less dorky than it sounds, though Felice and I were the youngest there by a good 30 years. The featured exhibit was lace-making in progress.
(This is a pic from the internet.) Lace is made by maneuvering strings around different pins. The strings are attached to marked dowels. We were impressed. Then we saw one display that had unmarked dowels. Like, oh, you're so good you don't need marked dowels to make lace? Who do you think you are?
We took a long walk through the hills. It made me wish Asheville was flat and just surrounded by mountains. The walk felt like, I don't know--10 miles? It was probably only 1.5. I wore my converse and only got one small blister--a huge testament to the smartwool socks.
We passed the tiniest, cutest pomeranian puppy in the world. It squeezed through a 4-inch hole in a chain link fence. Felice put it back but it squeezed out again so she had to patch up the hole with a metal grate. I do not have a picture of it.
I made burritos for dinner, including an impromptu batch of I-hope-Chipotle-style rice. I remembered Rebecca's rhyme for successful Chipotle-style rice: "a little more time, a little more lime." Or it might have been "less." Or "more time, less lime." Whatever.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment