WINSTON-SALEM, NORTH CAROLINA

Last Friday, we left our house in the hands of a contractor working in the kitchen and headed down Linglestown Road for coffee and a bagel at Dunkin' Donuts -- the first stop on our four-day trip to Winston-Salem and back.

Three or so hours later, we were stopping for lunch in the Wayside Inn (1797) in Middletown, Va., which bills itself as the longest-running inn in the country. Not much later we stopped for gas outside Staunton, Va., birthplace of President Woodrow Wilson. After that short break, we hopped back into the Box and cruised through the valleys and hills of southern Virginia and North Carolina to Winston-Salem, site of an 18th century Moravian settlement, like Lititz and Bethlehem in Pennsylvania. The settlement at Bethlehem, in fact, had sent believers down to North Carolina in 1759 to begin communities there.

We checked into the August T. Zeverly Inn, right on Main Street in Old Salem. Today, the town's preserved and reconstructed buildings, staffed by living-history interpreters, present visitors with a view of Moravian life in the 18th and 19th centuries. We were greeted by the innkeeper and shown to our room, a comfortable garret room on the top floor of the inn. The steps were a killer, but the room was nice and well-decorated.

During our visit, we saw the visitor center exhibits (including the famous David Tannenberg pipe organ) and visited shops in the village, which is very beautiful. We had good breakfasts at the inn (French toast one day and egg casserole the other) and some great chow at restaurants in the area.

On Saturday, we drove our faithful friend Mr. Box over to Jamestown to visit Furnitureland South. We have been looking for a table to use beside the new Shaker-style bed we bought. We found a very nice one and placed an order for it. We also stopped in the French Heritage section, which had lots of interesting stuff with a French flair. We felt the highboy sitting out in front of the store might be too high for our ceilings to accommodate, so we passed it up.

We returned to Salem and did some more sightseeing. I photographed a large number of the buildings. In the evening, we joined Susanne's sister Robin and friends for a charity event in Greensboro, about a half-hour away. About three hundred people milled about a large exhibition hall, tasting appetizers, entrées, and desserts -- all made by men to help the local women's resource center, a place where women receive information about services available in the community.

Robin's friend (and ours, too) Andrew had prepared shrimp for the event, and everyone seemed anxious to taste his creation. For some reason, I kept drifting to the other side of the room, where the desserts were being offered.

On Sunday morning, Robin and her friend Ellen and I went to Home Moravian Church, the center of religious life in Salem. There we encountered the Moravian Lovefeast, a way of commemorating events in the history of the church or certain days of the church year. During the service, teams of "dieners" or servers passed through the congregation, passing out sweet buns. This was followed by coffee with cream and sugar. After a blessing, the congregation listened to choir music while enjoying this friendly meal. It's one of many ways in which the Moravian Church points out its own unity in diversity.

After church, we checked out of the inn, had lunch, did some shopping at Susanne's favorite southern store, Steinmart, and then headed a few miles west of Winston-Salem to Clemmons, where we checked into the Manor House at Tanglewood, a mid-19th century mansion-turned-bed-and-breakfast in the center of a huge county park.

Our room was spacious and beautifully appointed, everything being "done up" in blue and white. It seems we were the only two people in the place, a fact that we found out in the morning when we reported for breakfast! Robin and Ellen had come along, and we spent the evening having pizza in Winston with Andrew meeting us there, and then an hour or so of conversation in our room.

The morning brought breakfast, including the best grits ever, then check out and departure, heading north through that gorgeous countryside under blue skies (well, part of the way, anyway). We stopped in Virginia at an antiques mall, where Susanne added to her collection with a milk strainer and an electrical insulator. (Don't ask!)

We were home by dark, eager to see if our kitchen project was completed. It was, and almost to our satisfaction. But that's another story.

PERRY HALL, MARYLAND

Perry Hall is a suburb of Baltimore, and we drove there yesterday to visit our son Matt, his wife Marylee, and their two-and-a-half year old, Ian.

At 8:30 a.m. I had played the piano for an early worship service at Market Square Presbyterian Church in downtown Harrisburg. I came home and goofed off a bit, and then we jumped into the Box and headed toward Ian, er, I mean Perry Hall.

As we drove past the Perry Hall welcome sign, I wondered where the name came from. Here's the skinny:

"In 1774, Baltimore businessman Harry Dorsey Gough purchased a 1,000-acres estate called The Adventure. This estate included much of northeastern Baltimore County, and Gough renamed it Perry Hall after his family's home near Birmingham, England. He completed a mansion that became known for its great gardens and distinctive architecture, rivaled only by Hampton House, [down the road] near Towson." (www.perryhallmaryland.org/history)

When we arrived, Ian was waiting for us at the door. We enjoyed seeing him and Matt while Marylee was at a shower. Ian showed his trust in his dad by leaping off one of the steps in the house into his dad's arms. It was almost time for Ian's nap, so Meemaw read him a story, and then he fell fast asleep.

Matt, Susanne, and I retreated to the coolness of the basement and chewed the fat while watching the food channel. There was a Baltimore bent to the shows we watched. One was the Baltimore- based Ace of Cakes, and the other featured a visit to Baltimore's Broadway Diner by the diners, drive-ins, and dives guy.

Soon Marylee arrived home, and our conversation continued. It was determined that Ian had slept long enough so Matt went upstairs to wake him.

Earlier, I had constructed a little building from Lincoln Logs so that Ian could have the pleasure of knocking it over, which he seemed to enjoy doing. Susanne and Ian played with a railroad set, Ian tackled an inflated football player, and he built a fort with cushions from the couch.

Soon it was time to eat, so we ordered out and had some great dinner treats. The pictures tell all. Ian and his mom and dad wished each other "cheers!" as the meal commenced.

The after dinner show included Ian singing his version of "Ding, dong, the witch is dead," which he has heard being sung by the kids at his babysitter's house, and then did a turn on the cool wooden European bicycle that teaches kids to balance and prepares them for the big time.

As we left for home, Ian was preparing to ride his bike around the court with Mommy close at hand, and Matt was heading into the house for a well-deserved snooze.

 Ian gives my log building a good whack.

  Matt had a shrimp melt.

Marylee had a crab cake sandwich.

Ian had Ian food.

Susanne had a quesadilla.

  John had a panini.

 A future Tour de France winner

gets his start.

 

 Father and son.

 

 Matt looks on as Marylee and Ian wave goodbye.

  The Box prepares to pull out as Marylee and Ian

start their trek around the court and Matt heads inside.

CARLISLE, INTERCOURSE, AND LITITZ, PENNSYLVANIA

Today I took the Box to Costco to buy one of their tremendous chocolate cakes, a mile high and covered with chocolate shavings. It was destined for consumption by hungry American sponsors and International Fellows at the U.S. Army War College in Carlisle.

Susanne and I are community sponsors for a French Colonel and his family. He is studying this year at the War College. Community sponsors help to acclimate the "international fellows" to the American way of life and try to integrate them into our community.

One of the historic buildings at the War College.

When I arrived at the War College, I was asked if I had any weapons or explosives. I showed the big bread knife that I had brought to cut the cake. I wonder if that was the reason the officer at the gate made me get out of the car, open all the doors and trunk, and raise the hood. He looked under the car with a mirror on a stick. All that was missing was a sniffing dog. And the worst part was apologizing for the messiness of the interior of the Box! "Oh, don't worry, sir," said the guard. "I have seen many filthier than this."

Once inside the gate, I found the area where the picnic was being held, deposited the cake, showed the woman how to cut it (she thought that was pretty cool), and then asked her how I could find "my guy," the way the sponsors tend to refer to their officer. She took me right to him, at the end of the food line. There I met him and his lovely wife and four children.

We got to know each other in line and later at the picnic table. It will be fun to get to know them better this year. When their kids had worn out, we all left. I collected the knife and serving tool and the remainder of the cake, which was the plastic lid. Not only had the cake totally disappeared (a good thing, really!), but so had the plate.
 
On the way back to the Box, I watched the International Fellows in a tug-of-war (see video link below). Kids were still playing in one of those inflated bouncy "castles," and some of the older kids were kicking a soccer ball around the field.

Yesterday the Box had gone in another direction. Susanne has the idea that she would like to have a longer dining table, one made of old barn wood. Naturally, the Internet provided the name of a company that makes such items. And it was not too far away, with two showrooms, one in Bird-in-Hand and the other in Intercourse, Lancaster County.

So we drove south on I-283 then to US 30 and finally to Old Philadelphia Pike. There we wound our way through farm fields and small towns until arriving in Bird-in-Hand. It was there that we encountered the first schlocky tourist shops. We saw the table shop, but being hungry, we headed first for the Bird-in-Hand Farmers Market. There was a lunch counter there, but you had to sit on a stool, and it did not look very comfortable. It was a small market, but everything looked fresh and good.

We decided to go on to Intercourse. There we parked at Kitchen Kettle Village, where I had just been with the LEC French students the week before. It's a fake little village of shops, some nice and others selling the same souvenirs as elsewhere, but more tastefully. We did have a nice lunch at the Kettle Café. Then we walked around a bit (the weather was really nice), and took off back down the road to the Old Road Furniture Company. They had some very beautiful tables, but all more "refined" than the barnwood table Susanne wants.

A very nice young man talked to us a bit then gave us directions to the barnwood store at the other end of town. There at E. Braun Farm Tables were a lot of options such as length, width, thickness of table top, number of extensions, kinds of wood, etc. Susanne liked them all. The salesman there told us that there were other styles on display at the Bird-in-Hand store, so we decided to check them out.

In the Intercourse area, you see lots of Amish folks driving buggies and wagons, walking, or riding scooters (both children and adults). We stopped to take a picture of Susanne stealing corn (just kidding) and were surprised to see a barefooted Amish girl, about 8 or 9 years old, on a scooter, riding alone down the side of the highway, dodging the horse poo. Now, we all know that we would never let our kids do something like that.

Interestingly, "my guy" at the War College said that during their first week, they all took a bus tour of Lancaster County, and he was very uncomfortable looking out the bus window at the Amish people, comparing it to one of those rides through a zoo to see the animals in their natural habitats.

Anyway. after seeing the farm tables, we decided to drive home through Lititz, where we stopped at a store where Susanne wanted to look for a large "tobacco basket." We need one badly, you see. She was unsuccessful, but we walked around town to the other charming shops there.


Soon we decided to continue on up Rt. 501 to Myerstown, where we would eat dinner at the iconic Kum Esse Diner. I had the senior meat loaf. For the life of me, I can't remember what Susanne ordered. Unfortunately, they seem to have made the booths narrower since our last visit, so my getting in and out was not the most graceful thing I have seen.

From there we continued north to Bethel, where we joined up with I-78 eastward toward I-81 and home.

Here are the tug-of-war video and some additional photos:

 

  Kitchen Kettle Village in Intercourse.

"Our" French family heading home for naps.

MT. GRETNA, PENNSYLVANIA

The weather was great yesterday, so it seemed like a good idea to take a ride to Mt. Gretna in Lebanon County. It's a woodsy resort area with many cottages from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. I really wanted to check out the miniature golf course there as part of the LEC French student excursion to Pennsylvania Dutch Country this week.

I invited my sister Rachel along, since we generally have lunch together after church, and we were joined by Susanne at the famous Chez McDonald's for a gourmet lunch. We set the Box on course for Mt. Gretna, heading east on Rt. 22, then onto old Rt. 22 to Harper's Tavern in Lebanon County. We changed direction there and headed south through Annville, and then east again on Rt. 322, past Cornwall and its extraordinary historic iron furnace, and south again to Mt. Gretna.

As we pulled into the village, we spotted the miniature golf course on our right. It was beside a store called La Cigale (French for 'cicada'), which sold fabrics, tablecloths, tableware, and photographs from beautiful Provence in southeastern France. It seems a Mt. Gretna couple had once brought home some things from their trip to Provence, and the next time they went, they were asked to bring certain things for friends and family. Soon, they were in business!

We went into the store first and looked around. While the women kept looking, I went next door to survey the golf course, which, I am sorry to say, I found lacking. I did enjoy, however, a brief conversation with the manager, a nice lady with a classic Lebanon Valley Pennsylvania Dutch accent.

So, it was back to the store for me. We continued to examine a number of items, all of them attractive. They even had the bee motif glassware that we have collected. We were able to resist, but Rachel made a purchase to give as a gift.

Leaving there, we drove a short distance to a group of distinctive yellow-painted wooden buildings, once part of the Mt. Gretna Chautauqua. According to Wikipedia, "Chautauqua is an adult education movement in the United States, highly popular in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Chautauqua assemblies expanded and spread throughout rural America until the mid-1920s. The Chautauqua brought entertainment and culture for the whole community, with speakers, teachers, musicians, entertainers, preachers, and specialists of the day. Former U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt was quoted as saying that Chautauqua is 'the most American thing in America.'"

Among the buildings remaining, we like the Jigger Shop best! It's a sort of open-air ice cream shop with the Jigger being its signature sundae, featuring vanilla ice cream, chocolate sauce, marshmallow topping, and their secret ingredient, "Jigger Nuts." Being people who never eat things that are bad for you, we denied ourselves the Jigger. The women settled for small dishes of ice cream while I had something I have not had for years, a chocolate malted milk shake.

Once our treats were consumed, we walked next door to a small shop and browsed. The yellow building looks a lot like a tiny Greek temple. There were some interesting things for sale there, but our sales resistance is now perfected. We left no money behind.

As we departed, we decided to go home a different way, and so the Box headed south again so we could pass the lake and watch the fun. There were tons of canoes on the water and hundreds of sunbathers and folks in the water on the far side of the lake.

Continuing on, we drove through tiny Colebrook, with its Coleman mansion and Tastee-Freeze, back to Rt. 322 at Campbelltown, passing by Annie's Soft Ice Cream (do you see a theme here?), through downtown Hershey and past the park and its many roller coasters, ending up back home just in time for a late afternoon nap.

Here are some additional photos from our drive. Click on any photo to enlarge it.

Dinnerware is displayed on tablecloths

made from French fabric in Mt. Gretna .

Susanne really liked this green tablecloth;

I liked the big yellow crock in the back.

This beautiful metal bench caught my eye. For the first

time ever, though, Susanne said it was too expensive!
I thought it was a bargain. Role reversal at work.

Gorgeous photos of lavender fields 

were for sale.

Rachel chats with the sales woman

after making her purchase.

I loved this scene of a lavender grower and his cart.

I forgot to look at the price!

Here's Susanne at her favorite green table.

The garlic man peddles his crop.

The cigale is shown in the dinnerware and the salt

and pepper shakers. It's the emblem of Provence.

I can hear cicadas outside as I am typing this!

More figurines show traditional Provençal costumes.

Flowers outside the Jigger Shop.

Susanne watches a sundae being made as she waits to order.

My malted milk shake was to die for (from?).

 The outside deck of the Jigger Shop was filled. 
It's so pleasant there, among the trees.

The signpost at Mt. Gretna.

One of the old Chautauqua buildings, now a shop.

Goodies for sale.

Canoes ready for a trip across the lake.

 A canoe glides by our vantage point near 

a dead tree, gnawed to death by a beaver.

 

The Coleman mansion at Colebrook is still beautiful.

It was built in the 18th century by the family who owned

Cornwall Iron Furnace and a nearly identical furnace

at Colebrook, Lebanon County.