We live very close to the border with West Virginia, and we'd never stepped foot in our neighboring state. So I put it on my list of things I need to do before I turn 40 and on Monday, I decided to warm up for our 10+ hour car trip that we are taking to Vermont tomorrow by driving to West Virginia.
Virginians don't speak very highly of West Virginia. I hear classist, red-neck jokes mostly and I try to turn a deaf ear to such things because I'm open-minded and white-liberal-guilty like that.
Besides, everywhere I've ever lived has a snobby attitude about somewhere else. In San Francisco, people looked down on Southern California. Then I moved to Southern California and the people there looked down at those in the central valley. Growing up in New Jersey, we looked down on .... ourselves.
And poor West Virginia. It just can't be as bad as my neighbors here profess.
I had heard, for instance, that you'll know the moment you drive into West Virginia because of all the toilets sitting on front lawns.
I can tell you that I didn't see a single toilet on any lawn. So there.
We decided to head to Harper's Ferry because... it was close. And had ice cream. Knowing nothing really about it, we ventured into the National Park there and wandered around the old town they have preserved for tourists/history buffs. Here are the girls after we walked up hand carved stone steps that are a part of the Appalachian Trail.
Well, that 20 minutes of walking totally wore us out, so then it was time for lunch.
Z chose the restaurant. It was ... mediocre.
Z chose mac and cheese and it was greasy and she didn't care for it, so her lunch consisted entirely of lemonade.
E ate some mac and cheese (or mac-n-and-cheese, as she calls it) and some lemonade and IS THAT SPINACH. OMG SHE CHOWED ON RAW SPINACH. IT'S A MIRACLE.
|(oh, and our 20-something waiter was missing at least half his teeth and this was the ceiling over our head. UM. WEST VIRGINIA HELP ME OUT HERE. I"M TRYING TO NOT BE JUDGY AND YOU'RE NOT HELPING.)|
I had promised the girls ice cream so with no further ado, we marched over for their very first ice cream cones. (Yes, I'm mean like that. This was a special treat.)
Both were YUM, though I nervously spent the last half of their ice cream eating terrified of when their sugar/food dye spazziness would hit.
With ice cream energy coursing through our veins, we walked through the John Brown wax museum (OMG HORROR SHOW COMPLETE WITH WHIPPED SLAVES AND A HANGING SCENE. I had to cover both my girls eyes and usher them through to keep them from having nightmares until they are 83.)
With that, we called it a day.
Here are the girls on the shuttle bus ride back to our car. Sugar high hasn't come yet...