Getaway.....

Two years ago, for our anniversary, we pulled off a long weekend in Lake Seneca NY, wine tasting and relaxing. 
We managed to pull off another trip this weekend, only took two years. It was supposed to be a return trip to Seneca, but at literally, the last minute -- ok, two weeks -- on the advice of a friend, we rearranged everything and wound up in Northern Va; a thriving wine country, in case you  were not aware. Highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys such a thing. Pretty much, a lot of people just tease us about our wine hobby. To which I say, "To each his own!"
We enjoy quiet time together, sipping good wine, eating good food, soaking in the local beauty, and meeting fun people.

I find it interesting that people we met, that discovered what we were up to, automatically assumed we were "getting away from the kids". Well, not really. It is more about "getting away from life". The kids just happen to be a part of that. We honestly enjoy traveling with the kids, and spending time with them. We have also just decided it is important to us as a couple and as individuals, to getaway from the cacophony that is life.
The best part of the weekend....
The quiet.
Not the lack of sound.
But the lack of noise.
We do not realize the amount of needless noise there is in our days and the effect on us.
We wound up outside of Purcellville, Va. in a 1700's farmhouse that had been "converted" into a bed and breakfast.
The beauty, other than the house itself and farm, was no tv or radio in our room. There was one in the common areas, that we found ourselves, not in the least tempted to turn on. It was heaven.
Moving to our own rhythm. Our own speed. Not one determined by outside forces.

  

The entire house is furnished in 1700's civil war era antiques, and is run by an adorable woman who made my children look calm!
She was described in some of the reviews as "eccentric", but I hesitate to use the term. Eccentric itself, denotes some level of insanity. This woman was anything but insane. She was a busy, energetic, eager to share her wealth of knowledge, welcoming individual, and great cook to boot! She was a civil war buff who could tell you anything about battles of the civil war, local history and the history of most of her antiques, as well as her house. She has lived here since 1970, when she and her husband moved with 5 kids into the house with no running water, or electric and her husband was sent to Vietnam. She claims she just "did what she had to do". Raised her family in the house, and after her husband died in 1988, decided she would open the doors to others. She raises chickens, sells the eggs, has half an acre of blueberry bushes she picks herself, uses at the B&B and sells to locals including many of the local restaurants, as well as up keep of the house, and going out every night at 1 am to deliver 100 newspapers because, "it pays $2000 a month! can't turn my nose up at that!" "Fortitude" is what comes to mind when I think of her. She is a ball of energy, warm and welcoming, yet I have a feeling doesn't take crap from anyone.Our room was clean, the sheets were crisp and the towels were fluffy. What more could we want?


 
We had the room at the end of the hall, with our own bathroom across the hall, and access to the library and sitting room downstairs, through a spiral staircase in our room. Sir Fartsalot insisted we use that entrance every time because it was "cool".  Not a darn thing was brand new in the entire house, the kitchen was a lovely eclectic collection of found pieces that just seemed happy arranged together. I loved it. I literally had to crawl up on my hands and knees to get into the bed.

The rest of the rooms were along the hall. Yes, those are original floors. Did I mention she raised 5 kids here?

Our bathroom. Nothing but the sound of the birds. This was an addition recently.

The staircase up to our room from the library. 

"Our" sitting room. To the left was a bank of doors that opened up to the deck. The outside did need a bit of work, which of course, seemed to be ongoing. 

Looking up into the room. Yes, there was a second bed on the other side of the room.

Kitchen side of the house. The chicken house and Barbara's "Office" -- a converted out building -- sit to the left. Along with a gardening "house" I would kill for! 

Just a small peek at some of her gardens. Nothing was perfectly manicured, which had been a complaint on one of the reviews. I, instead, found it more inviting, and charming that way. 

The front of the house.
I sat on the porch to read almost every morning.
Quiet. Birds. Cats coming to purr at my feet. The creak of my rocker.
Sounds.
Not noise.

Our "end of the house" -- we had the upstairs bedroom and the sitting room and library underneath.

Some of the out buildings by the "creek".

I really wanted to ask her if there were any ghost stories about the house.
I can only imagine the residents prior to her family,
but I was not brave enough to ask while we were staying.
I really didn't need those stories in my head at night!

Lovely irises in the front.

The kitchen. Behind me was a sun room that opens out to the side of the house, chicken coop and her "office". We sat in the kitchen for breakfast at our request and just have to smile at her energy and chatter while she finished our breakfast. Deliciously made from her own eggs, local organic milk and Va meats. She asked me Friday if I was a good cook, and we talked at length about some time she spent in France living and learning to cook! She even tried a recipe on Sunday for sticky buns so she could get my opinion.

This here, will visually define the keeper of the house. This is  stack of magazines and books, perched on a footstool in the library.  Perched to nearly falling, yet did not fall. Disorganized, appearing to be ready to fall over at any moment, but steadfast.  I just smiled to myself when I saw this pile, because it so perfectly personified her and the house. 

Oh and did I mention, it had been part of the underground railroad?? This is the trap door that is in the original "one" room of the original farmhouse.
Other than a creepy inconvenient *small* stink bug infestation, our stay was very pleasant.
we were literally welcomed right into her home. I felt so bad not helping in the kitchen, but the one place she said another person was not welcome to help her was her kitchen, since she had "her way" and everyone else just got in "her way". This as well made me smile, as I get the same way.

So, this was "home base" and we traveled out each day in a different direction exploring the local area.......
at our own speed.
in our own time.
with the radio off.
It was heaven.