The storefront renovation is complete and we’re swinging the doors open this Saturday.
Here’s the invitation.

I’m so excited to take back the country today. And I’ll be particularly proud to watch Virginia’s vote. A big thanks to everyone across the country and in this state who donated their time, money, and efforts to take the country in a positive direction.

Anyway: Sandy was cleaning out her studio and generously offered us a bunch of old furniture. Here’s what she gave us in exchange for us keeping an eye open for two specific things she’s looking for:

• An old Victorian sofa — completely stripped down to its horsehair stuffing (has neat old claw feet)
• A vanity dresser and mirror — in need of a little TLC
• An old rocking chair — I’m hoping Janice will cane it for me
• …and a handsome Victorian chair pulled from an old Harlem hotel “back in the day”. This last item is really special (and doubly so, since Brian and I used to live in Harlem!).

So, we graciously accepted her offer! We have all these items stored in the empty Victorian. Somehow, our old decrepit house with well-worn furniture makes the perfect Halloween tableau. Maybe that explains the creepy shadow present in all these photos… bwahaha!

We weren’t lacking any shortage projects after the grocery store opens. But who could resist?

Speaking of the store… we’re slightly delaying the Grand Re-Opening. Here’s why!

I admit: I was grumbling a bit about the cost. It seems like quite a bit just to keep a tree healthy. Then I realized that this is the only big tree on either of our properties. In fact, I started to think, this silver maple is my responsibility! My responsi-tree-ity! Who else will care for it? Haven’t I enjoyed all summer in it’s shade?

And so… I had a very Shel Silverstein “Giving Tree” bit of reflection and then decided that MY tree would get the best care possible, damn it!

So here are the results after four men worked on it. Two trunks were removed, they removed the dead parts, raised the canopy so to give our butterfly bush more light, and thinned the overgrown top so it would be healthier and less prone to breakage. Then they cleaned it all up.

It doesn’t look like much but it took a busy hour. The overall shape of the tree was kind of funky from lack of care earlier so it isn’t picture perfect… but it’s imperfection makes it lovingly quirky!

Hope the tree likes the trimming — I calculated how many hours I had to pay for it. But who else cared for this tree before?

Look carefully to see the differences.

One of the greatest gifts she gave me was quite literally a book of our family. She researched our family’s involvement here in Staunton and the Shenandoah Valley starting in the 1750s. Thanks to her efforts and those of my great-aunt Carolyn, I know a lot more about my family tree than most.

Here’s a photo of Bertha as a girl [scroll down]. She’s seated on the right. The photograph hangs in our hallway.

Here is her obituary from Staunton’s News Leader:

Bertha D. Gassett

October 8, 2008

BRIDGEWATER — Bertha Driver Gassett, 97, of 302 N. Second St., Bridgewater, died Monday, Oct. 6, 2008. Mrs. Gassett, born Oct. 9, 1910, at Weyers Cave, was the daughter of the late Irvin D. and Willie Long Driver.

Her husband, William McKinley Gassett, Pharm.D., predeceased her, as did her sisters, Irma Long Driver McCaskey, Mary Frances Driver Hess and Carolyn Click Driver. She was the last surviving member of the I.D. Driver family. She is survived by her two nephews, Andrew L. McCaskey Jr. and his wife, Teresa Houff McCaskey, of Elkhart, Ind., and David I. McCaskey and his wife, Janet Doerr, of Staunton; three great-nieces, Katie McCaskey, Kara Hegg and Annette Thomson; a great-great-nephew, Isaac Andrew Hegg; and brother-in-law, Andrew L. McCaskey Sr.

Mrs. Gassett attended Bridgewater College and was a graduate of Harrisonburg State Teachers College (now James Madison University) and the School of Medical Technology at University of Virginia. She was employed as a medical technologist at Emergency and Gallenger Hospitals in the District of Columbia, at Rockingham Memorial Hospital and Merck Pharmaceutical’s Stonewall plant in Elkton. She concluded her career as assistant dietitian for Madison College. She was active in professional organizations, serving for two years as president of the Virginia Society of Medical Technologists and Laboratory Technicians. A lifelong active member of Pleasant Valley Church of the Brethren, she also was a member of the Turner Ashby Chapter of United Daughters of the Confederacy. She and her sister, Carolyn, co-authored the genealogy reference “Descendents of Ludwig Treber (Lewis Driver) and Barbara S. Sprinkle in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, United States of America.”

Mrs. Gassett was especially supported in her final years by her cousins, Dorothy Wright and Hardenia Zigler; her companions, Nancy Stultz and Donna Lawyer; and her close friend, Carol Scheppard.

Visitation will be conducted from 7 until 8 p.m. Friday evening at Lindsey Weyers Cave Funeral Home.

The funeral will be at 2 p.m. Saturday, Oct. 11, 2008, at Pleasant Valley Church of the Brethren, with the Revs. Matthew Fike and Carol Scheppard officiating. Interment will follow in the adjacent cemetery.

Memorial contributions may be sent to Bridgewater Retirement Community, Bridgewater College or Rockingham Memorial Hospice.

///

Another mention of Bertha on this blog here.

Melissa was kind enough to feature me in her newsletter this month. That’s pretty cool considering she’s in the midst of her own urban to small-town life transition, Atlanta > Roquebrun, France. Thanks, Melissa!

Please feel free to have a look around and check out photos from our house restoration/renovation projects. If you are looking to make a big-city to small-town move, please contact me or consider joining the Urban Escapee Network.

As you can imagine, our house projects are on hold as we move quickly towards opening day at our grocery store.

Photos here: (It, too, is a restoration/renovation!)

For those who haven’t seen the interview with Melissa, please click here.

And — welcome to the newest member of the Urban Escapee Network — Valerie Kell.

Fleeing Second Babylon Too Much To Bear
By Luanne Austin

It was something we talked about all the time. Getting off the island, out of the suburbs, away from the shadow of the city. And so, when we could, we did.

This month we’ve lived in the Shenandoah Valley for 30 years.

I was 23 then and so sure we were doing the right thing. Our friends envied us for having the courage to pick up and go.

All our family was there, on Long Island and across the sound in Connecticut. Fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers, aunts, uncles and cousins. Many lived within a few miles of us.

Still, I did not cry when we left.

Some told us we’d be back. Maybe because others had gone and returned. But there was never any question of that.

Though I lived in several lovely villages growing up, the island was already starting to change. By the time I was a teenager in the late 1960s, the island (except for “out east”) was becoming one big suburb of New York City. The best farmland in the world was paved over with highways, shopping plazas and housing developments. The Great South Bay, once teeming with fish and shellfish, became polluted. The noise of traffic never ceased, except for the middle of the night. I loved getting up at 4 a.m. and riding my bicycle in the silence.

Something about my soul yearned always for woods and mountains, for expanses of open land and quietness. On Sunday afternoon rides in our station wagon, my dad often headed for the Throg’s Neck Bridge, which took us upstate to the Catskill Mountains. Unfortunately, my parents were not hikers. When we stopped it was at antique shops, picnic grounds or restaurants. The forest was something I looked at from inside the car, but was not allowed to touch.

Even now, I love the woods. I feel most alive in the woods. For 13 years in an Elkton hollow we lived in the woods. But I am not comfortable going in deeply alone.

For many years after moving to the Valley, we spent two weeks every summer on Long Island visiting family and friends and going to the beach. Then my siblings and cousins began to move away. My grandparents died. My father-in-law and parents died.

My sisters live in Ireland and Maryland, my brothers in Massachusetts and Long Island. My cousins are in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Maryland, North Carolina and Florida.

I grew up surrounded by extended family. We visited each other all the time and spent holidays together. My children did not. It was not a way of life for them. This is how it is now for many people. Schooling, jobs and ambitions take them across the country.

I’m thankful that two of my grown kids like it here well enough to stay, and to raise their families here. Both live about 20 minutes away from me.

In spite of all the paving over farmland, the shopping plazas and housing developments, the Valley still has much of the woods and open spaces that drew me here 30 years ago. It’s scary to watch the growth, though, wondering when it’s going to slow down, when it will reach the tipping point where agriculture is no longer profitable because of taxes and lack of support industries.

Within and around the cities and towns the growth is OK (although it’d be nice to preserve a bit of greenspace). It’s the subdivisions and monster houses out in the country that creep me out. I don’t want to flee another Babylon.

Because this time, I would cry.

Luanne Austin lives in Mount Sidney. Contact her at RuralPen@aol.com or care of the DN-R.

Here’s a local controversy about a local entrepreneur gaining attention:

Shocking but true: An American city, in the year 2008, asked a jury to declare that a movie of adults having sex is illegal.

The ridiculous controversy is whether or not it should be legal to sell pornography. (What next? Ban the internet?). Here is the entire article. The author of this article describes Staunton:

Staunton, Va., is just a few miles from Monticello, home of Thomas Jefferson — author of the Declaration of Independence. And it’s only a few miles from Montpelier, the home of James Madison — who wrote the Constitution.

Staunton itself, in fact, is the birthplace of Woodrow Wilson, who guided the United States into and out of World War I. His presidential library is on North Coalter Street, two blocks from the courthouse. James Monroe’s estate is less than an hour away. Founded more than three centuries ago, Staunton is thick with the perfume of history. The history of freedom.

The author comes away with a bad taste of the city, one of repression and delusion (”Win the War!” posters mentioned). I disagree only with the author’s assumption that the entire town supports this inane lawsuit — in fact, I’ve heard many more voices against it. (And, for the record, see far more Obama/Biden posters).

Summarizing our town as small-minded is too bad, because, from my vantage point those with this view are a small minority… just too bad a minority that brings a case like this to court.

From Wired: Why Urban Farming Isn’t Just for Foodies

But what I love most here is the potential for cultural transformation. Growing our own food again would reconnect us to this country’s languishing frontier spirit.

Once you realize how easy it is to make the concrete jungle bloom, it changes the way you see the world. Urban environments suddenly appear weirdly dead and wasteful. When I walk around New York City now, I see the usual empty lots and balconies and I think, Wait a minute. Why aren’t we growing food here? And here? And here?

From Salon, Realtors Peddle Real Estate to Bike-Happy Clients

“Living out in the suburbs just isn’t a big deal anymore,” says Matt Kolb, a bike agent who owns Pedal to Properties, a Boulder, Colo., firm. “People want to live, work and go to school within a six blocks radius — that’s changing the way they look at property.”

Can’t grow bananas here, but I’m peeling out the bike more!

You see, the porch is a central figure in many homes. Ours may have played a role in the original owner’s reputation. I can imagine the whispers from long ago: “Why does Miss Lucretia Cox entertain so many single men on her porch?”

So, here are some recent changes. Of course, I just thought to take these photos tonight so you’ll have to use some imagination.

First, we replaced the single, sad-looking bulb with a handmade copper lantern my uncle David picked up from an artist friend.

Next, I painted the floor. I’d have preferred to keep it natural, but, the wood is weathered beyond what sanding could do to revive it. Here’s a “before” shot:

So now it’s a cool slate gray shade. The ceiling was already painted a light blue, per tradition. (Use your imagination with this nighttime shot). See the lettuce we’re growing? And the misty lake-fog light effect beyond?

Truthfully, these rails are unsafe and a real eyesore. We plan to re-do the stairs and rails sometime next year. Can’t you imagine Lucretia sitting here once?

The next big project tackled is underneath the porch. I’m painting it white — and, NEWS FLASH! — it’s kind of a real big pain. I spent most of the weekend on it, and so far consumed two gallons of paint. It’s not even halfway done. Here’s a shot in progress.

Whew! I actually look forward to a long week because that’s what I’ll be doing again this weekend.

The bedroom is on hold as we order some specific items. But wait, who said bedroom? We’re just chatting on the porch…