Hello, friends! I write you from Staunton, VA, tiny mountain town and proud "Breadbasket of the Confederacy." So far, the only confederate flags I've seen have been on the tourist brochures ... but I'm sure that'll change, sooner or later.
Anyway, I have a backlog of blog-age for you, so we'll start with what I wrote on the way here, and work our way forward to the present in a post or two, yes? Yes. Here we go.
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Saturday morning, I jolted out of bed at the inhospitable hour of 5AM, dressed, ate, said goodbye to my family, and had my Dad drive me to the station, for the second time in six months.