The River Tamer
I thought I should write to assure everyone that Richmond is proving to be a rather appealing place to be. Windy and I have been traversing around town in our now out-of-the-closet Volkswagen Beetle. (That's right, after 5 years or so of obvious denial and frustration, our red car has finally admitted to being attracted to automobiles of the same make and model.) And while racking up the milage by driving down every paved road in Richmond, we have started to get a feel for where we are.
One of the more alluring places that we have been anxious to visit is the James River. We are staying on the south side of the river, and we cross it every time we gayfully drive into town. It's not a huge, Mississippian type of river. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's not the kind of river you'd write something like The Illiad on. But it is quite stunning to look at. There are thousands of large, bald rocks which have been worn down over the years from the current. And these rocks contribute to the small yet intriguing rapids scattered about the aquavista. (YES, I've FINALLY figured out a way to use AQUAVISTA in a sentence!)
On weekends, teenagers, homeless people, and hippies gather to commune with the long-time frequenters of the river, who happen to be homeless teenage hippies. While this crowd can provide hours of entertainment for spectators and lookers-on (who happen to be different from onlookers), they can make one feel rather, I don't know, dirty. Now, I don't mean to be judgmental, but when I am afraid to get into the water downstream from someone for fear of my health, I move to a different spot. So I told Windy to follow me upstream. Watch me get ebola or something. I'm just waiting for Windy's TB test to flair up. Sheesh.
Windy kept going on and on about this Green River Preserve camp she went to as a kid. This was during her all black, turtlenecks and jewelry made from rocks phase. She claimed to be a master of crossing rivers. I mean, that's cool and all, but when I was 10 I was training to be a ninja turtle. I even had the briefs. I was a master of picking my nose. Anyway, she led the way. And we crossed it. The whole way, over dangerous rocks and swift currents. Then she showed me her River Crossing Master certificate when we got back to the room. Show off.
One of the more alluring places that we have been anxious to visit is the James River. We are staying on the south side of the river, and we cross it every time we gayfully drive into town. It's not a huge, Mississippian type of river. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's not the kind of river you'd write something like The Illiad on. But it is quite stunning to look at. There are thousands of large, bald rocks which have been worn down over the years from the current. And these rocks contribute to the small yet intriguing rapids scattered about the aquavista. (YES, I've FINALLY figured out a way to use AQUAVISTA in a sentence!)
On weekends, teenagers, homeless people, and hippies gather to commune with the long-time frequenters of the river, who happen to be homeless teenage hippies. While this crowd can provide hours of entertainment for spectators and lookers-on (who happen to be different from onlookers), they can make one feel rather, I don't know, dirty. Now, I don't mean to be judgmental, but when I am afraid to get into the water downstream from someone for fear of my health, I move to a different spot. So I told Windy to follow me upstream. Watch me get ebola or something. I'm just waiting for Windy's TB test to flair up. Sheesh.
Windy kept going on and on about this Green River Preserve camp she went to as a kid. This was during her all black, turtlenecks and jewelry made from rocks phase. She claimed to be a master of crossing rivers. I mean, that's cool and all, but when I was 10 I was training to be a ninja turtle. I even had the briefs. I was a master of picking my nose. Anyway, she led the way. And we crossed it. The whole way, over dangerous rocks and swift currents. Then she showed me her River Crossing Master certificate when we got back to the room. Show off.
posted by Jeff at 11:47 PM
4 Comments:
I'm the show-off?!?! As soon as you found out I was making a blog about our afternoon, you're the one that ran over and got the laptop out just so you could make a better one-
i think your husband knows it, cause he just emailed me yesterday. YEEAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!
and jeff, i'm glad you guys had a good time at the river and all, and i'm glad that you're enjoying richmond so far, however, you still continue to ignore my inquiries. what's with the secrecy about the job? i just want to know what you're doing. oh, and on my way to work today, i saw this high school kid walking to school who looked like you in high school. school school school. stunning young man.
sarah, did joey not forward you the e-card i sent a couple days ago? i also asked him for your email address, but he has not yet responded. shame on that joey.
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