On our way home from VA, Ian had some research assistantship duties to tend to in middle-of- nowhere, PA, leaving me a couple hours to do what I do best: putz, seek out thrift shops, and take photos.
The McDonald’s wi-fi (and enjoying some fries and a McFlurry….shh, don’t tell my wedding dress) only kept me entertained for so long, so I hopped into Ian’s car to go on an adventure. Never mind that the above photo was an accurate representation of the scenery for miles and miles. Surely there had to be some sort of gift shop…or a farmer’s market….or a greenhouse…
I turned on the ‘ole GPS and to my excitement, saw that there was an antique mall just five miles down the road! Five miles! That’s like, five minutes, right?
20 minutes later, and several towns over, I’m still driving and all I see are farms, while the GPS is telling me I have reached my destination. Pretty sure I hadn’t reached my destination. I pulled over to reevaluate, taking in the scent of cows and hay and cursing the incessant nagging of the GPS woman (re-CALC-ulating…!). The next “attraction” on the list was Morrison’s Cove Memorial Park in Martinsburg, PA, which I was pretty sure was one of the street/towns I passed through on my way to the non-existent antique store. Knowing it was going to be a long three hours if the the GPS kept telling me to go to fake small-town PA attractions, I decided to give the park a shot.
On my way there, my eye caught a thrift shop that was attached to a general store on the side of the road! Being the responsible driver I am, I swerved to make it into the parking lot, only to find it was closed…damn you small towns for closing everything after 5pm!
If I blinked I would have missed the scrawled-on-a-plank sign attached right below the library sign pointing in the direction of Morrison’s Cove. My expectations was a run-down, rusty, kidnapper-infested forest. Kind of like this:
As I wandered around, I saw a mom with a little boy who was (almost) as thrilled as I was with the wooden wonderland. I walked up the hill and saw a little bit of a little league baseball game, and could see in the distance the community pool being filled up for the summer season. Summer has officially arrived.
Then, I climbed back into the car and screamed like a five-year-old when I saw this little guy on the seat:
Alas, I might be too old for Acorn Cove, but my tolerance for bugs and creepy-crawly things will always remain at the preschool level. Oh well.
It was a fun little adventure. 🙂