The Simple Life
Once a year, in honor of my parent's anniversary, my mom and I take a day and go somewhere. We live close to the North Carolina mountains, so we generally head in that direction. Today's trip was no exception. Rather than heading for Black Mountain, Hendersonville or Asheville, we decided to venture north and west toward a little town called Highlands.
After journeying up some snaky roads, we wound up in a little town called Cashiers where we found a great little shop that sold Native American items such as jewelry and moccasins. More snaky road going up led us to the mountain resort town of Highlands. Everything in Highlands is neat, clean and geared to please the rich and those who wish they were rich. The streets are lined with exclusive art galleries, clothing stores, and gourmet restaurants. There are bed and breakfasts, spas and traditional inns. The air is clean and fresh, even in the hot summer months.
We had a pleasant afternoon perusing the shops and stores, found a few treasures, had lunch in a gourmet cafe and escaped the 15 minute downpour. One of the highlights of my afternoon was a visit to a little secondhand bookstore hidden behind some other shops. My daughters went into the shop ahead of me, and when I arrived, they had already found their ways to the children's book upstairs. The owner, a quiet woman in her mid-fifties was vacuuming the stairs. She asked if she could be of some help. I told I was looking for books on music. She sent me to a corner upstairs. When I arrived upstairs, I was greeted by my daughters who were already absorbed, my youngest reading children's books, my eldest petting the owner's dog.
My youngest greeted me with, "Mom, this lady lives up here. There's her bedroom." Sure enough, the door to the woman's bedroom was wide open. Much like the lady in one of our favorite children's books whose house was so full of books she finally turned it into a library, this lady had turned her house into a bookstore. It was charming, warm and friendly, and my children found it difficult to pull themselves away from it.
There is something to be said for the simple life. Finding what you like to do, what you are good at, and blessing the world with it. Before leaving the shop, I told the woman how pleasant everything seemed. She told me, "I love books, and though some of my favorites get sold, I get to have them around for a little while. " There are a lot of things to be learned from that statement, both positive and negative, but I will save that for another day.
After journeying up some snaky roads, we wound up in a little town called Cashiers where we found a great little shop that sold Native American items such as jewelry and moccasins. More snaky road going up led us to the mountain resort town of Highlands. Everything in Highlands is neat, clean and geared to please the rich and those who wish they were rich. The streets are lined with exclusive art galleries, clothing stores, and gourmet restaurants. There are bed and breakfasts, spas and traditional inns. The air is clean and fresh, even in the hot summer months.
We had a pleasant afternoon perusing the shops and stores, found a few treasures, had lunch in a gourmet cafe and escaped the 15 minute downpour. One of the highlights of my afternoon was a visit to a little secondhand bookstore hidden behind some other shops. My daughters went into the shop ahead of me, and when I arrived, they had already found their ways to the children's book upstairs. The owner, a quiet woman in her mid-fifties was vacuuming the stairs. She asked if she could be of some help. I told I was looking for books on music. She sent me to a corner upstairs. When I arrived upstairs, I was greeted by my daughters who were already absorbed, my youngest reading children's books, my eldest petting the owner's dog.
My youngest greeted me with, "Mom, this lady lives up here. There's her bedroom." Sure enough, the door to the woman's bedroom was wide open. Much like the lady in one of our favorite children's books whose house was so full of books she finally turned it into a library, this lady had turned her house into a bookstore. It was charming, warm and friendly, and my children found it difficult to pull themselves away from it.
There is something to be said for the simple life. Finding what you like to do, what you are good at, and blessing the world with it. Before leaving the shop, I told the woman how pleasant everything seemed. She told me, "I love books, and though some of my favorites get sold, I get to have them around for a little while. " There are a lot of things to be learned from that statement, both positive and negative, but I will save that for another day.
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