"Snake eyes..."

In preparation for this past week's round of severe weather here in Maryland, I went out on the elevated deck, stowed some furniture, dismantled the gas grill, turned it on its side to keep it low and lessen the tendency to blow around, and stowed all the bits and pieces inside.  Though many areas of Maryland had weather issues, fortunately things were ok here - well, except for some heavy rain.  

So, yesterday's project was to upright and reassemble the grill.

Much to my surprise, when I opened the top of the grill after putting it back upright, guess what was lurking inside?  A coiled-up, and turned-topsy-turvy (translation: rather uncomfortable-looking) 4-foot-long black snake, complete with beady, piercing eyes looking my way!  He was as genuinely surprised to see me, as I was to see him.  Needless to say, I had to figure out how to peaceably evict him and send him on his way.  I wouldn't hurt him, as black snakes keep rodents under control.  And that's a good thing, out here in the sticks, where I live.

With a goodly supply of mothballs and a lot of loud noise (yes, I admit, even a few four-letter words), I convinced him to start moving under his own power.   He slowly ambled out of the grill and dropped to the deck, then slithered away from me till about a third of his length was out over the edge of the deck (12 ft in the air, mind you).   At that point, just like Wile E Coyote in one of the many the Road Runner cartoons http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYcARiVEe1U, he learned about the effect of Newton's law of gravity.  PLOP!  Down he went, into a big black lump on the grass 12' below the deck...   From where I stood, this definitely was hilarious, but he most likely failed to see any humor whatsoever in it.

Surviving the fall, and now out of imminent danger, the snake skulked off into the woods behind the house.  What ever possessed him to climb 12 feet up on the deck in the first place is beyond me, but I'm glad he's relocated now.  He can live very comfortably in the forest right beside/behind the house...it's very close...as you can see from the following sunrise picture - less than 20 feet.   And black snakes have been said to be better mousers than a cat.  

A snake's paradise - just a few feet behind the house!  Taken from the deck.

A year ago, I recall chasing away what might have been his father - a 6 foot long black snake, twice his diameter - which liked to call my front entry a suitable sunning spot.  That made him the official "welcoming committee" for any summer guests - I'll never know how many folks turned around and left after seeing this happily sunning itself by the front door... 

 My welcoming committee of one...

I excavated and filled in some big voids under the driveway and sidewalk, one of which may have been its den, since it contained unidentified rubbery eggs.  Then I surrounded the house (and saturated the area) with mothballs.  Within two weeks, there was no more evidence of the snake or its family.  But, as if to take its place, a family of field mice set up housekeeping in the garage. It took till late last fall (and a lot of mousetraps baited with peanut butter) to finally eradicate them.  As their numbers thinned, I'll never know if perhaps "son of black snake" was helping chase them away,  and I didn't even know it.

Just recently I've begun sunning myself on the deck. Wearing the summery short pink sleeveless dress shown below (which the better half regularly tells me she hates, even just around the house), I lay on a blanket on the deck, to try tanning my pale arms and legs.

Needless to say, I plan to get some kind of a cot or lounge chair before going back out.   No more "on the deck" sunning sessions for this girl. I don't need surprised with a snake head popping up through gaps in the deck floor, right in front of my nose  While snakes don't particularly scare me, that would be quite unsettling,  for both the snake and me!

My Sunbathing Outfit

Today's project was to stop by my friendly local auto parts store to get some replacement wiper blades for my car.  

The male clerk "miss-identified me," which always makes my day.  I had grabbed the wrong blades off the shelf, so he went back to select the right ones.  Secretly not wanting to damage my nails, at check out, I asked if he'd put them on my car.  "Sure will, Miss.  It's something we always do for the ladies."   After he finished, I thanked him profusely for saving my nails, and assured him that I'll now be one of their customers.  He blushed and said "Thanks, Miss...you women always have such beautiful hands and nails, and we want to help them stay that way."

A wonderful gesture....and so do I!

Though summer is still officially not quite here yet, following is a local early September scene...sunflower fields, typically planted after the wheat harvest.   This was taken several years ago in the hills north of Baltimore, with thoughts of the forthcoming Autumn in mind.

September Maryland Sunflowers

Please enjoy...

On The Road Again, or, "My Weekend of Many Firsts."

Last weekend was wonderful!

In “Yesterday Was A Phenomenal day” (3/28/13), I described my visit to the MAC counter at a metropolitan area shopping center near Baltimore, and my very favorable encounter with the MAC rep.  Buying some foundation to try in the process, I ratcheted up the courage to ask – and thus find out - that she would be willing to do a full female makeup application for me, at a future date to be determined, and surprisingly, I didn't blush, or even feel self-conscious.

Subsequently, I visited her again, confirmed that she still wanted to do it, and we exchanged personal email addresses so she and I could agree on a mutually good date and time, once her July work schedule comes out in June.  She also gave me a sample of another MAC product to try, which hopefully would provide even better beard coverage.  And since then, we’ve each sent and received emails so we don’t end up caught in each other’s spam filters…

Friday, I drove the antique back to Virginia for another show (different town than last time, though.)  Since my trip was solo, I stopped in at Payless to see about another pair of heels…and found a pair of patent slingback wedges for a reasonable price ($11.00 on sale.)  Needless to say, I bought them.  

Then I drove to my seamstress’s shop, because I needed to get the hem on the pair of "hand-me-down" shorts taken up a bit.  I haven’t visited her for over a year, and she thought I’d disappeared.  But that girl is one of my biggest (and longest-time) supporters.  

She was surprised and thrilled to see me walk in wearing my new heels, capris and a blouse.  I changed into the shorts, and she pinned them up for hemming - an inch shorter than I had planned, but "You need to show more leg, sweetie."  And when she finished, I took them off, changing to a feminine outfit I’d brought, in her dressing room.  She loved it…and didn't hesitate to tell me how much more comfortable and attractive I look as a woman, than I ever did as a man! (My femme side takes that as a huge compliment...and a fabulous reason to dress.)   Plus, she was glad to see I’m finally getting out and about in skirts.  She gave me care info for my outfit,  had me model it for her, and then showed me some improvements she can make in my skirt's fit, including turning up the hem about 3 inches, because once again "You need to show more leg".  And she generously offered to take my picture.  “You look so much more attractive and comfortable as a woman, that you should be dressing like this all the time!  Now go enjoy your day, girlfriend.”  It's so nice that she is very supportive!

Once I left the safety of her shop,  I knew I was "stuck" (I don't particularly care for that term, but it  applies in this situation) in female mode for the rest of the day.  and it was time to ‘go potty.’ I was clearly dressed as a female, even though I'd changed to flats. (I didn't want to end up changing my name to ‘Grace’ due to tripping on my heels...)  So I headed for a local restaurant I knew had “one holer” restrooms.  Even in just flats, the staff addressed me as female my whole visit.  Accordingly, I used the women’s room, with no issue.  While I’m far from confident in my ability to consistently do that, it was a "baby step" forward.

When it finally was time to check into my motel, my outfit was a non-issue.  I was addressed as female.  Since they didn’t ask for my driver's license, my little secret remained safe…

After unloading the car, I set up the tripod to get a couple outside pictures of me in my skirt and new heels.  The gentleman in the next room apparently noticed, because his drapes were open.  Actually, I think his wife saw me – since she was facing the window.  He offered to take one for me, and ended up taking several, for which I thanked him, and we looked to make sure they turned out OK.  You judge for yourself…..

Took an inside picture, just for kicks.  And the light and flash sure changed the colors...

Before dinner, I applied new sample makeup the MAC rep provided, and went out for dinner wearing it.  Finally I was becoming more confident with this new product, which covered my beard pretty well. But apparently the waitstaff apparently wasn’t overly impressed…they simply omitted pronouns!  Bright side of that was – I didn’t hear the dreaded “S” word at all.  That’s always a good thing.

For the car show tomorrow, I’ve finally decided to wear a skort….along with some kind of a feminine top,  and a pair of sandals to show off my pedicure (still only silver, but "it is what it is.")  That should be a cool outfit for a hot day – expecting the low nineties.   I'm not exactly sure about how I’ll handle the restroom situation, but one thing is certain: I’ll have to deal with it at some point.  And I'll worry about it then...

Saturday morning, I decided to wear a short sleeve feminine knit blouse with my skort – a definite all-day-first for me at a car show - or anywhere.  I accessorized with clip-on earrings (ouch), a necklace (Mom’s) and a copper bracelet hand-made by my grandfather back In the 1940’s.  Wearing those items all day was also a major first for me, but hopefully I'll get lots of other chances. My lightweight blouse was lots thinner and cooler than the cotton sleeveless top I had originally planned, and I really enjoyed wearing it in public. 

My adventure began at breakfast.  The old geezer they had working the breakfast shift in the restaurant was “Mr. Personality.”  What a way to be in the morning – grumpy.  At least he omitted pronouns and didn’t call me “Sir,” which surprised me, as brusque as he was with everybody…. 

When I arrived at the show’s registration, I showed them the acknowledgement letter they sent me, addressed to "Ms. Sherman."  So I became “Ma’am.”  And many times during the day, I was addressed as “Miss” and referred to as “she.”  Such as “Wow, this car used to belong to her father…”  And the owners of the surrounding cars didn’t have any problems chatting with/sitting by me.  And though I wasn't wasting my time looking to see who stared at me, people walking by seemed to pay no more attention to me than they did to the woman I was sitting with, talking.  We both got "hi" and mutual pleasantries. So I guess momentum was in my favor.  And sitting there talking with a genetic girl is always helpful.

At lunch I visited one of the local bookstores which had a coffee bar and light pre-prepared foods, where I bought a light lunch.   When asked about a restroom, they directed me to the ladies’ room,  which fortunately was a “one-holer.”  Baby steps again, in that regard!

Since I prefer wearing skirts, I really should get a skort that looks like a skirt "all the way around", for future car shows (so I don’t have to worry about showing my undies when I clean the tires or wax lower edges of the car.)  But what would probably be even more fun than that, is a floaty sun dress or a long, gauzy summer skirt and a pair of strappy, skimpy sandals, like a lot of the other girls were wearing.  They looked so feminine and comfortable, gliding by and showing off their hot pink pedicures, that I truly was envious. Gotta put an outfit like that in my plan…

There was no surprise in "not" winning a trophy…this was not one of those shows where quality rises to the top.  There were 3 trophies in each class, but mine was a huge class of really, REALLY pretty cars.  It was crowded at "the top," since that's where we all were, quality-wise.  And the judges had their hands full.  (I’m just glad I didn’t have to judge!) 

But, as you might have already deduced, competition for a trophy wasn’t my motivation for attending…not in any way, shape or form.  To quote Rhett Butler in Gone With the Wind, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a d**n!"  By the time I arrived on the show field, I had already accomplished my weekend goal - namely, to attend my first car show en-femme.  Admittedly I'd chosen the show carefully, to minimize the risk of encountering people I know (only ran into one, whom I met at the previous Virginia show.  After seeing me at this one, he said he hopes "to see you at next year's show, Miss").   Something else I discovered was that I'd really enjoy wearing a dress to a car show, at some point.  I'm hopeful that I can make it happen sometime this year...but one never knows.

Afterward, another quick shower and shave (to wash the day's perspiration off), with re-application of makeup, then back to the restaurant for dinner.  Same waitstaff as the night before…and this time I was “sweetie” the whole time I was there.  That’s quite OK – particularly when you’re wearing a skirt and blouse!  But no pictures...   At the show, it wasn't convenient to set up the tripod or ask someone to take them for me.   And I certainly wasn't interested in asking the 2 twentysomething males who were also having dinner at the same time as me (and who seemed to be checking me out when they walked in), for obvious reasons.  I was crossing my fingers under the table and praying that they wouldn't ask if they could join me...  My prayers were answered: they didn't!

After dinner, I headed back to my room to wrap things up for the day and pack for departure in the morning.  I was planning to head back early, as the recently-rebuilt carburetor and choke had started acting up big-time.  You youngsters may not know about those finicky contraptions, since modern cars are all fuel-injected.  But trust me, they are an antique pain.

So, Sunday morning I decided to put on my most masculine outfit for the trip home, in case of car trouble, but discovered that I hadn't included any stirrup pants, just a clean pair of capri leggings and my skirts and blouses.   So, white pedal pusher leggings over nude pantyhose, solid red sleeveless blouse, and ballerinas comprised the "pants outfit" I'd wear home.  (Very comfortable, yes indeed! Masculine?  Not so much!)   I was on the way home by about 6AM.  This allowed me to be able to bypass DC on Interstates 95 and 495 before traffic became an issue...and I arrived home safely, even with a poorly-running car.  Now to get the car fixed, and figure out when the next car show will be...and where!

When I arrived home, I discovered that there was a cruise-in (informal car show with no trophies or awards) being held nearby.  That was fun for an hour or so, and I met a number of folks I know.    Those who knew me, knew my gender.  But several attendees didn't.  And while in conversations with friends, occasionally I would overhear a reference to "it's her car" from someone, with a point in my direction.  Nice to know the new makeup still works well...even after about 9-1/2 hours and a long car drive without air conditioning (which I left off intentionally.).

My biggest concern (beyond the restroom issue) is wearing heels.  I need lots more practice around the house before wearing either the wedges or heels out to dinner, or for the day.  But at the cruise-in, I watched a genetic girl managing a pair of wedges almost like mine.  She was a bit wobbly, too.  So perhaps that's normal, and I'm not far off track?

That's about all for now...I leave you with the following, which is a phrase we can hope none of us ever hear - from spouses, employers or friends:

Surprise! A new dental hygienist...

Today was my appointment for getting my teeth cleaned.

To set the scene for you, I wore capri pants over my pantyhose, a women's long polo tunic and my ballerinas.  I was wearing the last of the sample MAC makeup and my usual lipstick.  (Bear in mind, my given name is now used almost exclusively by girls.)  When I arrived, I found that the dental office has had a big personnel turnover.  None of the office staff, and none of the dental staff (except the dentist who owns the place) knows me as a guy.

The fun started when the receptionist asked my name, which I gave her, in my regular voice, which I softened just a bit.  "Let me get your records, Ms. Sherman."  Obviously, she didn't look up my gender, because, when she got them, she said "Ms Sherman, have a seat and we'll be calling you shortly."  I ducked into the ladies' room, and when I got out, the receptionist saw me and said "Oh, Miss (insert my real first name here) we're ready for you."  She got me seated and told me Ms. (insert new hygienist's name here) will be in shortly.  Within a couple of minutes the hygienist entered, and introduced herself.

The cleaning was quite routine, but I noticed she was dabbing at water splashes around my mouth to dry them, rather than wiping, as the old (male) hygienist used to do.  I thanked her for doing it that way.  She said she was being as careful as possible of my makeup - she didn't want to mess it up.  After she was done, she dabbed off the enamel polishing abrasive bits from my lips but said "You're going to need to reapply your lipstick, sweetie.  After cleaning you up, there's not much left!"  I told her "No problem...when I get back in the car, I'll reapply it.  Thanks for saving my makeup, though - it's more work to get it fixed right, when I'm not at home."  Her reply was "I totally agree with you, Miss (insert my real first name here).  You might want to wear long-lasting lipstick, though.  Girls who wear it don't lose their lipstick when I clean them up."  "Great suggestion, thanks!"  "OK,  Miss  (insert my real first name here), you can go out to the counter and I'll bring your file in a minute.

And the girls at the desk also addressed me as Miss.   I guess people generally treat you as the gender they can see...even if the voice is a bit "off." And, it's wonderful to not hear the dreaded "Sir"!

"Some days you get the bear, some days the bear gets you..."

The better half and I had occasion to be traveling by car recently, in the heat of a Pennsylvania spring.  We knew it would be hot from the weather forecast, and Mother Nature made sure to keep the car thermometer in the low 90's each day, once our cooler "introductory day" was over.

The better half still is having problems adjusting to some serious medical issues which befell her back in February, and it's taking a long time, plus frequent doctor visits.  Things have only very slowly been improving, and she has lost some weight.  These issues have sidelined progress toward what at-that-time seemed to be leading into wearing skirts. Because of her medical situation, I haven't pursued the matter.  Right now, it's impossible to predict when, or even if, progress will resume.  

However, because my wardrobe now consists exclusively of stirrup pants, capris, pantyhose, ballerinas, sandals, womens' tops and blouses, and nothing else, there has been no problem with my wearing them.  To banquets, parties, social activities, going out with friends, shopping, etc.  The better half's medical problems didn't seem to "rock that particular boat."

For the first and second days of our most recent excursion,  I wore everyday outfits - my stirrups, with polo top, pantyhose and ballerinas, along with my now-normal light makeup.   These caused a few "miss-identifications," but the better half seemed fairly comfortable with that - or at least nothing was said.  The most common reaction from civilians was to omit pronouns completely when referring to either of us.

Given summerlike weather, my stirrups turned out to be uncomfortably warm.  So, the third day, I started pulling on capris, my "summer pants" of choice, since my shorts had all been donated to charity some time back.  The better half shook her head "No" and tossed me a pair of her old shorts, which she explained no longer fit her, but should be ideal for me.   She apparently liked what she saw when I put them on, as they became mine.  And they were much cooler than capris, even though I was wearing pantyhose.

However, the leg openings are much bigger than I'm used to.  And whenever I sit, they ride way up, to provide a "thigh show" and occasionally expose bits of the dark reinforced panty of my pantyhose.  In the car, only the better half (and any passing truckers) can see my thighs (or the tops of my pantyhose), so it's not an issue.  But after a couple of her timely reminders outside the car, I started to pay attention to whether the problem has occurred. When it does,  I discreetly tug at the appropriate hem (sort of like a girl managing her skirt).  In any case, wearing shorts again on hot days is a treat - made even better because they're hand-me-downs from the better half.  For me, the comfort is certainly worth tolerating occasional hemline readjustments.

One of our stops that day was for lunch, at the Pine Creek Inn on route 6 in Galeton PA...out there in the middle of nowhere...and we enjoyed the rustic decor, as well as the food.  Yogi (the stuffed brown bear beside me) and I immediately became good friends...he stood guard while we enjoyed our meal.  The bright spots were that he was exceptionally quiet, and he wasn't hungry...so I didn't have to buy him lunch for his effort. And the better half borrowed my camera, for a quick grab shot on the way out. 

Some days you get the bear, some days the bear gets you...

Lastly, for those of you who enjoy full size antique or historic trains, here's another one for you!

Restored NYC Hickory Creek observation car, from 20th Century Ltd, on Amtrak at Albany, NY

This beautifully-restored 1940's deluxe passenger car was found bringing up the rear of one of the Niagara Falls-to-NYC Empire Service trains last January.  I was not fortunate enough to be riding on board the Hickory Creek, but it certainly classes up any train to which it is attached!

Virginia Is For Lovers...and historians!

It seems like it may be a while between blogs...but nowadays, when I write, it's long-winded.  I'll apologize in advance for that!   So, anyhoo...grab the beverage of your choice and settle down for some reading...

At long last, it was time for Mandy to visit again…and also to exercise the antique car.  Off I went, in androgynous mode, to an out-of-town solo car show weekend, with Mandy’s clothes in the trunk.  Unfortunately I was off to a late start, which affected how much sightseeing I would get to do that day.

Enroute was a quick stop for lunch at a fast food restaurant (have stopped there before), with a one-occupant restroom, where Mandy exited in a skirt and blouse, as in the picture, with refreshed makeup.  Then it was on into Winchester, VA for some sightseeing.  First stop on my agenda was the Moore house, a Gothic Hudson River Revival Style dwelling originally built in 1854, which Confederate General Thomas (Stonewall) Jackson was invited to call headquarters from November of 1861to March of1862, by Mr. Moore, the then-current owner.  After that, General Jackson left Winchester to begin his well-known Valley Campaign.

Mandy at Stonewall Jackson's headquarters in Winchester

 

The name Moore may ring a bell for those of you who are old enough to remember Mary Tyler Moore – as in the Mary Tyler Moore Show on the telly, years ago.  The docent mentioned that Mr. Moore was one of her ancestors.  And when restoration of the Moore house was under way, Ms. Moore paid for the remanufacture of the wall paper found in the study. 

 

The day of my visit, the Confederate flag was at half staff… it turns out they were celebrating the recent 150^th anniversary of Jackson’s death.   I was the only visitor at that moment, so I was treated to a fabulous "personal" guided tour, and found it fascinating to learn all about the man and his history.

Mandy visiting the childhood home of Patsy Cline, who lived there from age 16 (about 1948) to 21 (about 1953.)

Afterward, I went directly to the house where Patsy Cline - born Virginia (Ginny) Patterson Hensley in 1932 - lived from age 16 to about 21, hoping to get there before it closed.  But unfortunately, with the late start, my timing was off - the last tour was finishing up as I arrived.   Thus, I had to settle for taking some pictures.  But I vowed to return again…"maybe even tomorrow!" 

Former G & M Music Shop, where Patsy made some recordings.  Property is now part of the Grace Lutheran Church.

Handley Regional Library, old town Winchester...

Next, I detoured to the pedestrian mall in Old Town, parked the car, and walked around, even as rain threatened.  A fascinating place to visit, with outside cafes, shops, etc. Next visit, I'd like to spend more time here, and perhaps if I'm feeling adventurous, try out one of the sidewalk cafe restaurants for dinner!  Enroute back to the car, I walked past some  colonial buildings (now law offices, et cetera), and couldn't miss the fabulous Handley Regional Library Building, built in spectacular Beaux Arts style.  The story behind it:  Judge John Handley of Scranton, Pennsylvania made his fortune in coal investments, and developed a relationship with Winchester and its Scotch-Irish heritage. In 1895 he donated a sum of money for construction of a library "for the free use of the people of the city of Winchester." Designed by J. Stewart Barney and Henry Otis Chapman of New York, work began in 1908 and was completed in 1913.  The library was a model for its time.  And it is still truly spectacular, with its "green" copper dome and roof.

Rain began to fall as I was about a half block from my car, so I didn’t get too drenched.  But that was my clue to head for the motel to check in.   And the process was absolutely a non-issue in my skirt and blouse… they asked for my ID, so they ‘knew the score” and just chose to ignore pronouns completely.  Once settled in, it was time to shave and reapply my makeup for dinner…

By the time I was done and back on the road,  clouds which had been building since I arrived at the motel finally opened up - the rain came down fast and heavy.  Crowds everywhere were taking all the close-to-the-door parking places at nicer restaurants (it turned out to be graduation weekend at one of the local colleges), and it was dark enough from the clouds that you could see folks inside waiting.  I finally elected to settle for a fast-food-drive-through-burger.  It was still raining (but a bit less intensely) when I got back to the room with my delicious (?) dinner.  What a disappointment!  However, I was too hungry to wait till later to eat, and - what if the rain was still falling at that point in time?

Former B & O Passenger Station, Kent St., Winchester VA...

Saturday found me in capri pants, a sleeveless top and flats, which I wore to the car show.  I took a few minutes before the show, to locate the former Baltimore and Ohio railroad station in town. (These trips usually involve some sort of railroad theme, somewhere along the line!) While the Winchester station still exists, there are no passenger trains in town, so it's used by the railroad as office and storage space.

There was off-and-on drizzle at the show all morning, then the sun came out after lunch.  However, as the temperature rose, cumulus clouds started building in the humid air, and looking rather ominous.  Show sponsors ended the festivities a bit ahead of schedule, due to the likelihood of impending rain.  Since I had the chance, I headed back to the room to shave and reapply makeup.  Enroute, the heavens opened up again, though only for about 5 minutes, ending before I reached the motel driveway.  

 

Gaunt Drug Store,  where Patsy Cline worked as a  teenager, making soda treats for her customers.

At the motel, Mandy re-appeared, as I changed back into a skirt and blouse for another try at getting into the Patsy Cline house.  This time, my attempt was successful, but just barely.  The final tour of the day had started a few minutes before my arrival.  The docent took pity on the lady in the old blue car, who arrived late!  He mentioned that he recognized me from my photographic adventures yesterday (how could he have missed me, with the tripod set up out front?)   That apparently was his motivation in letting me join.   So, I got my tour, along with about 8 other folks (mostly women) of middle age.  I was the oldest one there…and was able to get the senior discount…a big advantage to being retired!

He really enjoyed his job, telling us about the house, which started out as a 2 room log cabin, and was added on to over the years.  The visitors all enjoyed the part about his being alone in the house, and hearing noises, including footsteps and interior room doors actually slamming shut on their own – could it be paranormal activity?   

It was interesting to see where and how the family lived at that point in Patsy's life, and to hear some of the stories he was able to relate.  And since I got there late, he stayed a few minutes after the tour to cover the points I missed before I arrived.  If you ever get to town, you might want to check it out…even if you're not a Patsy Cline fan, it's well worth the visit, just for the period furnishings and nostalgia about life in that era.

Afterward, he helped me with directions to locate Gaunt’s Drug Store, where Patsy worked as a teenager, making soda treats for her customers at the fountain.  While the drug store was closed for the day when I arrived, the docent at the Patsy Cline mentioned that the soda fountain was still there, unused, because it had become part of a closed-off storeroom due to a remodeling project. 

Then it was off to dinner, which was actually at a real restaurant this time.  When I present as a woman, I always enjoy being treated as one (even though I know I often don’t pass well), and the server did a great job.  Which resulted in a big tip for her…hope that's an incentive to give the next girl she serves, good service, too!

 Girls in skirts sometimes have to clean cars, too!

Then I went back to my room, to return to androgynous mode so I could listen in on the awards presentation at a nearby hotel, and discover if my car earned a trophy… 

Before I left, and while I was dusting off the car, I noticed nearby male voices out in the parking lot.  Turned out it was a group of clean-cut-looking motorcyclists, all who knew each other and were guests at the motel, sitting out on the sidewalk relaxing after their day on the road.  A few minutes later, when I emerged from my room, to get into the car, they addressed me as “Ma’am,” apologized for the noise, and asked me questions about the car, which I answered, but quickly, as I had to get going.  I guess they were more interested in the car, than in me…that's a good thing.

 At the end of the rainbow...in this case, was a trophy!

And, finally with no rain falling, I turned the corner in the motel parking lot.  And there it was, a beautiful rainbow...one of the brightest I’ve seen in years.  By the time I stopped the car, grabbed the camera and started taking pix, it had begun to fade, but it truly was beautiful.  The pictures I took really don't do it justice...

Incidentally, yes, the car received a trophy that night, which now joins the others on display…

Radio Station WiNC in Winchester, in whose studios Patsy Cline made her first radio appearance, and where she performed many times.   Mandy's car is in front...

On the road for home the next morning, I made a short stop at radio station WINC, the station on which Patsy made her first radio appearance, as well as many subsequent performances.  Somehow, I think it's changed its appearance a lot since then, but at least the station is still around... 

Now for a little observation - something about myself that I’ve noticed from this trip (and I suspect it may be a big plus for Mandy, going forward.) 

I've finally progressed to where I can wander out amongst the public, with my legs on display in a skirt, nylons and flats, and actually be concentrating on whatever it is that I’m doing –  instead of on what I’m wearing and staring into store windows at my own reflection,  That’s a refreshingly new attribute, and one that has sorely needed, to look a bit more like "just a girl out-and-about."

Women often seem friendlier (with smiles and occasionally light chat) when I’m in a skirt, blouse and flats, than even when I’m in stirrup pants and a top.  Maybe I’m “passing” more often than I think I am (which I realize is extremely doubtful).  Or,  because I’m in a skirt, the ladies don’t feel threatened, and just accept me as “one of them,” while men mostly ignore me.  I tend to think it’s more likely the latter…

This summer should be a real treat, as I’m planning several more opportunities to be wearing skirts.

Many things going on, but not much to say...

Life has once again gotten in the way of blogging, and of taking pictures.  Stuff happens.  This will just let you know that I'm still alive and well, if not a prolific writer!  Hopefully May will treat us better than April has...

My most exciting development happened about 8:30 AM a couple of weeks ago.   I was working on one of our cars in the driveway.  A group of about 5 ladies from the development, out for their morning walk, passed by.  We chatted briefly.  Their response to my comment that "everyone's out early for your morning walk" was "Everyone except you - why don't you join us." I thanked them and said if I could get moving early every morning, I'd like to.

But I haven't seen them again, to find out where they gather each morning, and how often...it might be fun.  Since the better half isn't an early bird, she won't mind...as long as I walk with her later in the day.  Which I would...

A quick shot of my acrylic nails...

From my archives, more "ferroequinology"... for those who enjoy geared steam locomotives in operation.   Cass Scenic Railroad, 8/23/93. Smell that delicious coal smoke in the summer heat!

And for those not accustomed to seeing nighttime pictures of Washington, DC:

These two were taken in March of 2007, on an after-dark tour of the city, well before the earthquake which caused those much-publicized cracks in the Washington Monument and other historic buildings.  A half-moon and many reflections allude to the the night's quiet stillness, while still showing the 24/7 beauty of our nation's capital.

Till next time, enjoy!

Heels, Easter, and Old Trains

When I finished my last photo session, it seemed that several photos were missing, and I chalked it up to "operator failure" in handling the transfer from camera to computer.   But the camera simply put them into a new directory, for some unknown reason!  And that's where I found them...still hidden in my camera.  It was of my new Charity Shop outfit with my new heels.  I'm not sure why the directory they were stored in changed, but at least I found them! 

So, I decided to post them today.  Anyone care to comment whether my shirttail looks better tucked in with this skirt, or should it be left untucked?  And what do you think?  Is this a suitable outfit to wear in public?

Last Thursday I stopped at my nail salon to make my appointment for a fill this coming Thursday (I'll get my hair colored then;  I do both salons the same day.)  And I drop in to make my appointments, because the girl who answers the phone has a very thick foreign accent, and I prefer to know it's in the book - for the right time and on the right day. 


Daggonit, wearing heels is a really great feeling.   I think I'm getting hooked on them!

I needed to get some real-world walking practice, since they felt OK the other night when I wore them inside, during the better half's absence because of a planned-for-months hen party. But I obviously couldn't walk very far in them inside the house, and I wasn't ready to risk walking in the basement, where I would have been able go around the stairwell, in a big circle.  If she got home early, I wouldn't be able to hear her till it was too late.  So I put them in the car, and parked about as far from the nail salon as I could, requiring me to "hoof it" in my new heels, maybe a quarter mile.

Clicking along in my heels,  I crossed the almost-empty parking lot (the good news, nobody was  around - the bad news, if someone had arrived, I was definitely stuck out in the open!  Nobody drove in.)  When I opened the door at the salon, the girl was doing a pedicure on a female, but she looked up, saw me (in my heels), and gave me a big smile.  She walked over, got out the appointment book for me, put it on the counter, and looked down at my shoes...   "Pretty heels, Ma'am..."  "Thanks!  I'll see you Thursday!"  "OK, Ma'am."  She knew, but played along.  Then I began the hike back to my car, once again enjoying the new angle my heels forced on my feet, and the sexy clicking sound I was making.  If I were a guy, I'd have turned around to look! 

As I walked back to the car, this time past some store fronts, I noticed that my feet were pushing more toward the front of the shoes, leaving a bit of space behind the heel, which was slightly visible in the store windows as I went by.  I have heel pads to put in, but it just seems like the smooth hose inside the smooth shoes were causing excess slippage.  (The next size smaller, and even smaller plus wider, were both too tight - I tried them.)  I may get those cushions to put on the insole, to minimize my hose slipping, before I even add the pads to the heels.  If it doesn't work, those cute but inexpensive heels may be suitable only for short distances like dinner out,  or for wearing without hose.  But they sure feel nice and look great!

On Easter Sunday, I actually went forward with my plan to wear one of Mom's stirrup outfits and her necklace to visit her at the Nursing Home.  As usual, she was glad to see me, and thought I had dressed up very appropriately for Easter, including my "patent leather flats."  I thanked her, but commented that since I was wearing one of her outfits, the good taste was actually hers. We both had a fun time with that!

Unfortunately, she didn't recognize her old necklace, but thought it looked very nice.  Her only concern was that the nurses would think I was a girl.  I assured her that wasn't going to be the case...and the subject got changed.  (I just omitted telling her that some of the residents already think I'm a girl!)

Eventually our visit ended, and I left.  On the way home (a half hour drive), I took back roads (WAY back roads - saw no cars on the way), so I stopped to try to get a couple of pictures of my Easter outfit.  Two problems:  the wind had picked up - what a surprise!  (It's been windy here almost every day.)  Thirty MPH wind totally destroyed my hairdo in just a few seconds.  And, I don't know where all the cars on this back road came from.  I saw nothing in either direction for a 5 full minutes when I was actually moving.  But within 30 seconds of when I had stopped, gotten out, propped my camera on the trunk lid and walked into the first picture, the parade of cars began.   In this picture, traffic was coming from the opposite direction, but a few minutes later, the direction was reversed!

I was truly flattered by the number of driver that stopped to ask "Is everything all right, Ma'am?"  Five cars, some in each direction, in the first two minutes.  By that time I figured it was hopeless, with my destroyed hairdo and the heavy traffic on this narrow road.  Of course, I thanked everyone who stopped, and in my best femme voice (none too good) told them that everything was all right - always good to be polite!   And as the last car pulled away, I got in mine and moved on...


Now for a taste of something totally unrelated to skirts, dresses and heels...    

The location:  Aberdeen, MD on the Pennsylvania Railroad (now Amtrak) Northeast Corridor.  The locomotive looks like southbound former PRR/Penn Central 4866, making short work of a passenger train.  The date - I really don't know for sure.  Most likely it's from the winter of 1974, the only time I did a lot of train watching in that area (unfortunately I wasn't in dresses back then!)

And another rail oddity - a Turbo train in service.  This was taken in the early 90's in upstate New York...possibly Rochester.  Turbo trains were retired in the 1990's, and have been (or are in the process of being) scrapped. 

  
It really is OK for girls to like mechanical things, as well as the softer side of life!  But in retrospect, how I really do wish I could have ridden one of these antiques en femme...