Sunday afternoon THE BOSS loaded me, Small Red Horse, her sister Pat and Pat’s husband, Fish Hook, up in Godzilla and we went for a ride.
THE BOSS telling me, Fish Hook and Small Red Horse to get in, buckle up, shut up and hang on. She means it, too.
That’s THE BOSS’s sister, Pat, on the other side, hiding from the camera. I refer to these two, a pair of cradle robbers (for you youngsters that’s what we old geezers call cougars) originally from Ivanhoe, Virginia, as The Ivanhoe Wrecking Crew. I’m younger than THE BOSS and Fish Hook is younger than Pat. Our daughter Laura was inducted into the crew while she was still a toddler and is following in the sisters’ footsteps. Her boyfriend, John, is not only from Ivanhoe, he’s also younger than she is.
It was a gorgeous day, mild with a light breeze and perfect for a ride with the windows down and the fresh air streaming in. I love the way the cloud shadows march across the landscape.
Small Red Horse taking Fish Hook for a walk at the Fries dam. Sort of reminds me of the old Dick and Jane primers; Look, Hook. See the trees? Run, Hook, run! See Buddy pee.
Fries isn’t pronounced the way you’d think; like the potatoes you get at Mickey D’s. It’s pronounced freeze as in what will happen to your hind parts if you don’t dress warmly enough when Old Man Winter sends his icy breath howling down the river valley.
At one time there was a textile mill located just past the red brick building at left, above. That building was the power house for the mill. Fish Hook and his BOSS both worked there several years ago.
These old spill gates were used to control water flow from New River into the power house which produced electrical power for the old mill. The sign reads “DANGER DAM AHEAD”. The dam is about 6 feet past the corner of the wall.
The power house dam on New River at Fries, Virginia. I’ll have to go back to get a shot of the face of the dam because construction at the old mill site made access to that area, the best place to photograph the dam, impossible.
One of the reasons for this trip was to try and locate the grave site of one of Pat and Frankie’s relatives who passed away when they were young girls. They think they may have found it but a little more research into cemeteries in the Fries area and quite possibly a return will be needed to confirm their discovery.
There is a good possibility that I will suffer extreme physical violence for posting this photo.The only things preventing my doing so are fear and common sense. As you can see, I am not overburdened with either. It was quite breezy and Pat knew full well that I would have at least one camera with me (I had two and Fish Hook had one, as well). She should have followed her sister’s example and worn a hat.
Small Red Horse taking Fish Hook for a walk in the Methodist Cemetery.
Did I mention that it was a gorgeous day? As you can see, there is good reason for these old mountains to be known as the Blue Ridge.
Well, this isn’t getting the lawn mowed so time to get off the laptop and on the Dandelion Destroyer for a tour around the estate, all the while waving with one finger at the jerk across the street. The last time I mowed he sent his wife over to accuse me of shooting a rock out of the mower, putting a hole in the siding on the house. When I pointed out that I had mowed the entire yard with the finish mower, which is a mulching mower and does not have a discharge chute, she decided it must have been the kid next door.
If the jerk has anything to say this time he just might get hit with a rock……. a hand delivered rock………
…….THE BOSS won’t let me use her Wrist Rocket.
NOTE: this is not the real Dandelion Destroyer but a reasonable facsimile shamelessly cut and pasted from the web. I freely admit this blatant plagiarism, as well as the Wrist Rocket image, and will be available for punishment Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 9:00 to 11:00 AM Eastern Standard Time. Please bring your own whips and chains, wear thigh high spike heeled boots, leather bustier and feather boa……except for you, Joe. I’ve a feeling you look terrible in a boa.