Each time we go back to DC, we marvel, how did we ever move away. WE LOVE DC!
Lucky us, we now have an incentive to return: our daughter and hubby, dogs Lemon and Dulcita, the cat Mew Mew, and 3 chickens, live in a quiet town just south of Washington, DC.
They rented a cottage-like home, which included acres and acres of property, ponds and pools of water. Beaver, frogs and who knows what else call this home. Gigantic trees, wild vines, bushes and dancing weeds rim the property. All quite charming, idyllic, old fashioned, nostalgic and a bit worn around the edges.
We decided to travel from NC to DC by train.
Daniel picked us up at the stately Union train station. After 9 + hours on the train, we were eager to see the whole family.
We pulled into the driveway, dogs barking "welcome," licking, racing all over wanting to show off their new "fields of freedom."
We weren't there long before something felt like it was watching us. Sheep/goat bleating caught our attention. Over the perimeter of their property was a really run down, derelict set of buildings and 20 or so goats.
They were our second welcoming committee. Cute and Curious.
Leaving the goats to entertain themselves, we headed for the white clapboard buildings scattered about the property. The dogs led the way, one building to the next.
Cute was a child's playhouse, roomy a wood storage, big garage for tractors and such, but the piece de resistance was the attached "green house." Oh, my, love the green house...yes I know, it does need a bit of tender care, but it is charming anyway.
This is where the mystery comes in.
Years ago, in early spring, a gardener was in the middle of potting her packets of seeds, and most likely dreaming of how beautiful and tall they would become, and obviously where they should be planted. She appeared to be quite content on a warmish spring day.
Suddenly she dropped her trowel, the tip of it knocking over seeds and egg shells, tripped on a rake carelessly left on the ground, over turned water buckets. She fled. Never to return.
A mystery for sure.
We don't know the ending.
Inside the building were long ago vacated hornet's nest.
Did the hornets flee at the same time as the gardener?
Will the mystery ever be solved. It is indeed a strange tale.
And so I leave you at this point in the story.
I will return to tell you about the chickens: Lucy, Mary Reed and Anne Bonny. Oh and maybe add a bit about Mew Mew who showed up on the doorstep at night, shivering, wet and cold.
One last thought. Just outside the green house is a deepish, slippery, frog filled pond.