VA – The Monica Chronicles

September 12, 2016

I’m Not Really A Waitress, But I Can Fake It For A Night

50s-diner-waitress-clipart-1 Of all the different jobs I’ve had in my life, with tasks ranging from popping popcorn at a drive-in movie to loading fertilizer into cars, I’ve never waited tables, until last night. One of Greene County’s finer dining establishments, The Lafayette Inn in Stanardsville, provided our Woman’s Club the opportunity to wait tables for the evening as a way to raise money for our Scholarship Fund, donating a portion of the evening’s receipts as well as any tips we received for our efforts.

I have to admit, I was a bit anxious about stepping into the role. Although I’ve never been a waitress, I’ve eaten out enough to know the difference between a good one and a not so good one and the impact service can have on an overall dining experience. I desperately wanted to be a good one.

Going in, I knew that most of the diners would be people I knew, mostly family of our club membership, but wouldn’t you know it the couple at the first table assigned to me were total strangers. They just happened to be in Greene County antiquing for the day and thought they’d stop for a nice dinner and they got me as a server. No pressure there, to present a professional front while representing one of my favorite eateries!

Well, it didn’t turn out to be a stretch for me after all. As it turned out, they were a warm and friendly twosome so it wasn’t that difficult to greet them and serving them came as naturally as if they’d been guests in my own home. And because I’d sampled the menu as a diner on several occasions, I was able to offer my suggestions when asked and did my best to tend to their needs without hovering. I know my water pouring, serving and dish removal were not as smooth and elegant as I’d experienced at the Commander’s Palace in New Orleans (the epitome of fine service in my book), I did my best and managed not to spill anything or drop and break anything.

As an added bonus, I got to witness first-hand what happens behind the swinging door that separates the dining area from where all the magic happens. Honestly, I expected a much more hectic scene with shouting and pot banging than the quiet, well-oiled mechanics of food preparation, cooking and plating that I saw. It was obvious that although this was my debut in the restaurant business, for Alan and Kaye Pyles, the proprietors of the Lafayette Inn, it was just another Sunday dinner and the atmosphere behind the swinging door was almost as calm and relaxed as it was in the dining room, with the exception of us waitresses-for-the-night who most certainly took two to three steps for each one a veteran would have.

Dave and I had reservations for the last seating of the evening and by the time I sat down at 7:00 instead of being grateful to plop myself down, it took me a while to transition from waitress to diner, until the food arrived and I realized just how hungry I’d become. And, as always, the meal was wonderful and my server, my good friend Carol was outstanding!

So, my first adventure as a waitress went pretty well which is a good thing since I’ll be back in my black apron again next Sunday evening for a fundraising event for our parish’s Stop Hunger Now program. If you’d like to see me in action, make your reservations now, because last night we actually had to turn away a couple who walked in.

If you’d like more information about the Woman’s Club of Greene County and what we do, you can check out our webpage: www.vgreene.com/womansclub. We are always looking for new members (and donations to our Scholarship Fund which can be sent to: The Woman’s Club of Greene, PO Box 352, Stanardsville, VA 22973).

Information on Stop Hunger Now is available at: www.stophungernow.org.

And last, but not least, if you’d like to experience fine dining or even a getaway weekend at the foothills of the Blue Ridge, check out the Lafayette Inn at: www.thelafayette.com. Alan and Kaye really know what they’re doing and are just as gracious behind the swinging door and they are in the main foyer of the Inn. Thanks so much to both of you and your staff – you made it easy for us!

June 3, 2013

More Living Greene and Loving It

This peony has nothing to do with my subject, but it was so pretty this year, I had to share it!

This weekend I was again reminded why I love living in this small Central Virginian community so much. Greene County is a community. It’s small, but that’s what makes it so easy to jump right in and become a part of it, that and the extreme warmth and hospitality of the people who live here. All three days, Friday, Saturday and Sunday were chock filled with events and experiences that made me both proud and fortunate to have found a life here.

Early Friday morning, I met up with my friend Moira Rodriguez at William Monroe High School to present scholarships to two deserving young women in this year’s graduating class. Moira is currently the president of the Woman’s Club of Greene County and I had served on the scholarship selection committee. The Woman’s Club works hard all year holding an annual yard sale in the spring and Holiday Craft Fair in the fall to raise the funds necessary to support our scholarships and Christmas Gift program for needy children.

Moira and I both arrived at the high school a little after eight o’clock and after checking-in with the reception committee, we were escorted to the teacher’s lounge to wait with the other scholarship presenters. The room was overly warm and crowded with people representing a broad spectrum of our community. Naturally, the usual service organizations were represented (Lions and Kiwanis), there was a woman from the local chapter of the DAR, folks from the Farm Bureau and the electric co-op. There was a young Marine, straight and tall in his dress blue uniform and a one rather elderly woman, her back bent with time. He represented his corps, she was simply a private citizen, awarding a scholarship because she wanted to. And, she wasn’t alone. In fact, there were several scholarships awarded in remembrance of loved ones lost to battles in service to their country or with medical challenges. Whatever the reason, there were enough scholarship awards and recipients to fill the better part of two sides of a legal sized piece of paper – not bad for a class with members numbering just about two hundred.

We were introduced en-mass and marched into the gym where the entire lower classes sat in the bleachers to the right and family and friends of the senior class sat on the left. After we were seated behind the podium, the senior class marched into the gym in their cap and gowns. Most of the gals had decorated the tops of their miter boards to indicated the school they would be attending in the fall. Some. of the guys did the same, but not with as much oomph as the girls. Even though I really didn’t know any of them, I felt pride for them and their families as I recalled the years my young ones graduated, more than a few years ago.

One by one we took our turn walking up to the podium to present our awards. It was a very long ceremony. It seemed shorter to me because I chose to wear my “pretty” watch which was still set on daylight savings time. It wasn’t until I glanced at the clock on my dashboard that I realized I’d been there for just about three hours! In the end, I was glad my watch wasn’t right, it allowed me the luxury of not feeling rushed and let me savor the experience.

Early Saturday morning, I was headed down the same road, about the same time to Standardsville to work at the Greene County Habitat for Humanity booth at this year’s Strawberry Festival hosted by the Stanardsville Methodist Church. Once our tent was up under the shade of an old cherry tree on the Courthouse lawn, I spent the day inviting folks to take refuge from the hot sun in the shade of my tent and then coyly suggesting they might want to join our steering committee. Sadly I wasn’t able to convince anyone to complete one of the beautiful volunteer applications I’d prepared for the day, but we did manage to sell seven t-shirts and a small cash donation to fund our building fund – not much, but every little bit counts.

The best part of the day was simply being there, talking to the people. I spotted several folks I’d seen at the award ceremony the day before and realized that I’m beginning to recognize more and more faces wherever I go in the county; it’s a really nice feeling. People around here are always ready to pick up on a conversation, whether they know you or not. That works for me since I roll that way myself!

Sunday evening, our parish held a dinner to celebrate our pastor, Father Larry Mullaney’s twenty-fifth anniversary of his ordination. By five-thirty, the Hall was so full of folks that two additional tables had to be set up to accommodate everyone and the buffet tables were groaning under the weight of the dozens of pot-luck style side dishes, salads and deviled eggs. Anyone who walked away hungry only had themselves to blame.

All in all, it was a great weekend of community. These are just the few I attended. Early Saturday, while I was working the Strawberry Festival, Dave was handing out water at the first water station at the Wounded Warrior 5K Walk/Run through the UVA Research Park where his office is located. Simultaneously, Spring Hill Baptist Church was sponsoring a 6o mile bike ride fundraiser for Habitat for Humanity called The Tour d’Greene and the Boy Scouts were hosting a pancake breakfast at the Ruckersville Fire Station. For such a small place, there was a lot going on. You really have to work hard at not being a part of our community, and that’s the way I like it.

FOOTNOTE:

Friday evening, Dave and I checked out a new Mexican Restaurant that opened up next to the Shell Station on US29. El Monarca II (as in Monarch butterfly) is a small, family run eatery featuring better than average Mexican cuisine. I had the chicken with chorizo sausage and cheese on top. The platter came with beans, rice and a generous serving of steamed veggies. Our waitress also brought me a small dish of pickled cactus for me to sample. It was very yummy and reminded me of my grandmothers hot garlic spears. It’s definitely worth a try if you’re in the area and have a hankering for Mexican food!

May 14, 2013

Grace From a Fall

I love it when everyday life experiences provide surprise and insight to the big picture. Last week was chock full of those kinds of days.

BathroomCleanerWithColorPower

It all started last Monday when I decided I would organize my life by choosing one room a day and give it a thorough cleaning. Fully energized by my re-commitment to a clean home, I decided to tackle the master bathroom first. Although I do clean it regularly, I admit the shower stall and garden tub are often left for the “next time” since they don’t seem to pose as horrible a heath concern from going a couple extra weeks as the sink and toilet. Anyway, last Monday, after I got home from the gym, I pulled out the mat and tossed it into the washer with the throw rugs, sprayed the shower with Scrubbing Bubbles and climbed in (naked of course) with my cloth to finally tackle that soap scum.

My project was going well at first. I was happy to finally be cleaning the shower, because I do love it when it’s shiny, and I was proud of myself for making the adult choice to clean instead of plopping on the couch to knit and catch up on this week’s episode of Game of Thrones. Then, I felt my feet slip and with no mat to secure my footing or anything to grab on to, I went from vertical to horizontal in a nanosecond, landing out onto the tile floor, like a baby calf being delivered and dumped onto the ground, wet and naked. My head hit the floor pretty hard and my glasses were laying next to me, bent in an awkward contortion.

I lay there for a few moments, taking in the whole scenario. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. Slowly I got back onto my feet, taking inventory of my aches and pains. My head was my main concern, my brow ridge bore the brunt of impact, but remarkably there were no cuts or even visible bruise. I leaned forward over the vanity to get a better look in the mirror, checking my pupils. I did receive an impressive bruise on my thigh where it landed on the shower door track but all in all, I escaped with minimal damage. Reassuring myself I wasn’t critically wounded I got dressed and decided that sitting on the couch was a good idea after all.

As I relived my mishap and routinely checked my pupils, still worried about a potential slow bleed in my brain (had to worry about something), I realized that I had received a powerful reminder from God; that life can change in the blink of an eye. I don’t think I’ll ever clean the shower naked again.

My next revelation came on Thursday when I went in for my annual physical. I am always just a tad nervous about these exams, similar to how I feel when I take my 2000 CRV in for its annual safety inspection. We are both “used” vehicles and despite how good care we are given, you never know what will be found when the hood is popped open! My blood work was excellent as was my muscle tone, etc. The one noteworthy change in my status was that my height was measured a full inch and a half TALLER than ever before in my life! How that happens, I couldn’t tell you, the doctor theorized that perhaps my time in the gym has paid off with improved posture. Maybe I stretched myself when I was flung out of the shower. It’s a mystery. But, for whatever reason, I am taller and feeling ever so lithe at my alleged five foot three!

My last day of revelations was Sunday, Mother’s Day. Dave and I had no plans for the day until we got to church and a friend mentioned that a local artist, Fred Nichols, was holding an open house in his studio in Barboursville that afternoon. It was a glorious day, sunny and bright, but still cool and spring-like and taking a short drive to look at art seemed like the perfect ticket.

The studio tour was fascinating. Mrs. Nichols took us on a tour of the silk-screening workshop and described all the steps in creating the beautiful prints hanging in the gallery. Some go through the printing process over forty times and can take as long as a year before they are complete. I would have liked to have taken one home with us, but the prices were out of our league. After the tour, she invited us to head up the street to their gallery to view works by other artists and enjoy a cup of coffee. So we did.

It was our first time to actually drive into Barboursville. You can’t really see it from the highway because they moved the highway a few hundred yards north sometime back to bypass the railroad crossing. It’s really a shame because what remains of the original town is charming. Located at the intersection of old US Routes 33 and 20, Barboursville lies between James Madison’s Montpelier and Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello. On the grounds of the nearby Barboursville Winery are the ruins of Governor James Barbour’s mansion, which burned on Christmas Day, 1884, seventy years after its construction. All three of these homes were designed by Thomas Jefferson. With the aroma of boxwoods heavy in the air, it just plain smells historic!

The gallery was in an old building that was originally a hotel. And, although the walls were hung with the works of very talented artists, which drew Dave’s attention, my eyes were drawn to the architecture of the building, checking the woodwork, moldings and floors for continuity and looking for changes in the plaster indicating a previous window or doorway. I checked the view from the windows, to get an idea what could have been seen from them a hundred years ago or more. Buildings like that seem to have their own stories to tell and no matter what you hang on the walls, the story will speak over them, to me at least.

This is all that remains of Governor James Barbour's beautiful home following the fire in 1884 — This is all that remains of Governor James Barbour’s beautiful home following the fire in 1884

After our gallery tour we took a quick drive over to the ruins. At first I wondered why someone would leave the walls of a burned out home left standing. It just seemed odd and hazardous. Then I saw them. Thomas Jefferson’s hand in the design was obvious from the octagonal front hall reminiscent of Monticello as were the two-story wings at either end allowing for a grand ceiling and staircase in that room. Even though it is only a skeleton of its past grandeur, the Barbour home still had its story to tell.

We walked the full circumference of the house and took advantage of the spectacular view across the vineyards and off to the mountains. It was all so quiet and peaceful.

Then, a bird song followed by a flash of color caught my attention. And there, atop an ancient Thuja, stood a Baltimore Oriole and from the racket he was creating, there must have been a nest nearby. What a treat! I can’t even begin to remember the last time I saw an oriole.

After our tour of the ruins, Dave took me on a proper Sunday drive through the country, taking the byways to see what else we could discover along the way. It was just another adventure in our lifelong journey together and it was (and is) marvelous.

Okay, so I’ve taken a long trip through last week and you’ve got to be wondering just what my great epiphany was from these three completely different experience. To be honest, I didn’t really know myself until a few moments ago, I just knew there had to be something.

The way I see it, it all boils down to this. Life can change in the blink of an eye (or fall to the floor), and even if you don’t find yourself flat on your face, something else you discover about yourself, no matter how insignificant, can change how you see yourself. Lastly, it’s important to have a companion to share adventures with. Even if you don’t enjoy the same things, enjoying different things in the same place can be just as good.

It was a good week and I’m actually sort of happy to catch sight of my bruise now and then because it reminds me of just how good a week it was, despite its awkward beginning.

July 6, 2012

Fourth of July – Smalltown America Celebrates

As Fourth of July celebrations go, ours was pretty special this year. It had been a tough week for the citizens of Greene County. Last Friday night’s wind storm caused so much damage to the electrical grid that many didn’t have power by Wednesday and according to this morning’s news, are still without power today. This past week has been dangerously hot and for many of the folks living out in the “hollers” no power means no water as well.

Independence Day was fore-casted to be another hot one, with temperatures climbing close to 100 degrees. Despite the heat, both sides of the parade route in downtown Standardsville were lined with celebrators dressed in red, white and blue.

The parade was modest; consisting mostly of local fire and rescue squads, the sheriff’s office, service groups like the scouts and Ruritan, antique cars and tractors and an assortment of “Misses'” riding in convertibles. Most “floats” tossed candy out to the little ones lining the curbs while one smart group offered popsicles and I gladly accepted! Sadly there were no bands. I spoke to Donna Richardson, one of the parade organizers and she said they’re working on it for next year.

Following the parade, the crowd was invited to join the VFW on the Greene County courthouse lawn for the raising of the flag and pledge. There, on the tiny lawn lined by a white picket fence decorated with red, white and blue bunting, the festivities continued. Both political parties had booths offering refreshment; the Republicans handed out slices of watermelon while the Democrats offered cold bottles of water along with their various bumper stickers, lawn signs and other campaign paraphernalia for the November election. A portable stage sat at the far edge where the Green County Singers entertained the crowd with a selection of patriotic songs including a medley of the armed service hymns. I have to admit that I still get goose bumps when I hear “Anchors Aweigh!”

The festivities concluded with the ringing of the courthouse bells. It was a loud, deep bell, that I’m certain has been atop that building for more than one hundred and fifty years. As it rang out, those who were veterans of these celebrations rang hand bells they’d brought with them. Daytime fireworks were shot off from the back field as the bells rang. The bells and the booms were a wonderful reminder of the freedom we enjoy was Americans, the unity we feel in pride of our nation whatever our political beliefs and the cost of that freedom. Yes, it was a modest celebration, but so very rich in the essence of American tradition. Being there and experiencing this simple grassroots event was so very special. I can’t wait for next year!