Oh, you can TRY to go back, like we did when we revisited my late Grandpa and Grandma Britt's now-abandoned home.  It looks much the same...so many, many hours sitting on that porch visiting and sometimes snapping green beans. 

So many memories attached to this place, and yet when we go back it will never be the same.  It feels empty now, abandoned, dead inside.

Mama rescued the porch goose and took it home with us.  Mama had given it to Grandma Britt 30+ years ago, complete with aprons and bonnets (remember when everyone had a porch goose?!).  But long forgotten, the goose was still standing sentry on the porch.  Mama patted it on the head and asked, "Do you want to go home, pretty goose?" 

It must have answered, because it ended up in the back of our van and now resides on Mama's front porch.  She can't wait to give Mrs. Goose a scrubbing and make her a new wardrobe....

Some things never change.

I mean NEVER!

Dad has brought this leather shaving kit bag on every trip he's ever taken to North Carolina and elsewhere.  He's had it as long as I can remember, and Mama says he's had it as long as she can remember too. 

That puts it at around 60 years old.

But I think it's entering retirement, as I suspect this was Dad's last trip to North Carolina.  Let's just say that with his Alzheimer's progressing, he's not a good traveler.  Not. At. All....

Mt. Gilead, North Carolina is the small town near where my grandparents lived, several of my kinfolk live in or around town, and it's the site of the annual Britt reunion.

It's also the home of the Burger Shack.

Very much a local place where strangers get stared down when they enter the door, Mama likes to stop there for a snack when we're in the area.

Never eaten a burger there, but they do have some yummy ice cream treats.  And y'all KNOW how we can't turn down a yummy ice cream treat!  So, of course, even though none of us were hungry, we had to make a stop.

Their motto was perfect for our trip...

Just outside the Burger Shack, a local man was selling fresh strawberries off the tailgate of his rusty old pick-up truck.

Mama just HAD to buy a basket, about 2 quarts worth, for $10.  Now remember, we are staying in a motel with no kitchen.  She planned to take them to the reunion the next day.  But since you really can't just take a basket of unwashed berries, Barb volunteered to wash them, slice and sugar them in a bowl with a spoon to take.

There were just a few minor hurdles to this "simple" task.

We had no kitchen or utensils.  No knife.  No bowl.  No sugar.  No spoon.

No problem.  (?)  We went to the grocery store and spent another $10 to get what we needed.

And as Barb began going through the strawberries, she discovered that while the top layer looked fresh and beautiful, those berries underneath had been picked a few days and some were even growing furry beards.

Ugh.

Barb was not a happy camper, but she followed through and salvaged about half of the berries.

We figure we ended up paying about $20 for one quart, when all was said and done.

And I ended up with the job of scrubbing out the strawberry-stained white motel towel, lest we have to "purchase" it (as stated in the room information) for $15.  Which would have put our precious quart of strawberries at about $35.

Dad kept saying he was "swindled" at every restaurant we went to, but Mama was the one who was REALLY swindled when she bought those half-rotten strawberries from the man by Burger Shack...

Rooster-boy is a handsome fella and loves to crow, but I was smart enough not to get too close to a strange rooster with a glint in his eye and a couple of hens and some chicks close by.

I found out later that said rooster belongs to my cousin Dustin, and he's one flogging rooster if you cross his path. 

Few creatures I despise and fear more than a flogging rooster!

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...get out there and ENJOY it!