Blues, BBQ, and Bargains With A Bestie in West Virginia
Lately I’ve been posting about shopping and styling from the bounty of thrift stores. Just last week, I visited Jessie, a longtime friend of mine who recently moved back to West Virginia. We had time to write and drink fancy coffee drinks at the local Daily Grind (my first peanut butter and chocolate blended iced coffee! May it not be my last!) while checking out the charm of Buckhannon, a small college town. And of course, we had to pop into the Goodwill (open ‘til 9! I was impressed).
That’s us, above, outside The Fashion Closet, a cool thrift and consignment store in nearby Elkins, WV. Elkins is home to The Brewstel, a microbrewery and hostel. Elkins is not only a college town but close to many of WV’s outdoor recreation (such as Seneca Rocks and Canaan Valley), so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that there’s a hostel there. The bar and rooftop garden weren’t open yet. But have no fear. Jessie and I refreshed ourselves at the nearby Jabberwock.
Elkins is also home to Davis and Elkins College, where Jessie and I ate barbecue while folks from the Augusta Heritage Center blues classes jammed on the Halliehurst mansion’s wraparound porch. A thunderstorm cracked open the sky, and we had the perfect vantage point, just above the leafy green hills with their foggy sashes.
I noticed a high Teva ratio (with or without socks) and someone selling a rack of Hawaiian shirts (really).
An older woman wore a red sequined fedora, the kind you might see at a new year’s eve party. A tall lanky teenaged guy in a broad-brimmed hat and dark socks halfway up his shins, played his guitar by himself, keeping his distance from the groups. Why did he play alone? Why did he wear those socks? This is America, after all. Guys under 60 don’t do that.
Jessie and I watched the storm move long as we listened to an accordion. A whitehaired woman tore up the keyboard on song after song as her seeing eye dog sat at her feet. I couldn’t help watching the lone, hatted kid out of the corner of my eye. If I were his age, I would be friends with that guy. But I’d be the girl in the corner, strumming my guitar with the group but so quietly only I could hear.3 comments