This is a gingerbread house. It’s on display at a local historic hotel. It is fashioned after a real life Victorian in town.

My cousins were at the hotel the other night and met the owners of the real life house. They hit it off and have been invited to go tour the house today. And I get to go. Because…

It turns out, I know the owners. The wife was in my aunt’s wedding. The wife’s parents used to live in my grandparent’s house before they bought it. The father was my mom’s school teacher. I grew up calling them Uncle Ken and Aunt Lucy.

Now, here’s where it really gets weird. My first husband’s mother was Uncle Ken’s sister! So, to my first husband, they really WERE Uncle Ken and Aunt Lucy.

Hey…it’s West Virginia. We all either know each other or we’re related somehow. It’s spooky.

I’ve been back in town since Wednesday but still haven’t been home. I stayed with cousins three nights and a girlfriend last night. I’ve had lunch out with cousins, dinners out with friends, been to the mall three times, the dreaded DMV three times (STILL no driver’s license but have my plates for the truck and camper now!), the Social Security office three times, got the truck inspected, and went to the bank twice. I had all these errands that needed doing and it doesn’t make sense to run back and forth and use up all that gas when I can stay in town and get it all done. I’ll go out to the farm this afternoon after the home tour. It’s been a whirlwind three weeks and I’m ready for a little down time.

❤