Sunday, April 12, 2015

Weekend Drive

So far, we are enjoying taking some small trips in the new car. 
My wife and I have been waiting for a warm weekend just so we could get out of the house for a little while. Sunday we were afforded that opportunity as the wind subsided, the sky cleared, and the temperature ticked up a few more degrees. We had originally planned on driving somewhere to walk around for a bit but give our son’s fussiness as of late, we decided to drive down another exit on the turnpike for lunch.

During our explorations over the last few months of 2013, we had crisscrossed the turnpike around the Morgantown exit. During one of those trips we came across the Windmill Family Restaurant. While they aren’t going to win any awards for their fair, it remains an inexpensive place to stop for a good meal. Actually, their chicken corn chowder is what brought us back this time so I guess you could say that is an award worthy item.

It had been months since we last ate there and, obviously, the first time that we were bringing our son. When we walked through the doors this time I kept on thinking about how similar the feeling and décor was to some of the places I ate growing up. Ironically, I kept thinking about the places where we stopped (the names of which have long since been forgotten) when we drove down and back from the family reunion in Virginia. Some may call it old and outdated but I prefer to use the term authentically nostalgic.

Our son was surprisingly quite throughout the meal allowing my wife and I to enjoy the time out and catch up on some of the conversations that get overlooked during the course of our hectic week. With a quart of soup to go in hand, we got back in the car and turned away from the highway. With the moon roof open and the windows slightly cracked, we drove up and down the backroads moving generally in the direction of home. This weaving across the landscape was to enjoy the time out, get some fresh air, and allow our son to catch up on some much needed sleep.

About a half hour into our return trip, having not heard a sound from the back seat in a few minutes, I glanced in the rearview mirror to check on our son. There he was still sleeping… and so was my wife. So I continued driving, turning when the asphalt changed direction, until I found a road that would lead us back home. It was a quite drive but it was still time out with my family. Not a bad way to spend the afternoon.