I know most people go sightseeing, but we were seeking the sights. It had been foggy in the valley. We hoped to be above the mist on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Despite the long drive, made longer by going to a restaurant that was closed on Mondays, we could never pierce the fog. This was the first time the parkway failed us. We ate at the Pisgah Inn anyway, where the impenetrable fog gave us a white background. We concentrated on conversation and food rather than the view.
The waterfall was on display, though. Looking Glass Falls performed well. John parked down the road, and before Karen and Al climbed the steps from the base of the falls, he brought the car right up to the entrance. That’s service!
John knew how to get from Looking Glass to my favorite waterfall, the one closest to our house on Rt. 215. I never tire of standing there, and Karen and Al appreciated it verbally.
We made a quick stop in Ingles, our prize supermarket. Karen likes one flavor of house brand decaf coffee and wanted some to take back home. We poked about the store for a short while, surprising the fellows with our speed. We saw Al sitting on a bench outside the store. When I pointed my camera at him, he hurried to put out the cigar and rejoin us.
As I remember, a silent butler is a small container for removing ashes. I told Al we had our own silent butler when he quietly disposed of his cigar ashes. A few hours later we invited the neighbors over to meet our New York friends. They wanted to experience all the things I write about, and what better than a visit with our neighbors who are also wonderful friends? I was scurrying around getting the ice cream out, while Karen moved chairs and set the table. I didn’t hear the doorbell, but Al was right there to open the door and welcome them. We had do-it-yourself greetings before settling down for a real visit. I told Al he was performing an excellent job as our butler.