trips to the farm are always too short. seven of us made the trek out to western virginia a couple weekends back, smushed all of our air mattresses together in one big old room, talked about boys and music and college and life and things, and things, and things until we fell asleep. we woke up and followed the drive all the way down to the river, right between the field and the mountains. erika dove in first, because she's erika, and the rest of us slowly edged our way into the water, right up to our waists, most of us. it was cold and probably one of the last times we could have stood the temperature. back to the barn, to the house, to the little town nearby, little clifton forge, a one-street mecca. we ate lunch and walked slowly slowly up the street and back the street, going into a clothing store and an antique shop and the art gallery, touching things with our hands, chatting and laughing and chatting and laughing. then dinner at becky's house, and every time sally is there too, plus the dogs, and a tiny kitten that we all chased around. it started to get windy and then it started to thunder and we could see the rain coming down the mountain so we packed up and moved inside and they fed all of us bbq and coleslaw and pickles and ice cream and emily told her stories. there's just something soothing and rejuvenating about a weekend with girls, you know? danielle creamed everybody in cards against humanity, and we drank cheap wine (thanks lauren!), and then one by one we drifted into bed until it was just me and sarah, even though we see each other more than anybody sees anybody else in that group, talking late late. in the morning we gorged ourselves on penny's (waffles and hot chocolate, yes please!) and cleaned and everyone had to be home really soon so we hugged and said how wonderful it had been and let's do it again soon and drive safe and i love you i love you i love you all.