Brief sketches, as promised:

The town is one street long and almost all of the buildings look as if they were built in a previous century.

The children’s clothing store in town is called “Sugarbritches.”

Mail is delivered by Land Rover.

Half an hour away are some of the most gorgeous Georgian colonial era homes I’ve ever seen, each still with massive tracts of land attached.

One of our neighbors is named William Luck (not William, not Mr. Luck, he is always addressed by his full nomenclature) and he is utterly incomprehensible – my parents have to lip read to try and make out his conversation – but he’s welcome to hunt on our land whenever he wants.

The local barbeque joint is called Smokin’ Eddy’s, and apparently it’s to die for.

Strangely enough there is also a Portuguese resteraunt in town (who’da thunk it?).

Driving through the woods, is a surreal experience because, as Peregrine pointed out, it genuinely looks like someone with a chainsaw is going to leap out at you at any moment.

There is a hyperactive neighbor boy who is a pathological exaggerator (he has played in the NFL, trained with the marines, runs forty miles each morning before breakfast, and parachuted out of an airplane because teenage girls were chasing him in a lust hazed frenzy.  Etc.).

It takes three people nearly a whole day to clear our lawn of leaves.

It’s the most lovely place you’ve ever seen.