C is Juice Factor...

Well, for some people it's the 11th hour, but for me it's the 23rd. It's still Monday, barely.

This past weekend, our trip to the Mountains turned into a trip to Culpepper, or as Agnes, my old land-lady used to say, Cul-pep-pa. Not only did she have an accent, she remembered when her daddy and his dad used to sit out on the front porch and watch the people driving their horses or Model Ts on an old Indian Path into Fredericksburg. Wow.

So Clare and I had our first foray into downtown Culpepper this weekend, where we actually got out and walked the main drag. Apparently, we picked a good weekend for this trip, as the town was having their Christmas Open-House Kick Off or something like that, albeit one week before the traditional start time. I didn't complain too much, though, as segments of the evening's brass ensemble played Christmas tunes outside for shoppers and villagers alike. It was actually pretty classy.

And that's just it. Culpepper is now classy. Too classy? That's not for me to say, but I seem to remember a time when Culpepper was the po-dunk backwater of Northern Virginia, home of the slack-jawed and the snaggletoothed. Now it is something of a country retreat for the cultured and coiffured, a reality natives probably didn't much expect 1o years ago or so, but these are different times.

In fact, if you are misfortunate enough to find yourself even farther south in Charlottesville on 29 during rush hour, you know these are different times. At least an hour away from anywhere, Charlottesville, home of prestigious UVA and Monticello, causes sheer disbelief when the roads become clogged with automobiles galore.

Anyway, my point is the landscape of Virginia has changed massively. It's not all bad, particularly in Culpepper. For such a small, Old Town area, there's a bit of everything, though mostly of interest to Northern Virginia types. Foti, an off-shoot restaurant of the Inn at Little Washington, is in the heart of town. The Camaleer, a boutique with interesting imports from continents that start with the letter "a" is fun to peruse. And there's a passable coffee shop, a nifty looking, 50s style corner cafe, and a chic French culinary establishment.

So that was our weekend. I had actually wanted to visit Wolfton too, to find a new home for us and our dog, but apparently the town has exceeded its wolf-quota, so the door--there was only one--was politely but firmly closed and we were unable to buy there.

I think we are going to bide our time, then, and buy around Chi-town instead.

Over and out.

--Nick-Dog