I got back from my former teacher's house/country store very happy that I decided to make the trip. I didn't see much of Mr. J---, but his wife was very nice and, what's more, she actually remembered me! She is an incredible woman. I've never met a person who makes homemade bread from fresh-ground flour or weaves rugs from homemade wool thread. She demonstrated how to make a rug out of old rags. Talk about self-sufficient. She also home-schools eight children. Everything in the shop was handmade and very pretty, and so I bought about ten dollars worth of stuff. Overall, it was a memorable trip. Like I've said in my previous posts, I think there's something to be said for living in the country. It feels so much more natural than this high-strung urban existence. As strange as it may sound, I can imagine myself being happy weaving rugs all day out in the middle of nowhere, even though I'm not going to drop out of school and join a commune just yet. But I think time out in the country keeps me sane and prevents me from becoming an obsessive-compulsive zombie.