Toothless People, "The Charleston" and Other West Virginian Delights

Every town in West Virginia ends in –burg or –ville or -wood or –town or –ford… Casey and Johnny Ray laugh about my texts constantly adding the wrong suffix to Mill-. Our first night in Millwood, Bridget and I are delirious from our nine-hour road trip; Casey sets up an I.V. of Shiner Bock for us while Johnny Ray slaves over sweet potato fries and burgers. (You guys are the best!) We meet their friends April, a.k.a. Marilyn Monroe, Brian, Ryan and Zach. Oh, Zach. He was clearly absent the day “The Charleston” was taught in dance class. He stands up and starts flailing limbs in every direction, 1000 percent confident that he is teaching us the right way to perform it. Adorable.
Our next morning’s run along a country road garners stares as if we have ten heads as well as, “I think he went that way!” from a- presumably local- toothless biker. Apparently people don’t run for fitness much in Millwood.

An excursion to Marietta, Ohio (missed the state sign photo op- again) for beer and crack pizza at the brewery followed by headstands on the Ohio River bridge. What else would we do on a Saturday? We consider wearing all black to church for Easter Sunday, but decide against it after hearing that it’s actually a shoot-able offense in West Virginia or Kentucky. Extra big hugs and kisses to Casey and Johnny for the 6 a.m. coffee and the birth charts; we miss you already!