RB and I drove to Delaware on the day after Christmas to see her family. She has an aunt and uncle who live there, and her parents came for the holiday too. We drove from DC, where my brother lives.
Here was the view from the car for the whole trip there:
Miserable, wet, windy, foggy weather — but we made it and had a lovely lunch and dinner with her family.
The next morning, the sun finally came out. With no appointments to rush back for, we readied ourselves for a meandering drive back.
While filling up the car with gas, RB noticed this rather fantastic juxtaposition of signs:
RB was amused enough to run over and shoot a photo, after which we moseyed onward.
About 15 or 20 miles down the road, we sped by this:
What the…? RB had missed it, so I squealed to a halt on the shoulder and we U-turned to go have a look. The jolly Christmas ribbons! The cheery “Just ahead”! And what in the world is a “cemetery cone”?
A few more miles down the road, RB shouted, “Ha! Did you see that? Turn around!” I dutifully pulled another U-turn and backtracked to find this:
Welcome, plants! Here’s a friendly tree, gesturing to show you where to turn!
(Yes, we did eventually figure out that there must have been a manufacturing plant of some kind there, but the tree greeter was too perfect.)
Delaware, it seemed, was weird. Not creepy weird, just… unpredictable.
We finally came to a small town and found a cute little local restaurant that served breakfast all day. Score! We settled into a table and eagerly perused the menu. Here’s one of their specialties:
Mmmm… Eggs McLoo! That certainly is an eye-opener.
Only in Delaware.
Did you ever find out what Christmas trees, grave mounds, and cemetery cones have in common? Or what a cemetery cone even is? People will want to know!
Did you order Eggs McLoo? It doesn’t have anything to do with toilets, does it?
Also, Shake Shack not to be confused with its more famous cousin in NYC.
Hope you’re having a lovely time on the next leg of your jaunt! We miss youse.
xoxo
apparently, a cemetery cone is just a flower bouquet made for placing on graves.
Brekky sounds lovely – what time? ;)
xoxo
I was born in Delaware and lived there until I was eight. I have never heard of a cemetery cone (I guess I should consider myself lucky for that). It’s a really bizarre state. There’s a lot to it that most people don’t see in the twenty minutes they spend driving through it on road trips. As you said, there’s nothing really creepy about it. It’s just weird.
And let’s not forget that the weird state of Delaware gave us the great American thespian Judge Rheinhold.
Great post!