My Riversleigh

Friends, I have just developed the film I took as I arrived at Riversleigh, and I wanted to share what I found. I took this picture as I was riding up the drive, dust swirling around my beat-up pickup truck. Framed by the massive oaks in front, Riversleigh looks monumental to me, a girl used to the mill houses and mountain houses of the foothills.

The day was calm, and though you can't tell, y'all are all on the porches having tall, cold glasses of tea. I remember seeing the gauzy curtains that mask the floor to ceiling windows swirling in the breeze, allowing glimpses to the life inside.


Is this up or is this down? I felt like Alice when I looked skyward in the foyer. I dusted myself off to make sure I was clean enough to come into a foyer like this, though I was assured that appearances mean little at Riversleigh.






I was briefly able to stake claim on my room, the former sewing room of the mistress. With yellow walls and green and blue accents, the room was exactly what I had pictured. Is that possible- Riversleigh knows what one pictures and makes itself so? Baskets and containers of yarns, needles, fabrics filled the spaces around the few pieces of furniture- a bed, nightstand and chest of drawers (known as a chester drawers where I'm from). Oh, and a trunk. A big trunk.




Oh yes. I peeked. Of course I peeked.