Our field trip began with a trip to Charleston. I've grown up in and around Charleston all my life and so I can navigate the streets with relative ease. Our driving fellow, Ryan, seemed to have trouble. Unfamiliarity with the roads was a major concern, but a constant slew of advice from Carol and myself probably didn't help. We crossed a bridge we didn't want to cross but all ended well as we pulled into the University of Charleston and found what we had been looking for: coffee. Well, that was what I was looking for, anyway. After grabbing my caramel macchiato, we ascended to the fourth floor library with a marvelous view of the Kanawha River and the capital building. While Carol wrote a letter to her husband, Olivia struggled to write anything, and Ryan wrote about the incredible river, I chose to write about the smell of books and how they reminded me of my grandfather. Once we left UC, we continued to the Kanawha State Forest, where Ryan and I were excited to find a merry-go-round. We spun around and around until we were dizzy and our shoes were covered in mud. Not sure our inner children were satisfied, we then proceeded to the swingsets. Carol was greatly amused by our childish behavior. When we finally sat down to write, Ryan discovered a charming inch worm on his sock. Like a true boy, he picked it up and put it on Olivia's paper. The inch worm became our temporary fellow as we discussed his name (Centa, short for Centameter, the only inch worm to measure himself in the metric. We're currently planning the children's book) and aided him in his journey. We quickly finished writing because, although the call to write is great, the call to food is even greater. Maslow pushed us to feed ourselves and we arrived at a fancy little bistro in South Hills. We were waited on by Josiah and, instead of taking up a great amount of space discussing his inadequcies, I'm simply going to list them: he called Ryan ma'am, he forgot Carol's lemons, he forgot Olivia did not want cheese, he forgot to come back and bring us water and ketchup, and he forgot to split our check. For all his failings, his worst attribute was his creepy, I'm-on-drugs smile which made us all feel very uncomfortable. Deciding writing at the restaurant was a Bad Idea, we continued on to Taylor Books, one of my favorite places on earth. Once there, we wrote short rants about our waiter then continued on to writing about our current location. This turned out to be my favorite piece of the day and I will rewrite it here. A bookstore is like my house. The fiction section is my kitchen, where everything delicioius resides. The mysteries are housed in my laundry room--where did that sock go? Ask Sherlock! My living room is nonfiction, sometimes inspiring but usually a bit dull. My bathroom is puzzle books and short stories, but is sometimes sudsy with a side of romance. My bedroom is labelled "staff only." It looks a lot longer on my paper. I guess I have big handwriting. Once I finished writing, I proceeded to browse the bookstore. I found one! Not a big surprise to anyone who knows me. I bought Agatha Cristie's "The Clocks" for $2.75 plus tax. An amazing deal. I just hope I don't already have it. We finished the day at Ellen's Homemade Ice Cream where Carol ran into some old students. I can't wait until I've been teaching long enough for that to happen to me. Overall, a great day! Pictures to be posted soon.