We headed out last Monday to our denomination’s annual synod meeting. We are members of the Associate Reformed Presbyterian church, and Greg attended as our church’s elder delegate. The children and I tagged along for fun, but as it turned out in the beginning, the only fun would be the kind that we created ourselves.

I’m not “into” family trips with lots of young’ns. Which means, I haven’t been excited to hit the road for nine years now. Greg is the optimist, which is easier to be when both boys in the family are either in diapers or able to take care of themselves in public restrooms. The girls are all mine. Moms with young girls will understand my sentiment.

Trip

Our first stop was at a working farm in South Carolina. Buying something that could support our family is something we’ve talked about for several years now. We enjoyed seeing an operation up close, and the owner gave us several hours of an upfront view. (We were potential buyers, not tourists.) The farm’s main product is pre-picked and U-pick berries. The small store onsite sells grass-fed beef, raw milk, and wheat berries from other local farms.

The children enjoyed the woods, the lake, and picking berries. Our two oldest even got to drive the golf cart around the property, and this was very impressive to them. I’m glad they are easily excited.

Berry

We had many questions which our host graciously answered. He started the operation just ten years ago as a city slicker too. He said most things are learned from the community of local farmers. It seems they are a breed that stick together and help each other. I’ve found this to be true in many rural areas here in the south, so long as you are genuinely interested and humble. We know nothing of running a commercial venture. Too, since my gardening knowledge is limited to a Florida climate, I find it incredibly easy not to act like a know-it-all.

From the farm, we traveled onto Flat Rock, NC, where the synod meeting would be held that week. We pulled into our hotel at 10 p.m. Since we’d been on the road since 5:30 a.m., it was good to finally end the day.

When we arrived, however, the hotel office was closed! Too appreciate this fully, you have to know that I’m expecting, and we have five small cranky children in the backseat. (There was nothing wrong with Greg, though.) We were a little baffled since there was no mention of the office closing at 8 p.m. on our reservation confirmation. So the baby is crying, there are no vacancies in town (due to synod), and the office is dark. We’ve traveled a long way, and while we sat there, I felt like Clark Griswold.

After several phone calls, we found out that they gave away our room too. In the end, our old pastor gave up his room to us and moved to another. We sorted all this out in a dark parking lot late at night. It took about an hour. Greg is impervious to pressure and so all this was no big deal. If you remember, he was a youth pastor for many years before we married.