The cottage we stayed in was a very pretty but mildly strange place. The "pretty" aspect is (hopefully) evident from my photographs. The "strange" aspect had something to do with the many “light faith” books, like “Chicken Soup for the Mother’s Soul” (I read the first story and was tearing up, despite myself), or “God’s Devotions for Women” (featuring an irritating story about the virtues of Thomas Edison, who, according to what I’ve read, was a gigantic asshole). The hand-painted platitudes that adorned the walls were also a little weird, including the one in my room that read, somewhat drunkenly, “To the home of a friend is never long.”
Antioch as a whole is kind of strange. One rainy day, we went into town to find the art galleries that my mom was sure existed. Instead, we found an enormous pet store that contained, among other things, gigantic fake waterfalls (yours for a mere $3499!). Outside, we passed so many hair salons and bars my mom remarked, “Well, if we wanted to get our hair cut and then get drunk, Antioch is the place to do it.” I miss my mom. She is one of the best.
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