It would be an absolute delight to stay at a hotel where the doors don't slam shut. The Jamison Inn (soon to be Quality Inn) in Harrisonburg is reasonably soundproof but oh, those slamming doors.

The day got off to a groggy start. Everything was groggy, including the weather.
But you persist. I had several must-dos. I had to make a Turner Ham trip, buy a cheeseball for an upcoming Christmas party and get some photos for a project I've been working on.
First stop was the
Shenandoah Heritage Market south of Harrisonburg. There were no cheeseballs to be had, but I did taste-test some smoky onion spread and thought that would be pretty good. It tastes just as you'd expect, tangy and smoky and full of happy chemicals that go right to the cheese receptors in your brain.
Thank God the first ingredient is cheese.
There were lots of things to sample and all sorts of candy ranging from mundane (red hots) to disgusting (cricket lollipops). I have no enemies to buy for so I moved on.
Next I had my side project. Route 11 is also Old Valley Pike and back in the day, there were toll houses every ten miles or so where travelers would pony up some coin to head down or up the Valley. Very few of these toll houses remain. One is in ruin right beside the river south of Mount Jackson. The historical society in Shenandoah County is completely unorganized and I want to make sure this dear little house gets documented before it collapses completely. The porch fell off last winter.
Just taking pictures is a tricky situation because there's a very deep well in the front yard with a flimsy, bust under your feet wooden cover. I know where it is but I am still careful careful careful.
The house is beyond repair. This is the front room.
This is the back. And don't forget I'm trespassing right on the side of Route 11, wearing an aquamarine hoodie.
Of course I'll never be seen.
Bet you're just itching to see that lovely linoleum up close. Remember, the wall color under this whitewash is industrial elementary school green, like a Fiestaware color.
That's a delight for the retinas. I believe the house has been flooded out several times over the years since it's in the bottomland. If you've been on Route 11, this is very close to the covered bridge. As for how old the place is, hard to say. The nails look handmade. That could throw it from the 1830s all the way to about 1890. All this takes more research, which will have to be tackled at a later date.
Up next, will I ever find that damn cheeseball and will I be able to keep myself from buying other cheese products?