Sure enough, the ground outside the store is covered with rows of giant pumpkins and odd-shaped gourds. Inside, the shelves hold such things as jars of pumpkin butter and “kickles” (pickles with a kick). They also carry what one would expect in a farm store: a wide selection of homegrown fruit and vegetables and milk fresh from the cow.

“We produce something that people are going to eat,” Mary said, beaming. “There’s a certain satisfaction in that.”

Ken nodded his head and toed the floorboards with a well-worn boot. “Running a farm,” he said, “it’s a lifestyle. You’re not going to get rich by any means.”

The day we visited was the last full Saturday at Mount Olympus. The change of seasons brought with it the beginning of a shortened weekend schedule. “The winters are fun,” Ken said with a smile. “Just a 40-hour work week instead of sunup to sundown.”

“You get mixed emotions,” Mary added. “You get so ready for the season to end, “but you’re not so ready for the cash flow to end.”

“We’re worn out now,” Ken added with a laugh. “You should come back in the spring when we’re picking strawberries and have more energy.”

My next stop was the Virginia Bazaar, which actually sits at exit 110 on I-95. But Dawn and I walked the mile-and-a-half from Mount Olympus to the bazaar. The parking lot is filled with vendors selling items from card tables and boxes and card tables, while the vendors inside the warehouse-sized building operate from more traditional storefronts.

As we waded through an ocean of baubles, knick-knacks, antiques, and collectibles, Dawn grabbed my sleeve and said, “Oh, my God. This is where tacky comes to die!” She paused, then added the traditional Southern phrase that is supposed to forgive anyone for saying anything disparaging about someone else: “Bless their hearts.”

Though I laughed along with her, I had to later change my tune as both of us found items we simply had to buy. Dawn purchased a decorative incense holder, and I bought a coffee table book and an old record. With such wide (and sometimes wacky) selections, it’s impossible for anyone to walk through without finding something they want.

One store in particular caught my attention: Taddeo’s Treasures and Gifts (540-729-2934). In addition to shelves filled with figurines and collectibles, it featured a process to convert photographs into what appeared to be paintings on framed canvas. Looking at them, I couldn’t tell the difference between them and regular paintings. I thought of the many pictures I’d taken of friends and family and nodded to myself. That’s Christmas shopping done in one fell swoop! (For more information, send an email to mannytaddeo@yahoo.com.)