I slept in. From 8:30 – 9:00ish, I had a very weird dream. Wrigley Field was in Kansas. Kim Bontrager was showing me around the state, riding on a tiny train – like the kind you take around the zoo. It was all good until we went down a very steep hill and I realized the train was some sort of roller coaster. Kim insisted it was normal.
It was extraordinarily strange.
On to real life: I headed to the County Seat Restaurant, reknowned for their weekend breakfast buffet. My parents showed up, unexpected but cheerful. We shared a cup of coffee together.
I got in the car with The Man of Many Surprises. We headed west. That’s all I knew.
Listened to Bruce Hornsby
the whole way, wondering how I ever missed this guy. Incredible musician, unbelieveably creative…anyway, on we drove.
Right around Charlottesville, we exited the highway and headed up the mountain. I realized our destination:
We were at Monticelllo. I was thrilled! I’ve wanted to go ever since my first trip with the kids up to Carters Mountain.
We wandered the grounds for a few hours, listening to the Oprah-like saga of Sally Hemings’ daliances with Thomas Jefferson and the subsequent DNA testing results, visiting gravestones, checking out walls and gardens and 200-year old fireplaces. The house tour was remarkable.
I left anxious to get my hands on that biography about Jefferson, or maybe ready to set aside time to watch the mini-series. The entire experience was fascinating, well-done and a testimony to the right way to preserve history. If you haven’t done Monticello, put it on your short list.
It was a stellar day, capped off with a Snickers Blizzard.
Oh, yeah – then I got home and saw that my girls had cleaned the house. People, it just doesn’t get better than that.
Color me content.