back from virginia

We got back tonight, and I’m so tired I probably will make no sense whatsoever, but if I wait to write about the trip I won’t do it. Or I’ll do it and leave everything important out because I’ll have forgotten what was important by then. Of course now I’ll leave everything important out because I’m so tired I’m just babbling senselessly. Oh, well!

I keep wanting to say we had a really good trip and it was a lot of fun and it was SO nice to see everyone – then I feel awful because this trip wasn’t for fun. It was for a funeral. And much like when Baker B’s father died, I kept wondering where Uncle Frank was. I’d think for a second that he was probably upstairs showing someone his old photographs, or the letters from the Civil War, or stuff he’d scanned on his computer. It didn’t seem like a funeral trip.

We left around 7:45 Friday morning. In our usual manner, we intended to leave at 7 but ran late. The funeral was in Amherst, at 1:00. We did manage to arrive in plenty of time, though, despite a few wrong turns thanks to Mapquest. I’d printed out directions that were too zoomed in to tell us which way to turn on 29 once we arrived in Amherst, but we  finally figured it out after going too far in each direction. The funeral was pretty quick and very surreal -again, it just seemed like perhaps Uncle Frank had gone off to smoke his pipe, maybe. Or stroll around the grounds. They had a very nice reception at Sweet Brier College, then we drove on up to Charlottesville, about an hour north.

We checked into our room at the Doubletree, which Cousin J had reserved for us. She was all stressed out because it was pretty pricey and at one time they’d checked rates and they were much more reasonable but they didn’t nab the rooms then and the rates skyrocketed so I think she was afraid she was sending everyone to the poorhouse…. but duuuuuude, that was SUCH a NICE ROOM!!!! Seriously, it was twice what we usually pay in Charleston in summer – $140  a night – but it was about 80 times nicer than the Red Roof Inn, so we were fine with it. And we had the Best.Room.EVER. It was like Baker B’s dream room. It was the corner room beside a conference room at the end of the hall on the 9th floor (the top floor) so there was nobody beside us or above us or anywhere near us – and the view was spectacular. We had two windows facing different directions so we kept the drapes wide open the entire time and gazed over the river and woods. It was also a very elegant hotel with stuff like pillowtop mattress covers and ten zillion cushy pillows and a down comforter and a robe in the closet that was so thick it weighted like fifteen pounds – I never wear robes but I wore that one both nights. I haven’t stayed in an elegant hotel since I quit working at Goodwin Weavers where I traveled to trade shows, and even then we didn’t have rooms that were as nice as this one. I miss that room.

I also felt kind of like we were the really lucky ones, since Cousin E was in a room with double beds and her husband and two teenagers, and Cousin MJ was in a room with double beds and her husband and two teeny little girls, and Cousin J was at her mom’s with two semi-little boys and her husband and MIL. So they were all a bit crowded, while we were living like royalty in our spacious corner room with the stupendous view. My brother came for the funeral too and stayed Friday night, so Cousin E’s college kid stayed with him that night. The next night, while Baker B and I were still at her mother’s house,  Cousin E concocted a spectacular lie about being me, and needing a cot (they wouldn’t give them a cot because they had double beds – supposedly it was a fire hazard). She told the front desk that she’d forgotten her key so they gave her our key and then she let herself in our room and called back to the desk and said, "Oh, by the way, I forgot to request a cot while I was there!" Since we were in a king the cot was not a fire hazard, and sure enough, they brought her a cot. Which her husband rushed down to their room while nobody was looking.

Cousin MJ was horrified and said, "They LET YOU IN B’S ROOM with NO ID??!!?? They are SO NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!!!" I’s kind of scary they have such lax security at the Doubletree, but it was a good thing for Cousin E and her gang.

Yesterday we went to Monticello, which I throughly enjoyed. Uncle Frank was a big Thomas Jefferson fan, and the only other time I’ve been to Monticello was with him, so I’m sure he would approve. Cousin E and her teenager who DROVE US THERE (horrifying! I think of her as being, oh, eight) and Cousin J and her husband and their two fun little boys and Cousin J’s very very nice MIL who babysat the boys and cooked us amazing food all took the tour and wandered around and had a very relaxing afternoon.

We had dinner both nights at my aunt’s house, and sat around chatting and drinking wine. And of course I have ten zillion photos. Which I am just about to post a few of — but first, I just have to say that my photos are about to be getting way way way more impressive. Because Uncle Frank was a lover of photography and a lover of technology, and he had a really really nice SLR digital camera. A Cannon 20D.

And my cousins LET ME HAVE HIS CAMERA. I am STILL in shock – I have, of course, been wanting a better camera for years – since my film camera bit the dust – but I sure wasn’t expecting to get one any time soon. It was pretty much the last thing on earth I was expecting. And exactly what I’d have bought if I had unlimited funds. Everyone SWORE they are perfectly happy with their own cameras, and didn’t need this one. So here I am, with this amazing camera, three lenses, some filters, and who knows what all. What I don’t have just yet is a way to upload the photos – for some reason my Zoom Browser doesn’t recognize this camera, and I don’t have the software. But I imagine that is easily remedied.

So, until I can download these photos, here are a few from our visit:

A nifty little garden house at Monticello

More garden:

Monticello itself:

Mr. Jefferson’s cool clock:

Cousin MJ’s adorable kids:

She was NOT drinking wine! I have no idea where that wine glass came from.

And finally our lovely room. The sign was hilarious – 29 rooms are one direction – our room is the other direction:

<img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2112/2273222306_241e8cd0f1.jpg?v=0&#8243; alt=”” />

From one window, with a balcony:

And out the other window:

And since I am, literally, falling asleep over the keyboard, perhaps I should hit save and go to bed –