The Ozinga Outlook: TAHG Day 4

Dear Bees and other Biting/Stinging bug types of Virginia,
We may be from Texas and seem very friendly, but YOU are NOT OUR friends. Please pass us by as you buzz along your merry way. Four stings amongst our group in one day is plenty. You may now find another group of nice people to terrorize.

Yours Sincerely,
The TAHG Group

Despite the bugs, this has been my favorite day of the trip, thus far. If I could change one thing, it would not be the bees but the ban on indoor photography in museums and great homes. The curators obviously don't realize that I have recently acquired a new home and need decorating ideas. Shameful.

The morning began with a tour of Thomas Jefferson's home, Monticello. The home sits on top of a mountain with all of the out buildings on leveled terraces below the main home. I wish I had had the opportunity to explore the home at my own pace. Mr. Martin was an incredible guide, but he was on a time schedule. My eyes did not want to be on a time schedule. President Jefferson put so much detail into every tiny aspect of his home-the placement of windows, the closing of one door closed it's matching French door, the clocks, the efficient, climate controlled storage under the home, the first copy-machine. It was all on display, but I was rushed pass before my eye could thoroughly absorb all they desired. Jefferson was a true genius, and I doubt that man was able to sleep much, as often as he was dreaming up new ideas. One of his quotes that I adore, "I cannot live without books". Amen!

I could go back to explore for hours more than we were allotted today. I did have the opportunity to play with some of the toys Jefferson made for his grandchildren, decoders and the like. I also tried my hand writing with a quill pen and ink. It wasn't easy but was lots and lots of fun. I love hands on history!

Montpelier is the home of James and Dolley Madison, and much work has been done to restore the house to it's look during its time in the Madisons' hands.

What the parlor was like when the DuPont's moved in the 1900s.

How tea used to be sold.

This is what it looked like at the time of the Boston Tea Party.

The restoration work on the home is meticulous, and they here too have a live archaeological dig site out by the old family cemetery. This is also a race horse training farm. The grounds are hilly (hills, what ever are those monstrosities?!), green forested, and beautiful.

Retired race horse.

The house tour was spectacular. The details in the art and trying to make things appear as accurate as possible are impressive. Ms. April was an excellent story teller on our tour. We are spending the night in the guest houses build ages ago, but completely modernized, on the property. It is a humbling experience. The grounds were ours to roam the evening long. I bummed on the Main House's stunning front porch with a drink, good friends, and a hazy Blue Ridge sunset and soaked it all in. Here, right now in this place, being a Federalist or Anti-Federalists is of no import. I was sitting on the steps of the man's home who ensured our Declaration of Independence was written and later wrote out the Constitution for our nation in the room right above me. This is what made my country. This is why we still exist. Lord, bring America to it's knees to return to You. We owe it to these great men who would be up in arms if they could see our current state.

In the main gardens

The house where we're staying tonight. It is so comfortable.

On our house's porch.

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A man pulled up in a truck out past the front yard and began flying two rc planes. A few of us walked down and began chatting with a Mr. Dwight Southard. When Dolley Madison sold the house, it was purchased by the DuPont family who lived in the home for many, many years. Mr. Southard was Ms. Dupont-Scott's chauffeur. He told us about the spitfire that was the great Ms. Scott. She ran this place like a drill sergeant and made a great thing out of it with her team of 80 hired staff. I would have loved to hear her stories, but Mr. Southard told us several. I love living history encounters!

Mr. Southard, myself, and Sarah

As Mr. Southard was packing up his planes, a younger gent begins walking our way with a gorgeous gray weim. I walked right up and told him I had to play with his weimy since I have one at home I miss very much. The man is Stuart and the weimy is Kaiser. We played a great game of fetch while I listened to Stuart explain how he managed to be a small farm boy in Scotland and wind up becoming a horse trainer in France, Italy, Dubai, and most recently Virginia. He knows a lot of the horse racing side of Montpelier's history, and I gave full attention to how they train the two year olds and build up their endurance to then be sent of for more serious training in bigger arenas. It's an amazing business. I got my weimy fix for the week, had conversations that I know were special gifts from God to lift me up and thrill me in the way that only He can work to make cool things happen, I chased fireflies down one hill and back up the next to our house, and I'm about to go to bed in a period replica bed in a period house for more history in the morning.