Day 12- Virginia, HOME!

The alarms alarmed and we lugged our exhausted selves and our impedimenta out to the pot-holed, pock-marked parking lot of the Charlottesville "North" Fairfield Inn. Not sure what was going down in Charlottesville this weekend, but downtown hotel rooms were not to be found.   Mr. Bullington deemed this locale the Branchlands Boulevard annex of The Greenbrier. Cute. Short sentence. Short tempers. When packing the car for the 1200th time this week, Charlotte made the discovery that an adorable little colony of ants had taken up residence in our ride. Attracted, I'm sure, to the veritable Golden Corral Ant Buffet afforded to them by two weeks of crumbs and refuse. Charlotte was appalled. I'm numb to complaining at this point, so we swatted and brushed them away as best we could and soldiered on like ants to our breakfast stop. 

The girls had chosen this shi-shi juice bar that sold things like overnight chia seeds swirled with vegan coconut tofu butter for $18 a jar. Or, you might opt for sprouted thrice-milled whole ancient grain toast spread with organic cashew slurry sprinkled with fair trade non-refined cacao.  There was an additional financial investment opportunity to purchase a shot of wheat grass beet juice with a cumin rim to wash it all down. Thomas asked for toast with butter and it really threw them for a loop! When Mr. Bullington paid the bill, he told us we'd be skipping lunch. And we did. 

We wound our way through the beautiful campus of the University of Virginia in abject silence because we were all mad, and tired, and sick of each other. We're just human. We get mad, and tired, and sick of each other. 

Perhaps we should've skipped the next stop, but I really wanted to visit Monticello, home to our Nation's 3rd President, Thomas Jefferson! I'd had plans to blast "What'd I Miss" or "Thomas Jefferson's Coming Home" from Hamilton, but sometimes you have to read your audience. And this audience? Not in the mood for frivolity, tomfoolery, or show tunes. 

Oh hey, Pretty lady!

Thomas testing out TJ's old skool odometer

Treasures sent from Louis and Clark

Calm down guys, we're next!!

Yay! Wine! I like wine! Unfortunately, they weren't handing out samples. 

Bookshelf goals. I gotta get a death mask. 

Well, who do we have here?!? TJ back from the grave.
Resurrected. Boogey-Woogie-Woogie

Monticello means "little mountain" in Italian. I have all sorts of other facts that I can pass off as my own, but this one was told to us by the cute little docent at the door. I don't speak a lick of Italian. The estate is situated so that a view of the glorious mountains is yours to behold, but the majesty is not guilt free. The conflicted history of T. J. is palpable. Monticello does a masterful job of not watering down Jefferson's faults. Paying homage to the slaves who worked this land and their stories, while not ignoring the complex, complicated fellow that helped shape our nation. He was curious, and musical, and scientific. He was driven by progress, and power, and passion. I was taken by the exhibit in the front hall that displayed objects sent to him by Louis and Clarke from their expedition. A rack from an elk, maps, seeds. Now, they seem archaic.  But back then,  novel things from our novel nation. Thomas Jefferson loved to read and study, and write and draw, and most importantly after penning the Declaration of Independence, he brought ice cream from France. Thank you, Thomas Jefferson, for your delicious ice cream and for the nation you helped create!

 Historic Ice Cream Peace Treaty

I REALLY should've stopped there. Called it a day. Bullingtons out. But, no. I couldn't pass Appomattox Courthouse en route to Charlotte, NC. (our halfway stop for the night). I mean, the dirt where Lee surrendered. Where we became a unified nation again. Our history. So, against my better judgement, we stopped the car, again. We all piled out, again. We walked to a visitor center, again. The young Bullingtons raised their voices in protests, again.  We didn't stay long, just long enough to look at the exhibits. I did learn that both Robert Lincoln (Abe's son) and George Armstrong Custer (of later Little Big Horn fame) were present at Appomattox Courthouse when General Lee surrendered. Isn't that fascinating?? No? Just me? I grabbed a pamphlet on the way out the door to read in the car. 

The thrilling Appomattox Courthouse!

Bounding up the hill, eager with anticipation!

Well, that was fun! 

Oooh look guys, some historic markers all about the advent of the banjo!! Should we stop???
I shiver from the icy glares.

Dinner.
Before we left on our trip, there was a friendly dispute among friends regarding the better roadside stop. Sorry, Erica. K-Bach wins the gas station war. Sheetz v. Wawa
We LOVE Sheetz!! I think we had breakfast, lunch, and dinner at some point from here. 

While curving through the Virginia country side we passed over a skunk that that had met his untimely end at the hand of a motorist, It stunk. Thomas assumed one of his sisters had emitted the offensive odor, sprayed a sleeping Charlotte with Febreze which alerted us to the fact that it is time to go home. The nerves are shot, we are all tired from 12 days on the road in very close quarters. The idea of unloading the car so that we can all stuff ourselves into a hotel room does not appeal to anyone. Mr. Bullington decides to take the bullet and drive us the entire way home. 

Thomas: an hour from the house, “After this, I don’t want to ride in this car for a year”

One day, in a land far away, perhaps our children will appreciate all of this knowledge we have bestowed upon them. I hope it plants a seed of curiosity. Of wonder. But, unfortunately today, I think they are just curious when they will arrive home, to their friends. to their beds. To their space. They wonder what they did to deserve  this family unit that drags them hither and yon. A family that squeezes them into tiny hotel rooms (and some spacious hotel rooms thankyouverymuch) and tents. A family that forces them to go to museums, and historic sites, and to see stuffed dead things. We're a bickery hot-mess family, but we love each other most days and drive each other crazy on the others. 

Thomas' mouth noises and incessant hand drumming reached a fever pitch as we turned onto Maple Avenue, just in time. 

We traveled through 10 total states, checked off 4 new ones. 

64 hours in the car.

3038 miles. Whew. 

See you next year when we see the South West! 

2013

46 States later!