Ain't We Got Fun?

 

Glen took this picture on Wednesday evening when we were walking back to our hotel after our supper. Now if this isn't the most charming little southern town you've ever seen, I don't know what could be. 
Abbeville, South Carolina and it is famous for being "Both the birthplace and deathbed of the confederacy."
Well. What can you say to that? 
The place we stayed was pretty historic but I have to say there was just something off there. I don't even want to go into it. Let's just move on. 
I must mention, however, a very, very old lady whom we met Thursday morning. She was as bright eyed as a little bird and had very dyed red hair. She wanted to chat and I would have given a hundred dollars to record her voice. She had an accent unlike any I've ever heard and whether or not it is a typical S.C. accent, I do not know. On top of that, her voice was as high and sweet as a young girl's. 
I asked her if she lived there. I knew there were a few people who did make the place their residence. She said no, she was only staying there for a week until she could find a place to live because her house had been condee-emed. 
Things had just gotten away from her and it was so expensive to fix up a place, you know, and she didn't know what she was going to do. 
I felt so bad for her. She didn't seem overly upset but more bewildered. I wondered- had she no children? No one to help her? 
I will not soon forget her.

We drove almost all backroads and it was about the least stressful trip I've ever made. We made it here on Thursday around 2:30, met up with Jessie, did our grocery shopping, and then Glen and I got to the house we'd rented, unloaded the car, and I started in on a pot of chicken and dumplings. 
Of course. 
They were good, by the way. Seriously good. 
And not hard as rocks. 

We have stayed here before, for sure, and it is adequate and more so. 

Boppy doing what Boppy does best. Teaching children how to play poker. 

So Jessie had bought tickets for all of us to go tour the Biltmore mansion and gardens today which I was a little worried about because I knew it was going to be a long day with lots of walking and besides that, we had to GET UP EARLY but I also knew that it was going to be amazing. 
And it was. 
Mostly pictures here, people.

A view of the mansion on the drive in. 

We started out at the gardens and the hot houses. Y'all- I was so overwhelmed by the plants that I literally disassociated. There was ten thousand times more sensory input from all of those plants and flowers than any Walmart in the world could provide. 
It was heaven and it was not easy. 

And it went on forever from hot house to green house to cool house. I could not begin to take it all in. That would require a lifetime. 

And then we moved on and walked up to the mansion although I really think it should be called a castle. Good Lord. We walked through a rose garden and more flowers and more exotic trees and there were fountains and statuary and koi ponds and we got coffee and other beverages and we took the boys to a toy store where the shops are and I got them both a grandma pick-out-what-you-want present. August got a kit to make models of some sort and Levon wanted a little stuffy hedgehog whose name is now MoMo and he loves his new friend. August, as we speak, is working on his models. 

Jessie had made lunch reservations for us at the Stable Cafe and yes, it was a cafe set in the old stable. The food was so good and we had so much left over that we're having the leftovers, along with some chicken and dumplings for supper.

And then on to the house tour and I now feel like we've had been on some sort of voyage to the past. 
I'm not going to go into any of the history of the Biltmore's or any of that. Look it up. But Jesus God Almighty, they had a lot of money. The Biltmores, that is.

This is just one piece of art in the house. There are Rembrandts and Matisse's and John Singer Sargents and Rembrandt and I have no idea what else but this lady, "Rosita, the Lady in Red" by Spanish artist Ignacio Zuloaga, especially charmed me. 

A picture from the library. The circular staircase comes down from the floor where the guest rooms are so that they could take them to go find a book to read, should the need arise. 

The music room. Boud- the tapestries are from the early 16th century. 

The entrance to the mansion (or one of them at least). 
Look up. It's worth it. 

The breakfast room.

Also from the breakfast room. The windows would not have been shaded and light would have flooded it in the morning. Almost every room had a view of the beautiful mountains beyond. 

We walked down hallways as long as football fields, we climbed circular staircases up and up and up and we climbed ones that, although not circular, also took us into the far realms of the house. We went down staircases that took us to the kitchens, the pantries, the laundry rooms, the servants' rooms. After awhile I just stopped taking pictures. It was all too much. 
I cannot imagine what sort of person would want to build such a place. The audio guided tour we were all able to listen to made it seem that Biltmore had nothing more in mind than the good of Asheville and the glory of its stones and and rocks and the views and good, healthy air, and a place where the very most interesting and educated people in the world would want to come together to glory in the scenery, to enjoy the hospitality, to meet and learn from each other. 
Okay. Maybe. Whatever, it's certainly a hell of an impressive place and I'm so glad we got to see it. 
Especially the gardens. 

We're back at the house having Friday night martinis in the quiet of this beautiful place.

The creek gurgles, the air is still tonight. It's been a very good day. 
When I woke up at 7:15 this morning and knew I had to get up, part of me thought, "Oh god. I do not want to do this."

But more of me said, "This is going to be amazing."

And it was. In all ways. 
I asked August on our way home today what his favorite part of the day had been. He said, "You guys." 
I clarified this and he meant his grandfather and me. 
I can hardly bear the sweetness of it. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon