Our
Journey:
Journey:
Avalon's Army of Angels
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| October 9, 2008 Williamsburg Day 3 |
As it turned out, I ended up seeing Ambrosia far
earlier than I anticipated. About 11:30 or 12, I got
up to make a midnight potty run. (do you all hate
those as much as I do?) The bathroom's second
door opened into the family room. Being as it was
the middle of the night and I was sleepy, what the
heck did I care if it was open? Imagine my
surprise, when my sleep-addled brain thought it
heard Ambrosia talking...
As soon as I um...could...I wandered into the
darkness to prove to myself I'd lost my mind. No,
my mind was perfectly in tact (shock of shocks!). I
had heard Ambrosia, and she nearly scared me
freckle-free when she spoke to me as I leaned in
for a closer look.
When I'd gathered the few wits I had left, I tried to
surmise what had happened. Ambrosia went on to
tell me that she hadn't been at Marnita and Kevin's
for very long, when she started to feel really bad.
She'd asked to come back down to our unit, and
Marnita had returned her with a hug and a good
night. I asked Ambrosia if Daddy knew she was
there, and she said yes, but when he knew she
was settled on the couch he'd gone to bed. Oh
dear Daddy...I spent the night thinking some pretty
rotten (and I would find out later, unfair ) things
about him.
I'd only been talking to Ambrosia for a minute or
two when the moaning started again. In fact, it had
been moaning I'd heard from the bathroom.
Ambrosia was absolute misery in a package. She
was in body wracking pain, and so nauseous she
couldn't even sleep. It didn't take long before the
nausea began a production line...and then things
got really interesting.
I spent the night laying on the bone-warping hard
floor, trying to make sure I popped up quick
enough to hold hair and help Ambrosia every time
a "wave" hit. I might have scored 12 or 15 winks,
but I was so mangled by morning, I couldn't have
counted that high if I tried. I'm sure its not hard to
imagine the various forms of torture I fantasized
about for the husband who had abandoned her in
this state.
Morning brought the rest of the story, and a
reprieve from weaponry for Nick. When Ambrosia
had asked to "go home", she hadn't told Marnita
she didn't feel well. And while she had told Nick
her stomach was bothering her, she had assured
him she was fine, and didn't need anything but to
be tucked in. Nick had gone to bed thinking she
was simply homesick and wanted to be with us. He
felt awful thinking he'd left Ambrosia alone in so
much agony. Good thing too...I'd had lots of time
to plot all sorts of interesting revenge scenarios.
Once he looked so miserable, I was able to
mentally flush my "Kill Bill" remake.
Now we knew that Avalon's tummy trouble wasn't
as much "Avalonish" as it was "flu-ish". Before we
could even begin to doubt it, Anam decided to step
up to the plate and solidify our position on the
matter. Nick had gone in to check on him after a
nap, only to find him violently vomiting, and filling
the entire bed with what can only be called Toxic
Waste of the Century. We were in the middle of a
full scale epidemic.
While I tried to hold down the fort, by holding up
the buckets, Marnita helped Nick learn to work the
unit washer and dryer. She also generously
provided us with the laundry soap to wash the
multiple loads it took to clean the bed. Quite nice
for a woman who we may very likely have doomed
to a day of worshiping the porcelain god of her
choice. As with all things, Marnita was the Queen
of Kindness and Understanding. God save the
Queen!
Eventually, things settled down, and we all decided
that we could divide up for a while. I would take
Aurora back to Williamsburg for one last quick visit,
and Nick would stay behind with the three little
ones, and take advantage of the giant hot tub in
the master bath. After that, they would spend the
day resting and watching cartoons, trying to gather
energy and health for the one thing they
desperately wanted to do in Williamsburg, Bush
Gardens.
Because our day was short, Aurora and I were
under the gun to choose our tours wisely, and limit
our wandering to quick peeks at a few shops we'd
really wanted to see. We started our day by
joining a tour group at the Peyton Randolph house.
The Peyton Randolph house used role playing to
help us try to understand the dynamics of life in a
colonial home. Aurora was chosen to be Betty
Randolph, Peyton's wife. I was Betty's personal
slave, forced to stand at attention, awaiting her
every whim. Aurora experienced nirvana...the
chance to "own" her mother! She missed no
opportunity to play her part, much to the
amusement of our fellow tourists.
After the official tour, we were free to wander the
extensive grounds and check out the slave
quarters, out buildings, and working kitchen. The
cook interpreter was fascinating. She answered
dozens of questions posed by ourselves and
another couple we'd become friendly with during
the tour. Only as we left the kitchen, did we
discover they were also from Ohio - just slightly
north of where we live!
Our favorite find of the day had to be the giant
spinning wheel in a hallway near the kitchen. Its
precisely the type and size of spinning wheels that
are always pictured in Sleeping Beauty stories.
(that Aurora is named after) Neither of us could
resist the passed-out-against-the-wall picture,
although the passersby thought we had screws
loose.
From the Randolph house, we made our way down
the street to the Cooper's (barrel/bucket maker)
shop. While the trade is interesting, the cooper
was a bit too full of herself to make what she was
telling us very palatable. She was so
self-important, it made a possibly fascinating stop,
into a how-fast-can-we-smoothly-exit fiasco. Next
to the snarky bus drivers, she was definitely the
worst interpreter we ran across.
Down the street a bit further, we stopped into the
cabinet maker's shop. The furniture they had
displayed was beautiful, but Aurora and I don't
know enough about woodworking to appreciate
what they were doing. There were oodles of
interesting tools as far as the eye could see, but
we barely know a screwdriver from a socket
wrench, so the impressiveness of the exhibit was a
tad lost on us. The craftsmen seemed lovely
though, we saw them having friendly conversations
with several Pappo-types that seemed to be nearly
drooling on their respective shoes. For us, the
best part of the shop was the exit. It led you down
this stoney path, across a hand-hewn bridge over
a scenic little creek. We both fell in love with it,
and discovered we had simultaneously imagined
the same trolls and fairies living there. I won't bore
you with my multitude of pictures. The magic of
the spot didn't seem to translate well in photos
anyway.
From the cabinet maker's shop, we took a small
detour down to the carriage barns. I wanted to ask
about purchasing a small bag of the wool from the
heritage sheep. We'd learned about the
availability of the wool from our Bits and Bridles
tour guide. Considering the "popularity" of this
trip, I knew it could be quite a few years before I
drugged them all into complacency to come back.
I figured I might never get a chance again to
purchase it.
It took some doing, and a lot of patience, but we
eventually arranged to meet with the correct
person the next morning, on our way to Busch
Gardens. It also took a lot of upsucking from mom,
to make it up to Aurora for dragging her along on
my side trip.
From the barns, we headed over to the Duke of
Gloucester Street and a few of the trade shops
that we hadn't been able to visit before. We
learned to thank our lucky stars for modern
medicine in the Apothecary shop, and to thank our
modern panties in the dressmaker's shop. Our
favorite, by far, was the wigmaker's shop. The
wigmaker was as fascinating as she was skilled.
She is "famous" in Williamsburg for being a strong,
independent businesswoman. Women did own
businesses in Colonial times. The wigmaker's
shop is meant to serve as an example of the
struggles those women faced, as well as to
educate you about the importance of wigs to the
colonial people who wore them.
Aurora and I had a rare opportunity to enjoy the
company of the wig maker in peace. Most of our
tours/stops in Williamsburg had been plagued by
families who ignored their ill-mannered children, or
school groups who couldn't be bothered to pay
attention to theirs. We'd often had questions or
interests in a subject, but no opportunity to look
into them further. At the wigmaker's shop, we were
blissfully alone for a while, and able to really delve
into the subject. We both learned more than we
would have in 100 books, thanks to the wonderful
interpreter. I think we both agree it was our
favorite interaction in Colonial Williamsburg.
As we were leaving the wigmaker, it was nearing
time for Revolutionary City to begin. We agreed
we needed to exit the scene pronto - and head
back to the den of darkness, formerly known as
our condo. Thankfully, a good portion of the veil
of indecency had lifted by the time we returned,
and were able to enjoy another wonderful
community dinner with Marnita and Kevin.
After dinner and a few games, Marnita and Kevin
took Aurora and I out for one of their favorite
activities, ghost hunting. They've been on so
many of the tours, and own so many of the books,
that Marnita is probably the single best tour guide
that Williamsburg could ever hope to employ. We
passed several "Official" ghost tours, but you know
what? You couldn't have paid me to go on one of
those. Our guides were much more fun, and
probably far more knowledgeable!
earlier than I anticipated. About 11:30 or 12, I got
up to make a midnight potty run. (do you all hate
those as much as I do?) The bathroom's second
door opened into the family room. Being as it was
the middle of the night and I was sleepy, what the
heck did I care if it was open? Imagine my
surprise, when my sleep-addled brain thought it
heard Ambrosia talking...
As soon as I um...could...I wandered into the
darkness to prove to myself I'd lost my mind. No,
my mind was perfectly in tact (shock of shocks!). I
had heard Ambrosia, and she nearly scared me
freckle-free when she spoke to me as I leaned in
for a closer look.
When I'd gathered the few wits I had left, I tried to
surmise what had happened. Ambrosia went on to
tell me that she hadn't been at Marnita and Kevin's
for very long, when she started to feel really bad.
She'd asked to come back down to our unit, and
Marnita had returned her with a hug and a good
night. I asked Ambrosia if Daddy knew she was
there, and she said yes, but when he knew she
was settled on the couch he'd gone to bed. Oh
dear Daddy...I spent the night thinking some pretty
rotten (and I would find out later, unfair ) things
about him.
I'd only been talking to Ambrosia for a minute or
two when the moaning started again. In fact, it had
been moaning I'd heard from the bathroom.
Ambrosia was absolute misery in a package. She
was in body wracking pain, and so nauseous she
couldn't even sleep. It didn't take long before the
nausea began a production line...and then things
got really interesting.
I spent the night laying on the bone-warping hard
floor, trying to make sure I popped up quick
enough to hold hair and help Ambrosia every time
a "wave" hit. I might have scored 12 or 15 winks,
but I was so mangled by morning, I couldn't have
counted that high if I tried. I'm sure its not hard to
imagine the various forms of torture I fantasized
about for the husband who had abandoned her in
this state.
Morning brought the rest of the story, and a
reprieve from weaponry for Nick. When Ambrosia
had asked to "go home", she hadn't told Marnita
she didn't feel well. And while she had told Nick
her stomach was bothering her, she had assured
him she was fine, and didn't need anything but to
be tucked in. Nick had gone to bed thinking she
was simply homesick and wanted to be with us. He
felt awful thinking he'd left Ambrosia alone in so
much agony. Good thing too...I'd had lots of time
to plot all sorts of interesting revenge scenarios.
Once he looked so miserable, I was able to
mentally flush my "Kill Bill" remake.
Now we knew that Avalon's tummy trouble wasn't
as much "Avalonish" as it was "flu-ish". Before we
could even begin to doubt it, Anam decided to step
up to the plate and solidify our position on the
matter. Nick had gone in to check on him after a
nap, only to find him violently vomiting, and filling
the entire bed with what can only be called Toxic
Waste of the Century. We were in the middle of a
full scale epidemic.
While I tried to hold down the fort, by holding up
the buckets, Marnita helped Nick learn to work the
unit washer and dryer. She also generously
provided us with the laundry soap to wash the
multiple loads it took to clean the bed. Quite nice
for a woman who we may very likely have doomed
to a day of worshiping the porcelain god of her
choice. As with all things, Marnita was the Queen
of Kindness and Understanding. God save the
Queen!
Eventually, things settled down, and we all decided
that we could divide up for a while. I would take
Aurora back to Williamsburg for one last quick visit,
and Nick would stay behind with the three little
ones, and take advantage of the giant hot tub in
the master bath. After that, they would spend the
day resting and watching cartoons, trying to gather
energy and health for the one thing they
desperately wanted to do in Williamsburg, Bush
Gardens.
Because our day was short, Aurora and I were
under the gun to choose our tours wisely, and limit
our wandering to quick peeks at a few shops we'd
really wanted to see. We started our day by
joining a tour group at the Peyton Randolph house.
The Peyton Randolph house used role playing to
help us try to understand the dynamics of life in a
colonial home. Aurora was chosen to be Betty
Randolph, Peyton's wife. I was Betty's personal
slave, forced to stand at attention, awaiting her
every whim. Aurora experienced nirvana...the
chance to "own" her mother! She missed no
opportunity to play her part, much to the
amusement of our fellow tourists.
After the official tour, we were free to wander the
extensive grounds and check out the slave
quarters, out buildings, and working kitchen. The
cook interpreter was fascinating. She answered
dozens of questions posed by ourselves and
another couple we'd become friendly with during
the tour. Only as we left the kitchen, did we
discover they were also from Ohio - just slightly
north of where we live!
Our favorite find of the day had to be the giant
spinning wheel in a hallway near the kitchen. Its
precisely the type and size of spinning wheels that
are always pictured in Sleeping Beauty stories.
(that Aurora is named after) Neither of us could
resist the passed-out-against-the-wall picture,
although the passersby thought we had screws
loose.
From the Randolph house, we made our way down
the street to the Cooper's (barrel/bucket maker)
shop. While the trade is interesting, the cooper
was a bit too full of herself to make what she was
telling us very palatable. She was so
self-important, it made a possibly fascinating stop,
into a how-fast-can-we-smoothly-exit fiasco. Next
to the snarky bus drivers, she was definitely the
worst interpreter we ran across.
Down the street a bit further, we stopped into the
cabinet maker's shop. The furniture they had
displayed was beautiful, but Aurora and I don't
know enough about woodworking to appreciate
what they were doing. There were oodles of
interesting tools as far as the eye could see, but
we barely know a screwdriver from a socket
wrench, so the impressiveness of the exhibit was a
tad lost on us. The craftsmen seemed lovely
though, we saw them having friendly conversations
with several Pappo-types that seemed to be nearly
drooling on their respective shoes. For us, the
best part of the shop was the exit. It led you down
this stoney path, across a hand-hewn bridge over
a scenic little creek. We both fell in love with it,
and discovered we had simultaneously imagined
the same trolls and fairies living there. I won't bore
you with my multitude of pictures. The magic of
the spot didn't seem to translate well in photos
anyway.
From the cabinet maker's shop, we took a small
detour down to the carriage barns. I wanted to ask
about purchasing a small bag of the wool from the
heritage sheep. We'd learned about the
availability of the wool from our Bits and Bridles
tour guide. Considering the "popularity" of this
trip, I knew it could be quite a few years before I
drugged them all into complacency to come back.
I figured I might never get a chance again to
purchase it.
It took some doing, and a lot of patience, but we
eventually arranged to meet with the correct
person the next morning, on our way to Busch
Gardens. It also took a lot of upsucking from mom,
to make it up to Aurora for dragging her along on
my side trip.
From the barns, we headed over to the Duke of
Gloucester Street and a few of the trade shops
that we hadn't been able to visit before. We
learned to thank our lucky stars for modern
medicine in the Apothecary shop, and to thank our
modern panties in the dressmaker's shop. Our
favorite, by far, was the wigmaker's shop. The
wigmaker was as fascinating as she was skilled.
She is "famous" in Williamsburg for being a strong,
independent businesswoman. Women did own
businesses in Colonial times. The wigmaker's
shop is meant to serve as an example of the
struggles those women faced, as well as to
educate you about the importance of wigs to the
colonial people who wore them.
Aurora and I had a rare opportunity to enjoy the
company of the wig maker in peace. Most of our
tours/stops in Williamsburg had been plagued by
families who ignored their ill-mannered children, or
school groups who couldn't be bothered to pay
attention to theirs. We'd often had questions or
interests in a subject, but no opportunity to look
into them further. At the wigmaker's shop, we were
blissfully alone for a while, and able to really delve
into the subject. We both learned more than we
would have in 100 books, thanks to the wonderful
interpreter. I think we both agree it was our
favorite interaction in Colonial Williamsburg.
As we were leaving the wigmaker, it was nearing
time for Revolutionary City to begin. We agreed
we needed to exit the scene pronto - and head
back to the den of darkness, formerly known as
our condo. Thankfully, a good portion of the veil
of indecency had lifted by the time we returned,
and were able to enjoy another wonderful
community dinner with Marnita and Kevin.
After dinner and a few games, Marnita and Kevin
took Aurora and I out for one of their favorite
activities, ghost hunting. They've been on so
many of the tours, and own so many of the books,
that Marnita is probably the single best tour guide
that Williamsburg could ever hope to employ. We
passed several "Official" ghost tours, but you know
what? You couldn't have paid me to go on one of
those. Our guides were much more fun, and
probably far more knowledgeable!
| This struck me as so anachronistically funny, it was painful. OK, so there's a pop machine at the visitor's center of Colonial Williamsburg. Big deal. Well, someone must have thought it was a bit out of place, so they decided to make it more "period" by putting a giant electronic picture of a serving wench on it. Oh yeah...that makes it blend in... |
| Mrs. Randolf, my "owner", grinning like a canary-ripened cat as she orders me around during tea. |
| The brilliant and honest cook from the Randolph house. I want to grow up and be her children! She's a classically trained chef who loves sweets, bread, and making everything by hand... Makes me drool just thinking about her. |
| Sitting at the table in the Randolph house slave quarters, next to the lovely Ohio couple we laughed with. |
| Aurora's best I-just-pricked-my-finger pose. Good thing Disney couldn't see this. They might have asked for the name back. |
| Deep in conversation with the wigmaker |
| Cabinetmaker's back yard |
| The Apothecary Shop, and a little girl wearing a mop cap like the one I kept begging my children to wear, but no one would agree to. |
We took lots of pictures at well-known haunted places, hoping to come home with proof of a
few "friends". We got some weird things, and some normal things...and I'm not really sure I
know the difference between them. All I do know, is that it was a ridiculous amount of FUN
looking for the little guys. What a thought, to be walking among the spirits of the people who
formed our nation! Even if the "spirits" were only those in my head, it goes a long way to
reminding you that real people did these amazing things. Real humans were able to look
outside of their education and their society - toward something bigger and better. Real
fathers and sons sacrificed their lives to give their children a chance at living in a society they
could only dream of.
Maybe I'm particularly sentimental, maybe I'm merely simple. But to me, that's an
accomplishment that's so enormous, I can barely wrap my feeble brain around it.
Trying to touch base with the spirits of those whose intellect knew no boundaries, seemed a
perfect way to end our dance with Williamsburg. I'm glad we made the time to do it.
few "friends". We got some weird things, and some normal things...and I'm not really sure I
know the difference between them. All I do know, is that it was a ridiculous amount of FUN
looking for the little guys. What a thought, to be walking among the spirits of the people who
formed our nation! Even if the "spirits" were only those in my head, it goes a long way to
reminding you that real people did these amazing things. Real humans were able to look
outside of their education and their society - toward something bigger and better. Real
fathers and sons sacrificed their lives to give their children a chance at living in a society they
could only dream of.
Maybe I'm particularly sentimental, maybe I'm merely simple. But to me, that's an
accomplishment that's so enormous, I can barely wrap my feeble brain around it.
Trying to touch base with the spirits of those whose intellect knew no boundaries, seemed a
perfect way to end our dance with Williamsburg. I'm glad we made the time to do it.