To Fredericksburg ... and beyond!

Our Saturday plans to visit the Pope-Leighy House in Alexandria were shelved due to Jordan and Elle's swine flu outbreak (just kidding, but they are sick enough that they wanted nothing to do with tourism). Instead, your intrepid bloggers took an opportunity to cross some other sites off the list by heading east to Fredericksburg, a town we typically drive straight through on the way toward Rt. 95 and the northeast corridor. It was a validating trip, mostly because we now know why we typically drive straight through.

Ben noticed that, yet again, getting anywhere from Charlottesville involves a long trek through Hickville, USA. Travelin' bovine populated our route.

First on our list of Fredericksburg Must-Dos: acquaint ourselves with the visitor's center bathrooms and plot ways to avoid the Mary Washington University graduation festivities that we hadn't planned for.

At Kenmore, Betty Washington's 1771 home, we indulged our inner nerds by learning about 18th century plaster restoration, the perils of loaning the state ample money for ammunition factories, and the clear hierarchy of various woods in home construction in the Rappahannock River valley.

Lovely kitchen building, huh?

Just outside Kenmore, on what appeared to our Massachusetts eyes as a town common, was a majestic statue, too important to ignore. "Who is that noble fellow?" we asked. "The namesake of thy home county, Benjamin," answered the wispy clouds.

Goodness gracious! Hugh Mercer, Revolutionary War hero and hometown Fredericksburg boy, died in Princeton during the war (think: right in front of the columns at the Battlefield) and is enshrined here near his apothecary. This should bring great comfort to all the Mercer County lovers in my life, especially the Middlesex County resident-traitors who spent their Saturday grilling for Mercer types and had the pleasure of meeting Connie Mercer (probably at the same time we saw the grand statue of her ancestor!). Very cyclic, Mercer-centric experience.

Across the river from Fredericksburg in Stafford County, we drove through what was the tobacco plantation where George Washington grew up. There isn't much left to peer at, except maybe the folks we saw tossing a disc. And how could we neglect to document the fences?

No cherry trees to be found, alas. We can imagine young George, though, running through these fields and learning life's great lessons.

By this point, it was getting down right steamy in the Commonwealth, but we had one more stop in order to thoroughly understand Fredericksburg: Chatham Manor, a sprawling plantation contemporary to Kenmore, now owned by the NPS.

During the Civil War, Chatham was occupied by Union forces, who used the study on the first floor to house their horses, and the yard to bury the dead. This is where Clara Barton tended the infirm, and where we were given a private, extensive tour upstairs by a lovely, enthusiastic NPS ranger, Jim. He could smell our minimal interest about a mile away, and took great efforts to teach us about the 1920s transformations of the 1771 home, tell us about the distance cannon balls could cover (almost two miles!), and reminisce about the loss of his childhood icebox to encroaching modernity. No photos, because we were in private quarters, but it was a neat, stiflingly hot experience, which we ducked out of when an even more eager Civil War buff showed up to engage Jim's real passion.

Ben, you've been warned! See that muddy Rappahannock in the distance? That's where you'll end up if you play on the cannons! Chatham's twentieth century owners were passionate about their gardens, and the columbines swayed happily in the river breeze.

Finally, when in Rome on a hot summer's day, order the Ocean Water! We're lucky there aren't any Sonic outlets close by, or it would be blue mouths for us far too often...

Funventures are good opportunities for Ice Cream for Dinner (tm) evenings, so we split a knock-off Blizzard. It just wasn't the same, but DQ ain't got nothin' on Ocean Water!

In conclusion, we send our thanks to H1N1, which allowed us to blow off previous plans and explore Fredericksburg, which we never really need to visit again. Also, thanks to Big Red, which accepted our fair Benjamin for fall admission to a masters program, just days after his boss at UVa discussed a hefty promotion with increased responsibility.... Oh the decisions! While all you out there celebrate Mother's Day, we'll be mulling and graphing. ;-) And maybe we'll attempt to enjoy this uncharacteristically fine, sunny and breezy day considering, all our options.