If you haven’t read the first post on this trip, you may want to go here first.
I played out the Sam Elliot gator nuggets line in my head a couple of times and imagined the potential reactions of those nearby me. This continued to tempt me to say it out loud, so instead I distracted myself by concentrating on the tram operator’s narrative. Having used the word “inappropriate” with my kids with some regularity lately and knowing that one of them sat next to me, with the potential to bear witness against me if needed, I felt it best to remain silent.
You know, ‘cause otherwise.
And so we wove our way through the plantation as our guide provided various tidbits about the region, the grounds, the buildings, and the Drayton family that established the plantation. The Draytons first settled on the land in 1676 and have maintained ownership of the plantation to this day; in fact, reportedly two members of the original family still reside on the plantation.
After the maze, we boarded another tram, this time for a short ride to the slave quarters.
Each of the houses has been preserved, and the inside of each house has been maintained to represent different time periods. The oldest house represents the 1850s, when many of the structures were built, and the most recent preservation dates to the 1990s, when the last occupants left the house. They’re an interesting study in how the time periods affected both the slaves and the workers who remained on the plantation for generations after slavery was outlawed.
Upon our return, we spent the few final minutes walking and checking out the gift shop located off a lower level of the main house. Much to my disappointment, we didn’t have a chance to tour the main house, but I think the tours and exhibits we did were probably the ones best suited for the age level of our students.
Baby-Girl, who was all “I want to sit with you on the bus, Mommy!” until she realized she had also had the option to sit with a friend, ended up sitting with one of her friends for the return ride as well, which left me with a whole bus seat to myself. It’s been a long, difficult, sleep-deficient year work-wise, so I knew full well there was little hope of not falling asleep on the ride home, despite the potential for embarrassment (I’ve mentioned before that I have a hot-as-I-wanna-be habit of sleeping with my mouth open when I’m sitting up). I put up a valiant attempt at maintaining wakefulness for five minutes or so, and then I slouched down low enough in my seat to give losers a run for their money, and fell asleep. I slept for what I think was the majority of the trip home.
Fortunately for me, Baby-Girl was thoroughly engaged in a game of Who Can Take the Funniest Selfie? and was thoroughly ignorant, I suspect, of her sleeping mother two or three rows up. And even if she was aware and even if she took a picture of me, she’s fortunately not yet social media savvy enough to know what in the world she should have done with the picture.