Bigbad and I attended the trustee's picnic for the institution he's teaching at. He kept mentioning it was casual. I figured the words trustees and casual didn't go together no matter what the email from the events department said.
Bigbad didn't know to mention it was at Tara (seriously this place was on 900 acres of gorgeousness with his and hers pool houses, clay shooting range, and an obscene amount of black angus grazing), so I neglected to bring my camera. Huge mistake. I stole Bigbad's phone and went crazy taking pictures because geeze this place was sick (and I don't usually use that sort of slang, but it was). As a former co-worker's now-ex used to say: Cool as Cool.
|It was bow tie Thursday. It's become a thing. The women are trying to make millinery Thursdays a thing. Ain't working as well.|
This couple touring the house in front of us was too cute. Bigbad take note: 40 years from now it is imperative that we still hold hands while I yabber on about shutters and inconsequential matters.
But seriously, an estate like this requires me to state the obvious: Old money kicks new money's ass any day of the week. I've been waiting for Bill Gates to adopt me for the past 17 years because I put a lot of energy into fantasizing what I could do with wealth, but now I'm thinking I should have been hoping for a genetic link to a DuPont or McCormick.
|Look who else had visited the house. Surreptitious photo of a photo.|
The house was beautiful with so much art, with a strong preference for American Civil War pieces. There was a chess set with each of the pieces to represent generals and such. My favorite art was actually a Japanese screen covered in holiday postcards from the turn of the century. Random, so of course I loved every bit of it.
New spaces blended well with the old, and it was just so expansive. Stairways tucked into corners and curved up into nurseries and sitting rooms. I loved the choppy floorplan and what has to be some secret hideaway spots. This would be an epic house for a LARP of Clue. They had a freakin' parrot in a conservatory. They had a freakin' room that could be called a conservatory.
I tried to act like I belonged and didn't take pictures of our meal. People were eying me and making sure I had a nametag. I guess these folks don't instagram food shots. Whatever. It was a delicious meal with the most awesome mashed potatoes and usual barbeque picnic fare.
We missed sitting in the smokehouse because we were too busy chatting up one of one of the guys from this band and getting exclusive details about new music. Totally worth it. Bigbad and I told ourselves that we totally played it cool and didn't freak out too much. I mean...thankfully I didn't ask for a dang photo.
I thoroughly enjoyed the evening. When the weather is perfect, scenery is gorgeous, and you get to chill with cool as cool folks, it makes an evening seem like a fairy tale or a dream. And I behaved myself aside from all the cell phone pictures, so if you happen to be a DuPont, please consider befriending me. I'm clever, witty, and know lots of first lines to books. I will let you win checkers or chess and tell you your art work is fab. I'll fill you in on Real Housewife garbage if you share with me dirt on my favorite celebs.
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