After a weekend of bossing around the men with machines, Mama decided that we would spend Sunday roadtripping down the lusty curves of our favorite country roads to Thomas Jefferson’s personal retreat, Poplar Forest. The destination proved totally appropriate as the removal of a bunch of junk trees in our own backyard has revealed our own small tulip poplar stand, ringing a clearing in our woods. TJ himself called the Tulip Poplar “The Juno of our Groves” when he sent some seeds on to a friend in Paris, and we too are enamored of them since their yellow flower will be a favorite nectar source of our beloved yet-to-arrive-due-to-ongoing-unseasonable-cold-weather bees. The afternoon, glorious, our little family borne about the grounds of the old estate like seeds on the breeze, and we are certain Jefferson would have approved of our continental picnic of crusty bread, various charcuteries, olives, a ripe pear, Cowgirl Creamery cheeses- favorites Mt. Tam and Red Hawk, and, of course, cold rosé. In short, a perfect day for Mamas and everyone. Poplar Forest is to Monticello what Rockaway is to East Hampton- more casual, less people, a little rough around the edges, but if you know what you’re looking for and enjoy simple pleasures, it’s just as good (if maybe not a little better), vegetable garden small and do-able, serpentine wall in elegant decay, slightly falling down.
Just spent the weekend with my Mama, cooking and dancing and eating and getting dirty and doing projects and toasting champagne and I just love her so. Daddy found this picture, and it’s a pretty perfect Mama’s day snap- Mama’s holding my just-born cousin Charlotte- with my Grandmother and Charlotte’s Mama in the background. She’s just perfect in black frye boots and a denim maxi skirt that would pass muster on any L train, and me, I’m kicking it hard in turquoise chuck taylors (my brother picked them out and we had matching pairs). We are so much the same, she and I, and I am so thankful for that all of the time. Love you so, Mama.