Billburg
My Williamsburg Experience.
I abandoned my Virginia home on February 29th, using the metro to meet the Kfam on their way to Williamsburg. The journey ended before Williamsburg, at a hotel which was not well suited to the 54 young children that we had in the trunk. it didn't help that we met up with the Mfam and the Nfam.
Apparently reasonably well-behaved children are a poor substitute for really quiet air molecules that float around via brownian motion and air currents.
Given that the George Washington ball was coming up, us lame dual-left-footed hooligans wanted to practice. We left the hotel to hit up the practice place. It evaded us. So many times, we were so close, and it slipped away behind the next corner. We played this game for a few minutes before deciding to rather creepily stalk 15-passenger vans. None of them went where we wanted them to go, but we had fun freaking out the drivers and wondering whether they were Jenkins.
After driving about and startling the countryside with our ghastly faces, we happened upon a playground. A real playground, made of wood, and possessing constructs such as a ship, and a castle.
Unfortunately, none of us are nearly as beautiful as Bendis, whom we all knew was a whoopsy, and the Spanish Inquisition threw some obese nudes at us. We died. It seemed like the thing to do at the time, and there was much rejoicing. We ceased to be, joined the choir invisible, pushed up a few daisies, and someone looted our bodies for spare change before munching on an MLT.
After dying, we picked up some crap which ChickFilA labeled "sweet tea" and sipped it back to the hotel, where our families were being told that vomit in the halls was not really the maid's idea of a good time. Very few of my nonexistant children were the source of this trouble, and I had the distinct joy of not having to clean anything up. Ah. I love that joy.
The next day brought us to Powhatan Planation in Williamsburg, but not before John fed the van some Coke to wake it up.
We checked into our condos, which were rather more cushy than expected. Wooted.
After suiting up for the GW ball and performing our ritual of not knowing where to go, we arrived fashionably late at the George Washington Ball. This was the most fancy ball out of the three we went to, which made it unfortunate that it was the first. I had no practice. Despite this, I scored three dances. Not just that, but three dances with three out of the four most gorgeous gals in the entire building. Woot again.
When not dancing, I had my cam handy. One never knows when one will need it next.
The AT-GT was the following day. The AT-GT is a fictional vehicle made famous via Star Wars. It's primary purpose is to torment captives with introductions and announcements. Once the natives are completely restless, they are then subjected to an educational ball, wherein the older siblings learn the dances they didn't know at the GW ball.
Later during that same week was a game of minigolf in which the scores of 4/6 players were 34 and 35. That's for nine holes.
Hannah was fairly proud of one shot she made. Until the next few players knocked it far away, turning her 2 into a 4. The worst score of the game was made by the player who was not particularly interested in playing. 8. Victoria came in second, with a 7 on one hole.
Besides balls, one of the core elements of Williamsburg was the daily treks through Colonial Williamsburg. CW contains a number of cute little shops, restaurants, old houses, and piles of horse poo.
Most times, the Williamsburg walking posse consisted of myself, Brennan, Jesse, Mathias, Sarah, Victoria, Alessandra, and Hannah. There were times when we traveled with the fams, but those memories have less emotional appeal.
One of the delightful highlights was Dean Shostak's concert in which he played a number of unusual instruments, including the glass armonica, a glass violin, and a pocket violin. The glass armonica was invented by Benjamin Franklin. If this were not so, Dean would undoubtedly find it more difficult to hold his concerts in Colonial Williamsburg. The glass violin is a technical curiousity, as nearly all forms of glass are far too weak to hold violin strings taut enough to play. A Japanese glass company worked (and failed a few times) to create the glass violin, and Dean has one.
The combination of historical interest, loving friends, and pleasant weather was simply wonderful. These people are some of my favorite people ever to walk the face of the earth, and spending time with them is an invaluable privilege, for which I am grateful.
The entire experience was, in a word, refreshing. It was like jumping in a mountain stream after carrying heavy bags of trash in the hot sun for hours. It was like playing an instrument after months of silent hands. It was like Sierra Mist. Yeah, it's kinda like that.
I abandoned my Virginia home on February 29th, using the metro to meet the Kfam on their way to Williamsburg. The journey ended before Williamsburg, at a hotel which was not well suited to the 54 young children that we had in the trunk. it didn't help that we met up with the Mfam and the Nfam.
Apparently reasonably well-behaved children are a poor substitute for really quiet air molecules that float around via brownian motion and air currents.
Given that the George Washington ball was coming up, us lame dual-left-footed hooligans wanted to practice. We left the hotel to hit up the practice place. It evaded us. So many times, we were so close, and it slipped away behind the next corner. We played this game for a few minutes before deciding to rather creepily stalk 15-passenger vans. None of them went where we wanted them to go, but we had fun freaking out the drivers and wondering whether they were Jenkins.
After driving about and startling the countryside with our ghastly faces, we happened upon a playground. A real playground, made of wood, and possessing constructs such as a ship, and a castle.
Unfortunately, none of us are nearly as beautiful as Bendis, whom we all knew was a whoopsy, and the Spanish Inquisition threw some obese nudes at us. We died. It seemed like the thing to do at the time, and there was much rejoicing. We ceased to be, joined the choir invisible, pushed up a few daisies, and someone looted our bodies for spare change before munching on an MLT.
After dying, we picked up some crap which ChickFilA labeled "sweet tea" and sipped it back to the hotel, where our families were being told that vomit in the halls was not really the maid's idea of a good time. Very few of my nonexistant children were the source of this trouble, and I had the distinct joy of not having to clean anything up. Ah. I love that joy.
The next day brought us to Powhatan Planation in Williamsburg, but not before John fed the van some Coke to wake it up.
We checked into our condos, which were rather more cushy than expected. Wooted.
After suiting up for the GW ball and performing our ritual of not knowing where to go, we arrived fashionably late at the George Washington Ball. This was the most fancy ball out of the three we went to, which made it unfortunate that it was the first. I had no practice. Despite this, I scored three dances. Not just that, but three dances with three out of the four most gorgeous gals in the entire building. Woot again.
When not dancing, I had my cam handy. One never knows when one will need it next.
The AT-GT was the following day. The AT-GT is a fictional vehicle made famous via Star Wars. It's primary purpose is to torment captives with introductions and announcements. Once the natives are completely restless, they are then subjected to an educational ball, wherein the older siblings learn the dances they didn't know at the GW ball.
Later during that same week was a game of minigolf in which the scores of 4/6 players were 34 and 35. That's for nine holes.
Hannah was fairly proud of one shot she made. Until the next few players knocked it far away, turning her 2 into a 4. The worst score of the game was made by the player who was not particularly interested in playing. 8. Victoria came in second, with a 7 on one hole.
Besides balls, one of the core elements of Williamsburg was the daily treks through Colonial Williamsburg. CW contains a number of cute little shops, restaurants, old houses, and piles of horse poo.
Most times, the Williamsburg walking posse consisted of myself, Brennan, Jesse, Mathias, Sarah, Victoria, Alessandra, and Hannah. There were times when we traveled with the fams, but those memories have less emotional appeal.
One of the delightful highlights was Dean Shostak's concert in which he played a number of unusual instruments, including the glass armonica, a glass violin, and a pocket violin. The glass armonica was invented by Benjamin Franklin. If this were not so, Dean would undoubtedly find it more difficult to hold his concerts in Colonial Williamsburg. The glass violin is a technical curiousity, as nearly all forms of glass are far too weak to hold violin strings taut enough to play. A Japanese glass company worked (and failed a few times) to create the glass violin, and Dean has one.
The combination of historical interest, loving friends, and pleasant weather was simply wonderful. These people are some of my favorite people ever to walk the face of the earth, and spending time with them is an invaluable privilege, for which I am grateful.
The entire experience was, in a word, refreshing. It was like jumping in a mountain stream after carrying heavy bags of trash in the hot sun for hours. It was like playing an instrument after months of silent hands. It was like Sierra Mist. Yeah, it's kinda like that.