Asheville Day 2: Biltmore Estate redux

In the middle of November 2003, Chris asked me if I had ever seen the Biltmore estate. I answered with a derisive snort, NO. For, lo, I looked down my nose at such extravagance, I found it to be OBSCENE. But he asked if I wanted to go and I'm never one to shirk an adventure, so we went.

[You should probably know that he had already asked me to marry him at this point. You know those conversations, the quiet private kind where there's no ring and no fanfare--the kind I like best. So we already knew that we were going to spend our lives together, we just hadn't made it official for the Families.]

Anyway, up to Asheville we went. We met up with his Aunt Nancy, his mom and his sister. We drove around the mountain, we saw the camper, we drove through town and checked in to a hotel for the night, the 5 of us (I maintain Chris' bravery, he was staying in a room with 4 Women. He's one fearless MAN.)

The next day was cloudy and cool and we drove in to Biltmore. He was acting really weird...so I walked on ahead of him. (I know. I should have suspected something, but I didn't. What can I say...Chris is just weird some times.) Anyway, he asked me to walk around the Italian garden with him, which I did, and I finally asked him why he was so weird and he asked me if I really wanted to know and I said, yeeees. And he pulled the ring out of his pocket. I was so STUNNED he could have pushed me INTO the reflecting pools and I would not have been more surprised. He asked me if I would marry him and I said, YES--of COURSE.

The rest of the day at Biltmore was a blur. I had very little memory of the gardens or the house--I remembered the Christmas trees...but not really anything else of the house. Oddly enough, Chris said the same thing when we were planning the trip--he didn't really remember anything after the proposal. (That said, I would just like to say, I have no idea why men get so nervous about the official proposal, DUDE--You knew my ANSWER.)

And so we were going back to Biltmore. I'm a little more relaxed now. I still think it's extravagant, but it's more a head-shaking, eye-rolling reaction now rather than my previous snorts of disgust.

We decided to go and see some stuff this time around that we hadn't gotten to the last time. We planned to start with the Farm and kitchen gardens, then do the House and the ornamental gardens. It was cloudy and rain was coming, we were hoping to get as much outside stuff done before the rain hit.

The Farm was great, we were the only people down there, and the Boy was totally relaxed in his stroller.

Stripes and argyle go together, right? It's combinations like these that lead Chris to say, "Dude. Your mama dresses you funny." I think it's awesome.

By the time we were sifting through the kitchen gardens, the rain had started falling and we decided to head back to the house in the hopes that the Boy would fall asleep.

In the time it took us to drive from the Farm to the parking lots for the main house, the heavens opened and the deluge had started, complete with thunder and lightening.

We parked, put the Boy in the baby bjorn and trotted down to catch the shuttle to the house. It was surprisingly crowded.

Anyway, we got in and began to walk through. It was actually really cool with the storm going on outside, the inside is almost gothic-y (I'm not sure if that's a word, but it felt like being in a Radcliffe novel, if that helps you). Anyway, we went through the older rooms, and the newly restored rooms and then down the basement and it all took about 2 hours and by the end of it, we were all exhausted and the Boy was STILL AWAKE. I had hoped he would fall asleep but there was WAY too much going on, but he hung out contentedly in the baby bjorn just looking around.

By the end of it, I was starving and the Boy in need of lunch, a clean diaper and a NAP. So we headed into the former stables, which they've made over into a restaurant. I had the veggie burger and the Boy ate my pickle, the fries and some quiche which Chris had ordered. He got a clean diaper and some formula and he went back into the baby bjorn and we walked outside for the gardens. It wasn't raining anymore, but I really wanted him to nap, so I went to find a park bench to rock him to sleep.


20 minutes later, I won.

He was incredibly heavy, but he so seldom falls asleep on top of me anymore, that I was actually enjoying it. I kept him wrapped up so that the stray raindrops wouldn't wake him and we moseyed on down to the ornamental gardens.

[I just noticed that the Italian garden is in the background of this picture...on the left side is where Chris proposed. This ends your happy walking tour of the history of the founding of Burnstopia.]

Anyway, when we were here the first time, none of the gardens were in bloom, obviously, and I had said at the time that I would love to see them in bloom.

We were too late for the tulips and daffodils, and too early for the roses, but there were some pansies and foxglove and the wisteria was gorgeous.

We managed to walk through the walled gardens and the conservatory/greenhouses and through most of the azalea gardens before the Boy woke up. And now some pictures...my fingers are sore from all the typity type typing.

That's me and the Boy in the Walled Garden.

The Rose Garden.

The Azalea Garden, with my big hair to give you some perspective on how big those azaleas were.

The bridge from the Last of the Mohicans (it was gorgeous, but it wasn't sunny enough to get the full reflection.)

Whimsy, remember when you were here and I told how wisteria will take over everything if you let it? Exhibit A. And this is trained to grow over the trellis. It's pretty, yes, the smell was amazing! Absolutely lovely.

Anyway. We finished in the gardens around 3:30ish and decided to call it a day. We drove out through the deer park and the grounds. We saw sheep, newly sheared, grazing with their lambs and it was beautiful. The next hill had cattle with the calves and then the Boy started to melt down. We brought out the trusty camera toy but it was a bit beyond for that to work.

We got back to the hotel, got the Boy bathed, fed and down for the night and Chris and I started to talk about what to do for dinner ourselves. Now, I'm pretty sure that you're all going to be skeptical about the story that I'm about to relate, but I'm asking you to trust me on this one.

Some friends had recommended a couple of restaurants for us to try while we were in Asheville but they were downtown and at this point, the Boy sleeping was the priority so we were really looking for take out. Chris jumped on to Chowhounds and searched for Asheville. There was a post for a Thai restaurant that was currently housed in an Exxon gas station but it was getting great reviews. I told Chris THAT'S what I want. Now. Please. You bring me this Thai food.

I called in a to-go order and he drove out to South Asheville to pick it up. He was gone a looooooong time. But he came back with a bag full of food for under $25. The tofu was fried and crispy and chewy and the sauce...oh my goodness, someone rain down good fortune on the Thai for inventing this sauce. It was a sweet chili sauce with peanuts so it was slightly sweet, spicey and nutty all at once. The pad Thai was so smokey I thought there was bacon in it but there wasn't. More delicious fried tofu (I remain convinced that the Thai are the only people on the entire planet who know how to make tofu delicious), beansprouts and tamarind. I was so happy all I could do was roll my eyes and mumble incoherently through mouthfuls of noodles.

It's pretty hard to top Thai food in your pajamas brought to you by the man you love. Stay tuned for Day 3: Thomas Wolfe's house and a mind-blowing conversation.