November 15, 2003 - Clermont, FL
We left Quitman last Thursday, and came to the TTN park here in Clermont where we met the Nelsons (Bill and Carol) again. They left this morning after putting their motorhome in the storage lot, and headed to Tampa. They'll be on a 4-day cruise to someplace, and jokingly call it their "vacation." We'll see pictures of it when they get back I'm sure.
One good house deserves another, and since we were out and about, we drove another 5 miles or so to the Pebble Hill Plantation. When the curator of the Lapham-Patterson House in Thomasville heard we were just poking around, she suggested we might like this place too. When Barb heard the word "plantation," that did it. We were on our way. Now, it was one thing to pay $3 each to get on the property, but another altogether to pay $7 each to get into the house. We skipped the house. The place encompassed 3,000 acres--a very large and moneyed plantation it was! The stable area was incredible, so we could imagine the house was pretty nice too. These pictures are all of the stable area--no kidding! Upper right is the courtyard in the middle of the cow barn, milking barn, and horse stalls. The cow barn is lower left, and the horse stalls on the lower right. Pretty nice digs, eh?
Inside the milking barn and the stables. While they don't have any cows here any more, the stables were in use. The plantation is available for weddings, receptions, and parties of any other sort. For a fee, of course. They have carriages, wagons, and carts that the horses and mules pull. At one time they had a prize herd of Jersey cows that actually came from the island of Jersey off the English coast. The owners were originally the daughter of a wealthy businessman, and then it passed on to another woman. As it turned out, both women were talented, farsighted, and loved the plantation. They were both into horses, and the last owner was also real keen on fox hunting, so there were plenty of hound kennels as well.
I've seen plenty of stalls, but nothing as well built as these. And the tack room had some sculptures of horses that were outstanding.
The last owner was also into polo playing, and could more than hold her own against the guys from what we learned. The pictures we saw of her playing polo didn't have her on that side saddle, either. My older brother Ken played polo for a while, and I wanted to learn and play it too, but then I realized I didn't much like horses, and dropped the idea. Barb is standing by one of the wagons, and from the looks of it, they carried hounds in it as well.
One of the caretakers guessed these oaks to be at least 200 years old, and we had to agree, of course. They were stately and impressive. What a picturesque lane with the oaks providing the shade and the Spanish moss hanging down like that. Obviously, not "Gone With The Wind." And some carriages with dog boxes on the back. When we lived in Alaska, we were used to seeing pickup trucks with dog boxes in the back and the sled up on top of the box, and when I was bear hunting in WA, the dogs were also carried in boxes in the bed of the pickups. Guess that method of packing the pack along has been around for a while.
See that one horse with it's ears perked up? next to that gorgeous oak. It kept calling to me, so we wandered out to visit. Barb wasn't too keen on standing that close, regardless of the fact that I kept pointing out that it was a strict vegetarian, and she'd be safe enough.
A lot of the fences were concrete, which I thought odd, until I remembered the termite problem the South has. And the fact that often the posts would be in standing water, like this one is. Barb's pointing to the moss growing on the concrete.
But alas, even concrete has it's problems as fence material. And then I couldn't help but take a shot of the "driveway" leading to the home from the highway, with it's canopy of oak trees.
A shot of the other end of the driveway, and then one of the mules cooperated and smiled for the camera. What a neat place this was!
One of the side entrances to the "main house," with its covered carriage porch. Now, I can't say as this faucet handle was part of the original plantation, but it sure did fit in with the atmosphere of the place. I think I've see this same faucet handle in Lowes. Pretty good sized clam shell though!
Now, that's the kind of dog that is perfect for RV travel. Never barks, never needs to go out for a walk in the rain before dawn, and eats very little. It was bronze. The front of the house with a huge magnolia tree blocking part of the view. There was no driveway to the front of the house! Only that one side, and at the back I think. Can't you just imagine the string quartet playing softly while the ladies in their full skirts were being waited on by uniformed domestic help? The place comes as close as any to matching my ideal of a southern plantation.
Barb squatted to you could see the "end of the tunnel". This vine covered "tunnel" had openings along one side that allowed entrance to a maze of that short hedge along side. The fence and signs kept out the swimmers and waders, even if it did have a lion at the far end guarding it. Water for the pool came from the lion's mouth. How classy.
Another of those bird faucets, and this clam shell is big enough to have made soup for the whole plantation! Barb likes bearded trees. Fortunately for me, she likes bearded husbands as well.
The vine covered fence (made of brick) is around what turned out to be the tennis court. What a beautiful place. The tennis court doesn't look like it's been used in a while, and no net was visible, but the lawn was still very manicured.
The family cemetery. And along side it, inside the fence, was what looked to Barb like a potting shed of sorts. It had benches and a trough of water, and some empty flower pots. And it had this window that had vines growing on both sides of it! It has character, don't you think?
Every time I'd try to get a shot of this huge bumblebee, he'd stick his head back into a flower, and all I could get was his butt. Sorry. Even the favored dogs were buried here.
From one graveyard to another. Left to right are a '51 Cadillac, a '34 Packard (my personal favorite), and a '48 Lincoln Continental.
In the center garage in the photo on the left is a '60 Bentley, and on the right going from left to right is a '54 Ford wagon (used to run errands at the "home" in Kentucky), a '68 Chevy wagon (used to bring guests from the train station), and the piece-de-resistance, a 1964 Plymouth Valiant. The personal favorite of the owner (who died in 1978) who drove herself to town in it. Now, if that's not the ultimate symbol of real wealth. When you're so wealthy you can drive anything you want, and you chose something ultimately practical (that slant 6 cylinder engine is bullet proof!) and small enough to be easy to handle. What a kick. I'll be we'd have fallen in love with her if we'd met her.
Obviously, Noah's Ark. Barb did this all by herself. I was tuckered out and had a knee bothering me so I waited patiently while she enjoyed the murals. The two cows here are Jersey's, and photos of them are on display in the welcome center. They won all kinds of awards. The horses probably are famous too, but I couldn't tell. The only animals I found strange were the Dalmatian zebras.
On the way home, Barb solved a mystery for us. We'd seen "pine straw" for sale and wondered what it was for sure, and then I'd spied a sign advertising pine straw balers. Looks like they use pine needles (of which there are plenty) for mulch around their plants like we used bark in the Pacific Northwest and other parts of the country. And here was are again at this great RV park in Quitman, GA; two years ago we were here in June and there were turtles everywhere, one of which graced us with her presence by laying her eggs under our fifth wheel. It's a gorgeous, quiet RV park with lots of sites, space, and walking trails. We returned caused we like it so much. The manager, Norm Morris, is great too, and keeps the place splotless. The center motorhome is ours, and in the middle of the pond was a little alligator sunning himself on the floating tire protection for the fountain.