#Monticello Homes

[redlow-group-blogs]

How to Choose the Best Monticello Home for Your Lifestyle

Choosing a home is about more than just location; it’s about finding the perfect fit for your lifestyle and future plans. Monticello offers diverse housing options, each with unique benefits. Here’s a guide to help you navigate the choices and select the home that best aligns with your lifestyle.

Assessing Your Needs and Preferences

Consider your daily routines, family needs, and personal interests. Key factors to evaluate:

Family Size: Is the home spacious enough for your family to live comfortably?

Proximity to Schools: Families with children may prioritize access to quality schools and child-friendly neighborhoods.

Community Amenities: Look for nearby parks, gyms, or recreational facilities if you enjoy an active lifestyle.

Privacy and Noise Level: Determine if a quieter, more private setting or a bustling urban atmosphere suits you best.

Monticello Neighborhoods to Explore

Monticello has neighborhoods catering to various lifestyles:

Downtown Monticello: Ideal for those who enjoy a lively atmosphere, with access to restaurants, shops, and entertainment.

Suburban Areas: Great for families seeking a quieter, residential environment with parks and schools nearby.

Rural Outskirts: Perfect for those desiring ample land, scenic views, or an agricultural lifestyle.

Click here to read more

[thaliawashere]

Green painted floors at Jefferson's Monticello.

[ourcaptainisabelle]

Jeffersons Monticello was the 1800's version of Smart Home, and you can't tell my otherwise.

A house full of new revolutionary inventions designed to make life easier? (also, most of them invented by Jefferson himself!)

[collincountymagazine]

FOX4: Plano woman shot ex-husband after finding him on the phone with 'illegal woman,' affidavit says

Fox4 newsman Alex Boyer reports Merridith Nunley, 38, is charged with the murder of her ex-husband, 55-year-old David Nunley, who was shot in the chest. She told police she shot David after finding out he was talking to an “illegal woman,” according to the affidavit. Subscribe on YouTube to FOX 4: https://www.youtube.com/fox4news?sub_… FOX4 Dallas news, weather, sports and traffic from KDFW FOX…

[notquinnsea]

BEYOND MONTICELLO - CHAPTER ONE

| A Thomas Jefferson x Reader fanfic |

The air was warm, carrying the faint, earthy scent of fresh soil and tobacco, as cheers rippled across Norfolk’s crowded streets. People from all walks of life had gathered, eager to welcome Mr. Thomas Jefferson home at last. After years away serving as the U.S. minister to France, he had finally returned to Virginia.

Thomas barely heard the applause or the calls of his name. His attention was elsewhere, scanning the sea of faces, searching for someone familiar. The celebration was for him, but he had little patience for the ceremony. Finally, his eyes landed on the man he’d been hoping to see: James Madison, standing near the dock with his usual calm, almost unreadable expression.

Thomas’s face broke into a broad smile as he strode forward, clasping James’s shoulders with both hands. “James, my friend! It’s been far too long. How’s Dolly? And you—are you well?”

James returned the handshake, his lips curving into a faint but sincere smile. “We’re all doing just fine, Thomas. Now hurry—we need to leave if we want to reach Mr. Washington’s estate in Philadelphia before nightfall.”

Thomas hesitated, his smile dimming just slightly. He respected George Washington deeply, even admired him in many ways, but there was a shadow of reluctance in his thoughts. The General’s circle had grown considerably in recent years, and one man in particular—a brash, ambitious immigrant—had become both prominent and divisive. The thought of meeting him face-to-face unsettled Thomas more than he cared to admit. Still, he pushed the unease aside and followed James to the waiting carriage.

_____________________________________

Philadelphia – Washington’s Estate

The hum of conversation filled the room, blending with the clink of dishes and the soft crackle of the fire. Y/N L/N balanced a tray of steaming tea with practiced ease as she weaved through the room. Her uncle, George Washington, sat at the head of the room, his presence as commanding here as it was on the battlefield. Nearby, Alexander Hamilton paced by the fireplace, gesturing emphatically as he launched into yet another tirade, while Edmund Randolph and Henry Knox chatted in low voices by the window.

“Honestly, Mr. President,” Alexander huffed, throwing up his hands for emphasis, “it’s intolerable! John Adams absent again. Does he even know what a cabinet meeting is?”

George raised an eyebrow but remained silent, sipping his tea as if to signal he was immune to Alexander’s dramatics. Y/N smiled to herself as she reached her uncle’s side, setting the fresh tray in front of him. “More tea, Uncle George?” she asked softly.

“Thank you, my dear,” he replied, his tone warm despite the faint exhaustion in his eyes.

Alexander turned sharply, his attention snapping to Y/N as if she’d addressed him. “Miss L/N,” he said, gesturing broadly with his teacup, “do you see what we’re up against? A Vice President who’s practically invisible! A man who, by all appearances, feels above the call of duty.”

Y/N carefully handed him a cup, schooling her face into polite neutrality. “I imagine you’ve expressed your feelings on the matter, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Frequently and with great flair,” he shot back, taking a sip.

Y/N straightened, glancing toward her uncle. “Do you know when Mr. Madison and Mr. Jefferson are supposed to arrive?”

“They’re already on their way,” George said, setting his cup down. “If James’s punctuality holds, they should be here by evening.”

“Thomas Jefferson,” Alexander muttered darkly, his tone thick with disdain. He slammed his teacup onto the saucer with unnecessary force. “Mark my words, Miss L/N: he’ll charm everyone in the room while opposing every sensible policy this administration has built.”

Y/N tilted her head, the corner of her mouth curving slightly. “A man with such a reputation sounds fascinating. I look forward to meeting him.”

Alexander opened his mouth, no doubt ready with a retort, but George’s firm voice cut through the air before he could speak. “Enough, Alexander. You’d do well to save your energy for the meeting.”

Y/N stifled a laugh, moving to refill cups for Edmund and Henry. The late afternoon sun spilled through the tall windows, casting long golden shadows across the room. As she glanced outside, a carriage pulled into view, kicking up a trail of dust. The other cabinet members have arrived.

_____________________________________

The hours dragged on, the heated back-and-forth between Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton showing no sign of slowing. The rest of the cabinet had long since grown tired of the debate. Henry Knox sat with his arms crossed, stifling a yawn. Edmund Randolph absently traced patterns on the table with his finger. James Madison looked like he was calculating how long he could keep pinching the bridge of his nose before it became permanent.

George Washington, seated at the head of the room, glanced at his niece, Y/N. She was still diligently scribbling notes, though her pen moved slower now, her focus waning under the weight of exhaustion. George sighed, rubbing his temple as he addressed her.

“My dear,” he said gently, though his voice carried over the noise, “you should retire for the evening. Your aunt has already gone to bed. A lady shouldn’t have to endure this nonsense any longer than necessary.”

Y/N set her pen down and looked up, a faint smile gracing her lips though there was a hint of exasperation in her eyes. “I’m fine, Uncle. Someone has to record this… productive discussion,” she said, her tone light but laced with irony. “And besides, if things get out of hand, I’m probably the fastest to run for help.”

Knox chuckled at that, but George remained unimpressed. “Regardless, you’ve done enough. Off you go now.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing between her uncle and the still-arguing Jefferson and Hamilton, before deciding not to push further. “Goodnight, Uncle. Gentlemen.” She nodded politely to the room as she left.

The door had barely clicked shut behind her when Alexander’s voice rose again. “Mr. Jefferson, if you think this country can thrive on dreams and farming alone—”

“And if you think banks and tariffs will feed the people, Mr. Hamilton,” Thomas interrupted coolly, “then it’s no wonder you see this nation as little more than your personal ledger.”

“Enough!” George’s voice cut through the room like a whip, the sheer force of it silencing everyone. He rose to his feet, his gaze sharp as he looked between the two men. “This meeting is over. We’ll reconvene tomorrow when everyone’s heads are clearer.”

Knox and Randolph didn’t need to be told twice. They stood immediately, murmuring polite goodnights as they made for the door. Madison followed close behind, pausing only to give George a slight bow before disappearing into the hall.

Hamilton lingered, his jaw tight as though he was biting back another retort, but under George’s unrelenting stare, he eventually muttered, “Goodnight, Mr. President,” and left.

George turned his attention to Thomas, who remained seated, rubbing at his temples. “Mr. Jefferson,” George said, his tone softening just slightly, “you’re welcome to stay here tonight. You live farther than the rest, and it’s too dark to travel safely.”

Thomas hesitated, glancing toward the emptying room. “I appreciate the offer,” he said finally, his voice subdued. “Thank you, Mr. President.”

As the others filed out, Thomas pushed himself to his feet. He moved slowly, fatigue etched into every line of his face. His gaze drifted toward Y/N’s empty chair, and something in him stirred—a flicker of curiosity, perhaps more. He hadn’t properly acknowledged her during the meeting, but now her absence left the room feeling oddly incomplete.

His thoughts were interrupted when George cleared his throat. Thomas straightened, nodding to the President before heading toward the stairs. But as he passed the hall leading to the kitchen, he stopped. Y/N was there, speaking softly with one of the housemaids as she helped clear away the tea service.

He stepped closer, feeling his exhaustion more keenly now but unwilling to let the night end without a word. “Miss L/N,” he said, his voice low but steady.

Y/N turned, startled at first but quickly recovering. “Mr. Jefferson,” she replied with a polite nod. “You’ve had a long day. I didn’t expect you to still be awake.”

Thomas managed a faint smile, though his usual charm was muted by weariness. “It seems I’ll be staying here tonight. I thought it only proper to introduce myself before retiring.”

Her brow arched slightly, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips. “Well, I appreciate your sense of propriety. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jefferson.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss L/N,” he said, though his voice carried more sincerity than flair. For a moment, he considered saying more—something clever, something to match the sharpness in her eyes—but the weight of the day pressed too heavily on him.

Instead, he inclined his head. “Goodnight, Miss L/N.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Jefferson,” she said, watching as he turned and disappeared down the hall.

In the quiet of the guest room, Thomas loosened his cravat and sank onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. He couldn’t deny the intrigue she stirred in him—a woman who seemed as sharp as she was composed. But for now, his thoughts faded, overtaken by exhaustion. He let his head fall back against the pillows, the noise of the evening giving way to silence as sleep claimed him.

Authors note - Please tell me what to fix if I need so, Ive written before but never posted.

[whencyclopedia]

Thomas Jefferson

Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) was an American lawyer, statesman, philosopher, and a Founding Father of the United States. A prominent figure of the American Revolution, he wrote the Declaration of Independence and later served as the first secretary of state, the second vice president, and the third president of the United States (served 1801-1809).

Early Life

Thomas Jefferson was born on 13 April 1743 at Shadwell Plantation in Albemarle County, Virginia. He was the third of ten children born to Peter Jefferson, a wealthy planter and land surveyor, and Jane Randolph Jefferson, a daughter of one of Virginia's most influential families. When Peter Jefferson died in 1757, 14-year-old Thomas inherited 5,000 acres of land as well as 60 enslaved people. From 1758 to 1760, he was privately tutored by Reverend James Maury before going on to the colonial capital of Williamsburg to attend the College of William & Mary. In his first year at college, he spent lavishly on parties, horses, and clothing, but he would soon regret this "showy style of living" (Boles, 18). His second year, therefore, was much more studious; he would apparently spend 15 hours a day at his studies, pausing only to exercise or to practice his violin.

The studious Jefferson soon became the protégé of mathematics professor William Small, who he would fondly remember as "the first truly enlightened or scientific man" he had ever met (Boles, 17). Small introduced Jefferson to the two other great intellectuals in Williamsburg – law professor George Wythe and Lt. Governor Francis Fauquier – and, at their weekly dinner parties, the four men would discuss politics and philosophy, greatly influencing the young Jefferson's political and intellectual development.

After completing his formal studies in 1762, Jefferson remained in Williamsburg to study law under Wythe and was admitted to the Virginia bar five years later in 1767. In 1768, he was elected to the House of Burgesses, representing Albemarle County. That same year, he began construction of a new home atop an 868-foot-high (265 m) mountain that overlooked his plantation. Called Monticello – Italian for "little mountain" – the house became the passion of Jefferson's life, and he would spend the next several decades designing and renovating it. The actual labor, of course, was mostly performed by his slaves; over the course of his lifetime, Jefferson owned approximately 600 enslaved people, most of whom were born into slavery on his property.

In 1772, after several failed romantic pursuits, Jefferson was finally married to the beautiful young widow Martha Wayles Skelton. Five years his junior, Martha shared his passions for literature and music; indeed, they often played music together – she on the harpsichord, he on the violin. The couple would have six children, only two of whom – Martha 'Patsy' (1772-1836) and Mary 'Polly' (1778-1804) – would survive to adulthood. When Jefferson's father-in-law died in 1773, he and Martha inherited 11,000 acres of land and 135 more enslaved people. By then, Jefferson had become involved with Virginia's struggle against Great Britain. Parliament's attempts to tax the colonists without their consent were vehemently opposed by the American Patriots, who saw such taxes as violations of their 'rights as Englishmen'. In 1774, Jefferson argued as much in his A Summary View of the Rights of British America. In it, he asserted that the colonies had the right to govern themselves, that they were tied to the English king only through voluntary bonds and that Parliament had no right to interfere in their affairs. This work earned him recognition as a Patriot leader in Virginia and led to his appointment as a delegate to the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia in the spring of 1775.

Continue reading...

[fuck-my-sad-life]

THE LETTERS.

"From Angelica Schuyler Church

Down Place Nov. 19. 1788

Idleness my dear Sir we have long been told “is the root of all evil” and I am an instance that it is the cause of inattention to those one most values. It seems an age since I have had a little conversation with you. Catherine is returned to me very much improved, for that and many other kindnesses my thanks are due. I sail for America early in the spring. If I should meet you there it wou’d give me pleasure, indeed my dear Sir, it would very much encrease my happiness. The adoption of the new constitution excepted I can tell you nothing that may please you. A decided taste for Luxuries, and no inclination to acquit their debts, are not traits in their conduct likely to please those who are solicitous for the Honor and welfare of Americans.

Kings are not usually very wise; ours is afflicted by the greatest scourge of heaven. He is quite mad, and often fancys himself General Washington. Parliment meets to day, undecided what is to be done in this exigency. Your friend Mrs. Cosway is confined to her study, and not to be tempted to visit the country which is still agreeable. I beg you will remember me to Miss Jefferson and Polly, Mr. Church and Catherine unite in compliments, and I hope that you will sometimes think of me with affection, because I wish it. Is that a good reason? Whether you take or refuse my advice, be persuaded that I am with affectionate wishes your friend,

AC"

"To Angelica Schuyler Church

Germantown Nov. 27. 1793.

I have received, my very good friend, your kind letter of Aug. 19. with the extract from that of La Fayette, for whom my heart has been constantly bleeding. The influence of the United States has been put into action, as far as it could be either with decency or effect. But I fear that distance and difference of principle give little hold to Genl. Washington on the jailors of La Fayette. However his friends may be assured that our zeal has not been inactive. Your letter gives me the first information that our dear friend Madame de Corny has been, as to her fortune, among the victims of the times. Sad times indeed! and much lamented victim! I know no country where the remains of a fortune could place her so much at her ease as this, and where public esteem is so attached to worth, regardless of wealth. But our manners, and the state of society here are so different from those to which her habits have been formed, that she would lose more perhaps in that scale.—And Madame Cosway in a convent! I knew that, to much goodness of heart, she joined enthusiasm and religion: but I thought that very enthusiasm would have prevented her from shutting up her adoration of the god of the Universe within the walls of a cloyster; that she would rather have sought the mountain-top. How happy should I be that it were mine that you, she and Mde. de Corny would seek. You say indeed that you are coming to America. But I know that means New York. In the mean time I am going to Virginia. I have at length been able to fix that to the beginning of the new year. I am then to be liberated from the hated occupations of politics, and to sink into the bosom of my family, my farm and my books. I have my house to build, my feilds to form, and to watch for the happiness of those who labor for mine. I have one daughter married to a man of science, sense, virtue, and competence; in whom indeed I have nothing more to wish. They live with me. If the other shall be as fortunate in due process of time, I shall imagine myself as blessed as the most blessed of the patriarchs. Nothing could then withdraw my thoughts a moment from home, but the recollection of my friends abroad. I often put the question Whether yourself and Kitty will ever come to see your friends at Monticello? But it is my affection, and not my experience of things, which has leave to answer. And I am determined to believe the answer; because, in that belief, I find I sleep sounder and wake more chearful. En attendant, god bless you; accept the homage of my sincere & constant affection.

Th: Jefferson"

I LOVE THEM AHHHHH (This drawing too me n hr n a half)

[fatehbaz]

Americans [...] would sip the rich cocoa as a hot drink. Cocoa made its way to North America on the same ships that transported rum and sugar from the Caribbean and South America [...] and was heavily reliant on the labor of enslaved Africans throughout the diaspora. [...] [B]y the early 1700s, Boston, Newport, New York and Philadelphia were processing cocoa into chocolate to export and to sell domestically. Chocolate was popular in the coffeehouse culture and was processed for sale and consumption by enslaved laborers in the North. Farther south, in Virginia, cocoa was becoming [...] so popular that it is estimated that approximately one-third of Virginia’s elite was consuming cocoa in some form or another. For the wealthy, this treat was sipped multiple times a week; for others it was out of reach. [...]

The art of chocolate-making – roasting beans, grinding pods onto a stone over a small flame – was a labor-intensive task. An enslaved cook would have had to roast the cocoa beans on the open hearth, shell them by hand, grind the nibs on a heated chocolate stone, and then scrape the raw cocoa, add milk or water, cinnamon, nutmeg or vanilla, and serve it piping hot.

---

One of the first chocolatiers in the Colonies was an enslaved cook named Caesar.

Born in 1732, Caesar was the chef at Stratford Hall, the home of the Lees of Virginia, and in his kitchen sat one of only three chocolate stones in the Colony. The other two were located at the governor’s palace and at the Carter family estate, belonging to one of the wealthiest families in Virginia. Caesar was responsible for cooking multiple meals a day for the Lees and any free person who came to visit. [...]

---

The work was oppressive in the plantation kitchens at Christmas time. [...]

[T]hose working in the big house kitchen and as domestic laborers were expected to work around the clock to ensure a perfect holiday for the white family. The biggest task at hand was to cook and serve Christmas dinner, and chocolate was a favorite addition to the three-course formal dinner. [...] Oyster stew, meat pies, roasted pheasant, puddings, roasted suckling pig and Virginia ham are some of the many dishes that would be served in just one course. The night would finish with the sipping of chocolate: toasted, ground and spiced [...] and served in sipping-cups made specifically for drinking chocolate. [...]

---

Decades before the two well-known enslaved chefs, Monticello’s James Hemings and George Washington’s Chef Hercules, [...] Caesar was running one of the Colonies’ most prestigious kitchens inside of Stratford Hall, and making chocolate for the Lees and their guests. [...] [H]is son, Caesar Jr., lived nearby and was the postillion [...].

The stress of cooking the most important dinner of the year was combined with the fear of what was to come on Jan. 1. New Year’s Day was commonly known as heartbreak day, when enslaved folks would be sold to pay off debts or rented out to a different plantation. Jan. 1 represented an impending doom, and the separation of families and loved ones. [...] Caesar disappeared from the records by the end of the 18th century. By 1800, his son Caesar Jr. was still owned by the Lees, but as that year ended, Christmas came and went, and Caesar Jr. was put up for collateral by Henry Lee for payment of his debts.

---

The world Caesar lived in was one fueled by the Columbian Exchange, which was built from enslaved labor [...]: pineapples, Madeira wine, port, champagne, coffee, sugar and cocoa beans. These items traveled from plantation to dining room via the Atlantic trade, and were central to securing the reputation of Virginia’s plantation elite. The more exotic and delicious the food, the more domestic fame one would reap. Having cocoa delivered directly to your home, and having a chocolatier in the kitchen, were exceptional. It was through Caesar’s culinary arts that Stratford Hall became well-known throughout Colonial Virginia as a culinary destination.

---

All text above by: Kelley Fanto Deetz. “Oppression in the kitchen, delight in the dining room: The story of Caesar, an enslaved chef and chocolatier in Colonial Virginia.” The Conversation. 21 December 2020. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I can't believe that this 1906 stately home in Monticello, Arkansas is $488K. I would buy it so fast, b/c it's FULL of whimsy and fun. Look at the roof and architecture blending Queen Anne, Neoclassical, and Gothic elements. It has 4bds & 3ba.

This home has been featured on 5 TV shows and was the setting for a 2016 feature film. Several books have chapters featuring the house; it is the model for the house in the 1966 novel The Scent of Lilacs; and it is the sole subject of a bestselling nonfiction book published in 2012. Books and memorabilia are on display in the entry hall.

In the main sitting room off the hall, carousel horses prance, while fancy hot air balloons float above.

Across the hall is a deep green bedroom.

There's a family room with stick walls and whimsical decor off the kitchen.

The kitchen also has stick walls and is painted in deep purple and gray. Look at the antique original sink in the corner.

There's also an original cupboard.

An ornate original ceiling has a painted medallion.

Lovely library with a corner desk, seating area and some antique toys.

An original corner fireplace at the junction where 3 rooms meet.

This upper level hall has a balcony and the room looks just like the center hall of a southern dog trot house with shiplap walls.

This is amazing- there's a little deli in the hall.

The "Eat Here" arrow sign directs you into this retro kitchen.

What a lovely home office.

Next to the office is a safari themed room. How convenient to have your home office and bedroom together.

A bright red bath is reminiscent of New Orleans style.

And, this is the playroom.

What a wonderful hallway. I feel like I'm in a fairytale.

Looking down at the sunny yellow entrance hall.

A small gold and black bath.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/705-N-Main-St-Monticello-AR-71655/90802610_zpid/

[thedivaking]

Looking at 1776✨️

And what I got from the first scene is that John Adams will feed the congress to king George if they don't vote for him [Adams]

"Sit down John. Sit down John" um hello, Hamilton reference??? Before Hamilton 😅

Abigail is so sweet. And John Adams is so, Alexander Hamilton 😅😅 singing and arguing.

~~

Damn Benjamin Franklin🤦‍♀️

This dude would be fun at parties.

"I wish king George felt like my big toe all over"

-- Benjamin franklin.

Mr JEFFERSON!, weather report!

Me (singing): the sun comes up and the world still spins.

Thomas~ "I'm heading back home. Family matters.

I gotta be in Monticello~ Work from home begins~

~~

🎶Mr Adams, leave me alonnnneeee🎶

~~~

Combustability🎶 combustability🎶

JA: THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR BACKUP SINGERS!!!

Thomas Jefferson: how would you make me write it.

JA: by physical force 😤

[janewilsonrva]

Redbud in Bloom

Richmond, Virginia (USA)

Based on a photo from March 26, 2023.

Eastern Redbud is shrub native to North America and a Spring favorite here in Virginia since colonial times. It is said that both George Washington and Thomas Jefferson admired Redbud trees out in the woods and planted them at their home estates (Mount Vernon, Monticello, Poplar Forest).

[redlow-group-blogs]

Top Features to Look for in a Monticello Home

When searching for a home in Monticello, it’s important to prioritize the features that best align with your lifestyle. Whether you’re looking for modern amenities, eco-friendly upgrades, or spacious living areas, Monticello’s real estate market has something for every buyer. Here’s a breakdown of the top features to consider for a new home in this beautiful community.

Spacious and Open Floor Plans

Homes with open, flexible layouts offer greater versatility, allowing you to adapt the space to suit your lifestyle needs. Whether you want room for entertaining, a growing family, or a home office, spacious homes with open floor plans create a welcoming atmosphere.

Large living areas perfect for gatherings or quiet time.

Flexible room layouts for multifunctional spaces.

High ceilings for an airy, open feel.

Energy-Efficient Features

With the growing demand for eco-friendly homes, Monticello offers several properties that feature energy-efficient upgrades. These can help save on utility bills while also reducing your carbon footprint.

Energy-efficient windows to reduce heating and cooling costs.

Smart thermostats that can be controlled remotely.

Solar panels for long-term energy savings.

Modern Kitchens and Baths

Kitchens and bathrooms are often the focal points of a home. Whether you enjoy cooking or simply appreciate a stylish space, modern finishes and top-of-the-line appliances will elevate your home’s appeal.

Quartz or granite countertops for a sleek, durable surface.

Energy-efficient appliances for better sustainability.

Updated bathroom fixtures for a more luxurious experience.

Smart Home Technology

As homes continue to evolve, smart technology has become a key feature for many buyers. Monticello homes equipped with smart home devices offer convenience, security, and efficiency.

Smart lighting systems to adjust ambiance remotely.

Voice-controlled assistants to manage your home’s functions.

Smart security systems for enhanced protection.

Click here to read more

[moneeb0930]

‘Pimp’ and ‘Lyss’: The Immortal Young Brothers by Claude Johnson (Black Fives Foundation)

They were brothers on and off the court. William Pennington Young, sometimes known as “Pimp” to his friends, and his older brother Ulysses S. Young, known simply as “Lyss” to his pals, were an unstoppable sibling pair of African American basketball stars that played during the 1910s and early 1920s.

They also made significant pioneering contributions off the court, long after their playing days ended.

Ulysses was born in Virginia in 1894. A year later, after his hard working parents migrated tot he North in pursuit of a better life, younger brother William was born in Orange, New Jersey.

A few years later, in 1900, their parents rented a room of their home to a young couple from Virginia, the Ricks family, who had a newborn son named James. Over the years the Young brothers embraced little James as if he were their own kin, and as the older boys got involved in sports, so did their protégé.

Something in that combined household created serious athletic skills.

Lyss and William attended nearby Orange High School, where they starred in football, basketball, and baseball. In 1910, while still in high school, the pair began playing semi-pro basketball for the Imperial Athletic Club, a local squad that competed against such teams as the Newark Strollers, the Montclair Athletic Club, and the Jersey City Colored YMCA. The two immediately received attention in the black sports press, including the popular and nationally circulated New York Age.

Their attraction to basketball got young James hooked on the sport too, and he soon developed his own talent. One huge advantage was having the opportunity to learn from- and train with the Young brothers.

The little basketball apprentice, James Ricks, would grow up to become James “Pappy” Ricks, who would become a founding member of the New York Renaissance Big Five professional basketball team and eventually reach the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame.

After high school, the Young brothers attended Lincoln University in West Chester, Pennsylvania, which was not only America’s oldest historically black university but also was the closest to home for them. In college they both were once again three-sport stars. Though the brothers excelled in each sport, their first claim to fame was through football.

Playing quarterback, William was named as a Negro All-American during his senior year. Ulysses, playing end, was named to the Milton Roberts All Time Black College Football Squad for the 1910s Decade.

After graduating from Lincoln (“Pimp” was class valedictorian in 1917), the Youngs were recruited to play professional basketball in Pittsburgh by prominent African American sports promoter Cumberland Posey. Posey, historian Rob Ruck wrote in Sandlot Seasons, his landmark book that explores the city’s unique athletic heritage, “was,as much as any one man could be, the architect of sport in black Pittsburgh.”

The pioneering promoter had been cultivating Pittsburgh’s black basketball talent through his operation of several different squads in the city, most prominently the Monticello Athletic Association, since the early 1910s. But with America’s imminent entry into World War I and the resulting lack of resources, Posey decided to consolidate his best talent into one powerfully built team.

The result was the Loendi Big Five, a legendary combo that was sponsored and got its name from the Loendi Social & Literary Club, an exclusive African American social club in the the city’s predominantly black Hill District.

1921.

Adding the collegiate superstars from Lincoln not only helped Posey promote his new team but also sparked the Loendi Big Five’s domination of black basketball, with a dynasty that included four straight Colored Basketball World Championships from 1919 through 1923.

[hiidkwhatimdoing7525]

My second day at Yorktown for Lafayette's bicentennial anniversary of his tour (as an American friends of lafayette member) part 2/? - IT'S YORKTOWN BRITISH SURRENDER DAY!!!

first I went on the bus provided to the French soldiers grave for a memorial and wreath laying

Then it's back on the buses to the French soldiers memorial plus more wreath laying

Then we went to the parade!!! I was there with the AFL, infact, I got to hold the big American flag! (mark schneider had the French one)

the parade is HUGE!!! the AFL is almost to the last and we waited for like 20 minutes PEOPLE JUST KEPT SPAWNING WTF!!!!

Then we went to the Yorktown monument for the 'patriotic exercises' (why they call it that?), a BEAUTIFUL reenactment of lafayette reunited with James Armistead Lafayette and some speeches! I actually met 2 direct decedents of James, it was SO COOL!!! I kinda learned in this 'patriotic exercises' if anyone mentions lafayette, i along with the rest of AFL start cheering sand yelling vive lafayette, every time benedict arnold mention, we boo him.

After that I got some ice cream in this place that have the best decorations

got some stuff

i also got a tour calendar, a tote bag and a shirt with basically left me bankrupt 🥲 BUT i always wanted these and online they are more expensive plus shipping so it's worth it!

At the end I went to the AFL member dinner and I even got to take home some wine bottles!

(i like to collect glass bottles and put random stuff and paint brushes in them) (i already have a colonial willamsburg and Montpelier(james madison house idk how to spell it) and one not glass bottle from monticello)

here is a post i made about my first day (welcome lafayette to yorktown) :)

once again HAPPY YORKTOWN DAY EVERYONE!!!! the battle that lead the colonies one step closer to independence

[collincountymagazine]

Plano Police report wife killed husband on Monticello Drive on Saturday night

Police report Plano Police have arrested a woman in the 2300 block of Monticello Circle, in 75075 Zipcode between 15th Street and Park Blvd., near Greenway Drive west of Custer Road. The 9-1-1 call came in about 10:35 p.m. Saturday. Plano Police arrived and discovered the man who had called 9-1-1 suffering from a gun shot. A little later, Plano Fire and Rescue reported he had died after being…

[notquinnsea]

BEYOND MONTICELLO - CHAPTER SIX

| A Thomas Jefferson x Reader fanfic |

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of Monticello, casting soft, warm light onto the polished wood floors of the parlor. Thomas sat stiffly in a chair, his hands clasped tightly in front of him as Polly perched beside him, her legs swinging slightly over the edge of the settee. Though she had tried to convince her father she felt fine, her pale complexion and slight fatigue during their journey had been enough to make him insist on calling Dr. Gilmer the moment they returned home.

“I don’t understand why we need a doctor for being tired,” Polly muttered, more to herself than to him.

“Polly,” Thomas began, his voice soft but firm, “you may think I’m overreacting, but when it comes to your health, I won’t take chances.”

Before she could argue further, Dr. Gilmer was shown in, his bag in hand. After brief pleasantries, he turned his attention to Polly, conducting a thorough examination. Thomas sat nearby, his gaze steady, though his thoughts lingered on his late wife, Martha, and the illness that had taken her.

“Mr. Jefferson,” the doctor said at last, standing and smoothing the front of his coat, “you’ll be glad to hear there’s no cause for alarm. Your daughter is perfectly healthy, though I suspect the combination of travel and excitement has left her a bit worn out. Plenty of rest and good meals should do the trick.”

Polly gave her father a pointed look. “I told you, Papa.”

Thomas exhaled, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t completely ease. “Thank you, Dr. Gilmer,” he said, standing to shake the doctor’s hand.

As the doctor left, Thomas turned back to Polly, who was watching him with an expression that seemed to blend affection and mild exasperation. He knelt in front of her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.

“Polly, you must tell me when you’re not feeling well,” he said. “I should’ve noticed sooner.”

Polly smiled faintly, her tone playful. “You notice plenty, Papa. But maybe you should stop worrying so much. It’s exhausting being so loved.”

Thomas chuckled despite himself, though her words left him feeling both reassured and guilty. She was so much like her mother in moments like this.

Polly slipped off the settee, her energy already seeming to return. “I’m going to the library,” she said over her shoulder as she left the room. “Don’t call another doctor while I’m gone.”

Thomas stood slowly, watching her leave. He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips, but the lingering fear of almost missing her fatigue stayed with him. With a heavy sigh, he turned toward his study. For now, she was safe—and he’d make sure she stayed that way.

_____________________________________

The late afternoon sunlight spilled through the tall windows of Thomas Jefferson’s study, painting the room in a golden hue. He sat at his desk, deep in thought as his fingers drummed lightly on the wooden surface. A stack of correspondence waited for his attention, but his eyes lingered on a single envelope bearing the familiar seal of George Washington.

Thomas hesitated before breaking the seal, aware that Washington rarely wrote without purpose. He unfolded the parchment carefully, his brow furrowing as he read:

“Dear Mr. Jefferson,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits, as well as your daughters. It was a pleasure seeing young Polly during your visit to Philadelphia; she is truly a credit to you and her late mother.

However, I must address a matter of personal concern. During your recent stay, I observed a certain growing familiarity between yourself and my niece, Miss Y/N. While it is not my intention to interfere in matters of the heart, I feel obliged to speak plainly. Y/N is both young and dear to me, as though she were my own child.

If you do indeed have intentions toward her, I trust you will proceed with the seriousness and respect that such an endeavor requires. She is not someone to be trifled with, Mr. Jefferson. My only wish is to protect her from hurt or harm.

I hope you understand the gravity of my words and act accordingly.

Yours in friendship,

George Washington”

Thomas leaned back in his chair, folding the letter with a steady hand but a racing mind. The President’s tone had been measured, yet there was no mistaking the underlying message. This was a warning, albeit a kind one.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. Y/N. The name alone stirred something in him—a mixture of admiration, attraction, and unease. She had been a breath of fresh air during his stay in Philadelphia, but Washington’s words now forced him to confront his feelings with a clarity he had been avoiding.

The sound of soft footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He quickly set the letter down and looked up to see Martha—Patsy, as she was affectionately called—standing in the doorway with a stack of papers in her hands.

“I brought the ledgers you asked for, Papa,” she said, her tone light but her gaze sharp as it flicked to the folded letter on his desk.

“Ah, thank you, my dear,” Thomas replied, straightening in his chair. He reached for the papers, but Patsy didn’t hand them over right away.

“From the President?” she asked, nodding toward the letter.

“Yes,” Thomas said curtly, taking the papers from her and stacking them neatly. “Nothing of importance, just routine correspondence.”

Patsy’s eyes lingered on the letter for a moment longer before she gave a faint nod. “Of course,” she said, but her tone was skeptical. She placed the rest of the papers on his desk, her movements deliberate.

“Is everything all right, Papa?” she asked.

“Everything is fine,” he replied, his voice firm. “Thank you for bringing these to me.”

Patsy hesitated, clearly wanting to press further, but she eventually stepped back. “If you need anything else, just call for me,” she said before leaving the room.

Thomas watched her go, his expression softening. He knew his daughter well enough to recognize when she was suspicious. For now, she hadn’t pressed him further, but she had a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue when provoked.

Returning his attention to the letter, Thomas stared at it for a long moment before tucking it into a drawer. Washington’s words weighed heavily on him. If he was going to pursue Y/N, he would have to be sure of his intentions—and prepared for the consequences.

For now, though, there was no time to dwell. He had work to finish and a restless daughter to manage.

_____________________________________

Dinner started quietly, the room filled only with the soft clinking of silverware against plates. Polly was animated as she described their time in Philadelphia, her youthful excitement breaking the silence.

“Miss Y/N was so nice, Papa,” Polly said, her voice light and cheerful. “She showed me how to pick the best apples. I think she’d be fun to visit again someday.”

Thomas gave a small smile, his thoughts elsewhere but warmed by Polly’s enthusiasm. “She does have a charm about her, doesn’t she?”

“She’s more than charming,” Polly added. “She’s smart, too. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

Across the table, Patsy’s fork paused midair before she set it down with deliberate care. Her gaze, sharp and assessing, flicked between her father and sister.

“Miss Y/N does seem to have left quite an impression,” Patsy said, her tone even but with an edge that didn’t go unnoticed. “On both of you.”

Thomas glanced at her, frowning slightly. “There’s nothing wrong with admiring someone kind and capable, Patsy.”

“No, there isn’t,” she agreed, though her words carried a weight that made Polly’s smile falter. “But it does seem awfully quick, doesn’t it? To be so… fond of someone.”

Polly’s cheerful demeanor dimmed as the tension grew. She glanced nervously at her sister, then at her father, unsure of what was unfolding.

“Patsy,” Thomas said, his voice low, a warning in his tone.

But Patsy leaned forward, unwilling to back down. “Have you already forgotten Mother, Papa? Or do you simply find it easy to move on? To replace her?”

The words landed with the force of a slap. Thomas stiffened, his expression darkening as Polly’s eyes widened in shock.

“That is enough,” he said, his tone sharp, controlled—but barely.

“No, it’s not enough,” Patsy snapped, her voice rising. “You’ve been gone for years, and now you come back, acting as though nothing has changed—as though we haven’t been here, holding this family together without you. And now you’re chasing after some woman you hardly know? Do you even care how this looks to Polly? To me? To anyone?”

Thomas set his fork down with deliberate care, his jaw tightening. “Patsy,” he said, his voice quiet but seething with anger, “I will not tolerate such disrespect in my own home.”

“Disrespect?” Patsy stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “What about respect for Mother? For us? You left, Papa. You weren’t here. And now you expect us to sit by and watch you pretend none of it happened?”

Thomas rose abruptly, towering over her, his face a storm of fury. His voice boomed, breaking through the room like thunder. “That is enough, Martha!”

The name—her mother’s name—hung heavy in the air. Patsy’s expression froze, her face pale as if she’d been struck. The anger in her eyes gave way to something more fragile, something broken, before she turned and fled the room without another word.

Polly sat frozen in her chair, her hands trembling in her lap. Her lip quivered as she finally managed to whisper, “Papa, please don’t be angry…”

Thomas’s expression softened as he turned to her. “Polly, I’m not angry with you,” he said gently. But his words seemed to do little to comfort her.

“I… I don’t feel well. May I be excused?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

Thomas hesitated before nodding. “Of course, my dear. Go get some rest.”

Polly rose quickly and left the room, leaving Thomas alone in the suffocating silence. He sank back into his chair, running a hand over his face as the weight of the argument settled heavily on his shoulders. He hadn’t just lost his temper—he had lashed out at the daughter who had stood by him through everything. And in doing so, he feared he had only widened the distance between them all.