We spent some time in the car today driving to Old Sturbridge Village with D#2 & family. People were driving insanely today, more than other times, more than we could want. There were a lot of large vehicles on the road and it made me feel like I was part of the uncut version of Fantasia, the part that was going to be saved for Disney’s first horror movie.
Or else the other version of Dancing with Wolves.
But then we got to the village and we allowed ourselves to be brought back to the 1830’s, at least the cleanest happiest version of it. It was a lovely day, so we didn’t get overwhelmed with smells or dirt or tasks. Everything had a lovely feel to it and the history interpreters do a wonderful job of explaining context and concept along with the tasks or chores they are performing. So we enjoyed learning about blacksmithing, tinwork, baseball of the earliest times (they ran around the bases to the left. One of our grandchildren asked why they didn’t go to the right, but the real question is why it changed to go to the right–haven’t found any answers to that yet.) And I have a few photos, of course.
The every day was cherished.
Watching baseball, the old-fashioned way.
The raw material used to dye pink.
We are sooo far away from this kind of mechanical simplicity. It was, literally, a breath of fresh air, even if pushed.
I know that they repeat themselves in the gallery, but I can’t figure out how to do both the large and the small.
I think I’ll add some more of the other categories tomorrow.