For music, we watched visitors learn 19th-century country dances accompanied by a fiddle and flute and then enjoyed hearing an introduction to antique instruments (that is until the musician blew a conch shell and scared Bud to death). But our favorite was the fife and drum display. Bud sat absolutely mesmerized by the skill of the drummer and the discussions about the music by the fife player. And then he convinced Mama to buy him his own regimental drum. He wanted to wear it just like the drummer and then wandered around the village counting 1-2-3 and playing his own beats. And I noticed something: every single man, particularly the older ones, would look at Bud making his music, loudly, and would smile a knowing, happy, even envious smile. The women would either offer pitying or sympathetic looks. Or, maybe it was "are you out of your mind?" Since then, at home, Bud has recreated the presentation dozens of times: I give the little talk (i.e. "the next song is an old English drinking song used by the miltia to call the soldiers together) and then he counts and starts to play; sometimes, I accompany him on the recorder (because I can't play the fife that Mama also bought, for her birthday, which you blow across like a flute). He also calls the drum his "fifing drum," not realizing that the presentation was of a fife and drum.
Sis got something, too: two oxen, which she correctly identified much to the delight of the shop clerk. But then, we'd just heard the drivers give a short presentation on the Village's oxen and Sis remembers everything. She even had us yoke them together at home with pipecleaners and popsicle sticks! In fact, Sis was playing with her oxen when an older couple approached us to interact with the kids. And then, addressing me, wondered if I was the grandma or mom. WHAT?? But after they left, Mama clarified--they thought I was the grandmother because they probably thought she was the mom. Just one more example of strangers recognizing that we have a relationship and being totally unable to identify it. Now, if you saw us, would you really think "oh, they're mother and daughter" (or, well, more often, son. Yes, it happens. Almost everytime the four of us are together on weekends. Seriously), instead of "oh, they're a lesbian couple." Come on, people.
Then there were the arts and craft: we made marbled paper. The kids got to choose the colored paint (washable mixed with water to the consistency of watercolor) which the volunteers would then drip into a tray of dense liquid (some kind of wallpaper paste/solvent added to water--I bet you could use water and will let you know). Then they swirled it with a comb and dipped the piece of heavy paper on the surface of the water, rubbing out the bubbles. It took almost 24 hours to dry but made these great colored papers.
Otherwise, I had a few proud mommy moments: both kids knew how to work the water well in the kids' hands-on area (you pour the bucket into the front part of the well, not directly into the carrying bucket!) and they knew to use a "toe toaster" by placing it on the floor and spinning it with your toe--Sis even placed bread in it first! Can you tell they've been on too many historic house tours already? And we're just getting started--I can't wait until we "graduate" to Deerfield or Plimoth Plantation or Colonial Williamsburg! Yep, I'm a fun "grandma."
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