A Walk in the Woods

Last week, our Girl Scouts had a field trip to a local mountain, so-called in CT because it's a tall hill.  And I think, of all of us, I had the best time!  The tour focused on the natural history and human habitation of the area that could be read in the trees, reaching back to Native Americans and colonists and up through the agricultural use of the area, all of which I found fascinating--and I love rock walls!  I was proud that I made it through the hike, since parts of it had rocks and roots covered in leaves and unstable-for-me inclines and declines.

I'm becoming a much better hiker, a term I use loosely when applied to myself.  See, I don't think I realized what hiking was, seeing it as walking on paths through nature--not the arduous and sometimes treacherous climbing over rocks and trees and slopes that it is.  I first realized this in Vermont last weekend, when I was shocked to see what the Appalachian Trail looked like--not so much a path as a slightly-cleared thin line snaking through trees and rocks.  I'm now much more impressed with hikers than I ever was, particularly those who hike for months, sleeping on the way.

What we learned on our hike:

• cedars grow where once there were agricultural fields
• "wolf tree"--a tree with many protruding branches which was once probably the lone tree in a field.
• charcoal kiln--where farmers would gather and stack timber, cover it with leaves etc to burn it into charcoal for sale
• quarry--the holes and cuts of star drills, etc., were visible on cuts stones of an outcropping
• "three-sisters tree":  when trunks are cut during timbering and then another trunk grows out of the roots, then there are trees with 2-3 trunks, a sign of timbering
• how to roll a log--towards you to protect yourself from what might be lurking.  And always put it back!
• walnut, chestnut, hickory, and oak--local trees that produce edibles
• quartz--if you see a pile of quartz chips, it could indicate Native American tool-making.
• deer rub--an abrasion on a tree where deer mark their territories.
• rock walls--Second and third-generation European settlers (around mid-18th century) found that erosion caused by tree cutting and agriculture started to reveal all the boulders below the soil.  It was a curse on farmers!  They tried to clear fields, piling rocks as the iconic New England rock wall (most dating to late 18th and then 19th centuries), but agriculture in Connecticut ceased for the most part by the beginning of the 20th century, being too difficult and not profitable enough (hence the switch to manufacturing in much of the Northeast, as well as the move of settlers to better farmlands in Ohio, etc.)  In fact, the state is more forested now than since the settlers arrived; most trees are under 100 years old.  I love those rock walls and have been reading a history of them.

Between the hikes in Vermont and this hike, I'm of a mind to do more nature walks--as long as they are very easy access!

Rock walls

Wolf Tree to the right of center

More walls

Quarry holes

A Fine Philly Weekend

After a hectic week of illness and appointments, we got away this weekend for about 30-hours in Philly.  Our dear friend was being ordained a United Church of Christ (UCC) minister so we took the opportunity to get away for a day.

We drove down on Saturday after kung fu and ice skating, one of our easiest forays on the Jersey turnpike.  We got to Philly, checked into the lovely historic Morris House Hotel in the Olde City, and headed straight for ice cream at Franklin Fountain, which we'd discovered two years ago.  In fact, I think we had mostly the same thing--Bud had Ladies' Choice which had peach ice cream in a raspberry soda; Sis had a chocolate milkshake; and I had a War Admiral, which was a soda with roses, ginger, and milk.  But Mama got something new:  a Dubliner Sundae, which had Irish whiskey ice cream, with a warm whisky cake, and a Guinness-caramel sauce, all so very good.  Yum!  The Irish theme went great with all the drunk college kids and 20-somethings on pub crawls all over the area around us.  One group would stumble out of the pub while another group would stumble off the crowded bus, with lots of loud laughter, shouts, and merriment.  The kiddos were a bit surprised, so we gave them a few pointers on navigating the sidewalks around drunk folks--mainly keep an eye on their weaving so you don't get in the way if they need to puke!   We also popped into the Shane Confectionery next door to grab some sweets for the road.

On the way back to the hotel, we passed the closed Liberty Bell and Independence Hall, so dark, quiet, and completely devoid of people.  We never wait in line to see the bell and so enjoyed an unobstructed view through the window.  One day we'll do the Independence Hall tour, but this time we settled for Bud rapping the opening song of Hamilton, even though Hamilton spent more time in NYC.

Dinner--I know, it was after dessert, but that's how the reservations worked--was at Jones Restaurant. It was comfort food at its finest--in a swanky setting reminiscent of the "Brady Bunch" with shag carpet,  formica-like tables, and wood detailing and lamps that look just like the Brady living room.  It was a great meal:  tater tots (off menu, suggested by Mama's coworker who suggested the restaurant), fried cheese curds, fried chicken and fries, grilled cheese and tomato soup, meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and Bud's tuna tacos, which weren't exactly old-fashioned comfort food but still very good.  We even had apple pie and Duncan Hines Chocolate Cake.  Mama also had this odd grape juice/lemonade/Sprite soda combo.  The house manager saw the kids looking at the open kitchen and invited them up to watch and introduced them to Chef Lisa.  They watched a few orders being prepared until our food came.  All in all, it was a great dinner.

That night, after some DS-playing and reading, we all slept with the urban noises around us--people emptying garbage in the alley, the subway breaks under the sidewalks, the people on the streets, even all the birds sining in the early morning.  Which we saw because it was the beginning of Daylight Savings Time.  UGH.  We'd bought 9:30 tickets to see the "Magic of Pixar" exhibition at the Franklin Institute, forgetting about DST, so we were up early.  And then, we got caught in St. Patrick's Day parade traffic, which we weren't expecting.  

But we made it to the museum in time and the exhibition was excellent!  The kids loved manipulating all the stations, which explored the story in art, modeling, rigging, surface reflections (I forget what this is called), rendering, sets, etc etc etc.  They created settings, grew grass to certain specifications, adjusted lighting, drew models in 3D, and so much more.  And I think Mama had more fun with it than they did.  We all posed with the various characters set up around the show--the Monsters, Dory, Wall-e, Buzz Lightyear, and such.  I wasn't as interested, though I had fun making the grass thick or thin, curvy or straight, clumpy or evenly distributed and I also liked playing with the simulations of water, hair, clothes, etc. in Brave.  We kept teasing the kids about how integral all the math was to the art, since they complain about math in school.  But it's fun when its CGI manipulation.  Mama thought she'd even try to see if there were programs where they can start playing with animation.  Despite all of the fun we had, I was, however, very disappointed that there were no Brave souvenirs in the shop--it was all Monsters and Cars, even though the exhibition had as many girls having fun.  Shame on Pixar and the Franklin Institute.  At the end of our visit, Sis even rode the Sky Bike above the lobby of the museum, back and forth over a net, so high up!

We headed to my favorite restaurant, City Tavern, for lunch.  And what a lunch!  Buttery mushroom toast, spicy pepperpot soup, the yummy bread basket (Sally Lunn, Anadama, and sweet potato bisucits), Franklin chicken with Lunn breading and wine reduction and mashed potatoes, chicken pot pie, seafood pasta, and a cured and roasted pork chop that looked like ham.  We finished it with creme brulee, a fig and oatmeal bread pudding with amaretto sauce, and a vanilla corn cake.  And of course, raspberry shrub!  We'll have to make our own again this summer.  There was a table near us of women in full 18th-century dress, though we weren't sure if they were re-enactors or actual museum interpreters.  And we even talked to Chef Staib again!  He'd given the kids a free DVD a few years ago and posed for pictures; he kindly said he remembered.  He's always nice to diners and the staff said he's also good to work for.

After lunch, we headed out to the 'burbs for our friend's ordination.  It was a long ceremony, much like a graduation--complete with processional of folks in robes--with lots of prayers and songs and even a sermon.   There was also communion--which the UCC seems to welcome all to participate in; we had to explain communion to the kids.  Mama and I participated, in the spirit of community, as did Sis; but Bud just wasn't sure.   It was more Jesus-centered talk than our kids have ever heard, being UU and all, almost more than I've heard (and, as a child, I spent dozens of Sundays in churches with friends, be they Southern Baptist, Catholic, Methodist, Presbyterian, Lutheran, no UCC though) but then it was an ordination welcoming our friend into ministry.  We saw her a bit before and talked to both her and her wife; they were so glad to see we'd come down.  I think it meant a lot to all of us that we were there.  We stayed for a bit of the light supper--baked ziti and Amish chicken!--but needed to head out soon after.  We did manage to see our friend afterwards and give her the stole I'd made.  She put it on right away and it fit and looked pretty good (which surprised me because I made up the pattern.)  Smiles all around.

And then we headed home, in the rain, on the turnpike, listening to Divergent the whole way home.  Whew.  What a weekend!  But though it was busy, it was a nice escape.  Maybe one day, we'll actually see the tour at Independence Hall!

Woodworking Weekend

Mama had a big weekend!  She was gone for more than 48-hours at a weekend-long woodworking class at Old Sturbridge Village.  She's exhausted--she thinks her arms will fall off--but she brought home a gorgeous "hope" chest.

See, even the cat likes it.

• It's bigger than I thought--3' long, about 2' tall, more than a foot wide.
• The instructor led them through the OSV collection and then a slideshow on the history of the chest to give them ideas for their own.  Points of interest:  long chests are probably older; chests then started to have a drawer underneath, then more drawers, then it was a "chest of drawers"; the backs weren't usually finished, because they were never seen; cabinetmakers made fancy furniture with polish and inlays and carpenters did rougher work.
• The course focused on historical woodworking, so there were no power tools and, when possible, they did everything by hand.
• While the instructor had cut many of the pieces beforehand, Mama still had to saw the legs all on her own.  And the details that she included with the legs, which included two overcuts and some lovely scrolls so that it kind of looks like a star.
• The nails were provided (apparently, nails are really hard--with the sturdy point and the head), but she made the rivets at a forge herself.  This turned out harder than she expected.  And she even burned her hand a bit.  
• She scalloped the edges with a chisel and made a molding along the top rim to make it fancy, both techniques she saw in the historical examples.
• There's a till, or little box inside. 
• And a secret compartment!
• And she sanded the whole thing by hand.  She desired a rustic look, including some rough bits and cracks, which don't affect the structure of it.  
• She made the paint herself--some parts shellac, some parts denatured alcohol, some parts red coloring, which is natural (the Prussian blue, however, was the first synthetic color; she painted the till blue.)
• And there are some mystery letters stamped around the box, only visible if you really look.  
• Finally, her maker's mark is on the lower right front corner.

We love it.  She's so proud.   (Though, she's not yet sure that it will be her new hobby.)

Now, only to find the perfect spot for it . . . . 

Let the Shrub Ferment!

The recipe I started last night will be ready on the 4th of July!

No, it's not friendship bread or friendship cake.  (Though, now that I type that, it would be a fun summer project!)

It's shrub!

It's that vinegar-and-fruit-based drink that was so popular in colonial America (which got it from the rum- or brandy-based fruit drinks popular in England, which apparently grew out of older medicinal drinks.  And preserving berries or other fruits in vinegar was common esp in the colonies.)  And this recipe for raspberry shrub, from Saveur, is fermented.

Okay, I imagine you're thinking, "you're going to drink vinegar?"  Think of it like the lemon juice or citric acid in a drink, giving it tang (and not like the Romans giving Jesus vinegar to drink on the cross, which, by the way, is mistranslated--the original Greek is something akin to cheap wine, my prof said.)   'Cos there's enough sugar in the drink to balance it out.  Once the syrup ferments on the counter for a month, we'll strain it and add it to seltzer.  Yum!  I've had shrub in a few places, the best being City Tavern in Philadelphia--they make a raspberry shrub, too, based on a recipe of Martha Washington's.  (You can also buy it bottled to add to seltzer yourself.)

Maybe it can be a new tradition for 4th of July--making a batch of this very American drink!


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Fermented Raspberry Shrub

4 cups raspberries
4 cups sugar
4 cups champagne vinegar
4 cups water

Mix all ingredients in a sterilized jar and cover.  Ferment in cool place for a month.

Saveur 

24-Hour Sleepover Special

1:30 p.m.  We arrived at our hotel in Sturbridge, MA.  It's close to Old Sturbridge Village, where Sis and I would be overnighting with the Girl Scouts, and has a cute poster of OSV in reception.  Mama took the kids to the Village to look around; I stayed back and stretch and rest.  It's going to be a long night.

While they're out, I got several emails with photos, particularly of them sledding down the hill and of the woolly sheep in the barnyard.  

Mama even gave it a whirl!

4:00 p.m.   We head to dinner at the Publick House nearby, which is an eighteenth-century tavern turned restaurant, inn, and banqueting facility.  A reception was ending as we arrived; a wedding ceremony was being set up as we left!  We ate next to the hearth in the tavern room and had traditional New England fare:  sweet buns, yeast rolls, pumpkin bread, lobster pie, chicken pot pie, poached salmon, turkey dinner with all the trimmings, Grape Nut pudding, Indian pudding, apple pie, and an almond raspberry tart.  Delicious!  And the historical ambience made it even better.  

Oh, and Sis lost a tooth while eating her pot pie!  That girl, teeth coming left and right these days (which is overwhelming our forgetful Tooth Fairy, named Meadow Larkspur.)

5:30 p.m.   We took a quick break before the evening activities, and then . . . 

6:30 p.m.   Our Hop Into History sleepover at Old Sturbridge Village began!  We had 13 girls and six chaperones, which is almost our full troop sans three.  We got our gear settled into our sleeping space (eventually because we changed places once) and started our evening activities.  I have to say that I loved the education building.  It was an open, airy, light space with dozens of semi-divided "classrooms."  Some had old-time kitchens with wooden tables for prep and hearths for cooking; some had looms, others had printing presses.  Everywhere there were hutches, redware pottery, tin utensils, and other period details.  Definitely an educator's paradise.  (Our sleeping space was in one of these homey kitchens.

7:30 p.m.  Our first activity was making Jumbles, or cookies.  They mixed them in a redware bowl with a birch whisk, using rosewater for flavoring (there wasn't any vanilla in the States in the 1830s, I believe.)  Then we baked them on cookie sheets in reflecting ovens placed before a burning fire.  They also made lemonade using powdery sour citric acid, lemon juice, sugar, and water.  All the girls tasted the citric acid and made pucker faces!  These two treats would form our late night snack. 

Next the girls moved to the painting area, where they outlined dogwood flowers on acetate with Sharpies and then colored them in with paints.  Meanwhile, the guide touched delicately on labor issues and had the girls commute how quickly they would have to work to make a dollar a day.  Sis did the math--one painting every twelve minutes for 10 hours at 2 cents each would earn the dollar.  And the girls didn't work anywhere near that fast!

After baking and painting, the group went on a one-hour tour of the village by lantern light.  I stayed back because it was uneven and icy (apparently it was also speedy and I would have had trouble keeping up regardless.)  I've seen the village by candlelight at Christmas so I didn't feel like I was missing much.  

9:00 p.m. Instead, I lay on my little mat and stretched and drew this mandala inspired by some of the early American art around me. See the 9 square and flying geese and Celtic rope?

10:00 p.m.  When they returned from their hike, we had our snack (I couldn't taste the rosewater) and got ready for bed.  This was the part that made me nervous, both for my own ability to sleep on the floor without messing up my back and also for the girls actually getting some sleep.  The former was easier than the latter!  I set up my mat near the entrance to our little area, with my chair nearby. Sis was on the other side of the chimney near her friends. The girls played cards for awhile and then giggled a lot longer.  They stayed chatty after lights out and the lead staff member reprimanded us a few times.  Of course, I'm such a rule follower that I was bothered by the noise--I would have been one of the quiet girls--but in the end, there's not much you can do to shush a bunch of ten-year-olds!  

11:30 p.m.  They fell asleep eventually (though we had one girl who got ill, but she got better quickly--and luckily her mom was with us)--and it was the girls from the other groups who were playing flashlight wars and running around in the dark back and forth to the bathroom (their chaperones were asleep in another section--not very smart, but then I guess it meant the chaperones got to sleep!)  Of course, I didn't sleep much at all.  I imagine I slept in fifteen-minute chunks, or so, listening to all the unusual noises and worrying about the sick girl (and the threat of more sick girls, ugh.  But no one else threw up.)  My bed was as comfortable as it could be and I moved back and forth between it and the chair, which is super comfortable.

6:00 a.m.  By the way, those noisy, wandering girls from the other group?  They woke up and started talking--loudly--an hour before wake-up time!!  The Tooth Fairy had visited Sis in the night, though she needed some help finding Sis, and then Sis didn't find the money.  I knew it had been delivered--how do you say that, though?  So I said I thought I'd seen the Fairy, digging deeper. . . . but it was only very much later that we found the money in her bedding.  I think, though, the proverbial cat is out of the sleeping bag.  (Though, I think it had been for awhile.)  On an up note:  I think all the short naps overnight kept my back from tightening up too much because I was pretty unharmed and barely even stiff after a night on the floor.  Not sure if it was preparation or a miracle, but I'll take it!

7:30 a.m.  We had breakfast--bagels, cereal, and Hasty Pudding (made in a crock pot with white cornmeal, salt, and water) served with craisins and sugar.  Kinda like grits, I thought it needed butter and cream!  No wonder it is a "hasty" meal.

8:15 a.m.  We hiked into the snow-covered village that morning to see a storytelling performance in the lovely old meeting houses.  The kids sat quiet and interested in stories about an old wise magic fish and another about a contest with Old Man Winter.  

 9:15 a.m.  We're packed and ready to go.  Al the girls return to their folks, many head into the village.  Mama and Bud pick us up and I get a quick shower before we head back to the Village.  Bud and Mama had driven around doing some Ingress tracking and then played some games in the hotel.  So not as exciting as our night, but they had a good time.

10:00 a.m.  We wandered around OSV, eventually running into our GS friends.  Sis and Bud enjoyed hanging out with them.  I liked watching the cooking demos, as usual--apple pie in the Parsonage and maple cookies in the Fitch House.  We also picked up some beer bread and maple soda in the little shop.

Then we went to the craft center, where Mama made a spile (the little wooden pegs you use to tap trees for maple sugar time) and I hand-sewed a little seed bag.

12:00 p.m.  For lunch, we went to BT's Smokehouse across the street from the Village.  The line was long, as was the wait.  And it was amazing barbecue!  We had brisket sandwiches, St. Louis ribs, pastrami on rye, smoked salmon, and all the fixin's--the very best collards ever, Texas caviar, mac and cheese, cornbread, cole slaw, and more.  Even Tagalong bread pudding.

And thus, at 3:00 p.m., a little over 24 hours later, we returned home from our special sleepover.  Exhausted, excited, stuffed to the gills.  Sis has already asked where we're overnighting next!

Catching Up

Advent
For whatever reason, we have fallen behind in our daily Advent Activities.  I don't know if it's because we are distracted by and focused on the new cats (more on that in a bit), or because we have lots of activities--cookie decorating with GS troop at senior center, piano performance at nursing home, Piano Guys concert, various office parties, two friends' birthday parties, birthday lunch at German restaurant with visit to British grocery store, our annual cookie decorating party, and other things, plus are regularly scheduled activities.

Cats
We've had first contact!  We couldn't tempt the new boys upstairs after we locked up our original cats last night, so we let our cats visit them in the basement.  We were ready with treats, which worked very well--Albus and Hermione approached Mojito, but nothing happened as they all munched away. Later, Hermione and Mojito hissed a bit at each other, but separated.  Mojito even went to eat while Hermione was still hanging around.  We ended it soon after, since it had been pretty promising.  And no one seemed the worse for the wear last night or this morning--no hiding, no litterbox accidents, no obvious stress.  We'll try again.  We realize the basement isn't the best place for them to live, but under the circumstances, Mojito (Mojo) and Patron (Tabby or Petro) are pretty lucky.  And it is temporary.

Colonial Lecture
I gave that lecture to a local AAUW (American Association of University Women) chapter last weekend.  And it went really well!  My light beige body sock arrived the day before so that I didn't feel quite so exposed in my chemise.  'Cos I started out in nothing more than my shift, which is a very flimsy nightgown (and would've been used as such), and stockings.  I then tied on garters, slipped on my leather Merrills (the most obvious anachronistic bit I have--reproduction colonial shoes are too expensive for my needs), and kept going.  A volunteer helped me lace up my stays/corset, skipping every other hole to make it go faster--she used my spiral bobbin to help thread it (the spirals help twist the bobbin through.)  Then pockets, petticoats, bodice, cap.  They couldn't believe how many clothes I had on--are you hot?  can you breathe?  can you bend?  I'm pretty comfortable in my colonial clothes, even the corset, which is a nice brace for my back.  I spoke a bit about the development of the corset as a foundation for heavy petticoats and as a way to achieve the straight silhouette they desired (their clothes were much more fitted than now, tight, and so you really get these amazing lines, esp if you have wide skirts, a bum roll or panniers, an early side hoop.)  Since it's all cotton--the other main anachronism, for it would've been mainly wool, linen, or a combo linsy-woolsey here--I don't get as hot as I could (though I get warm faster than usual), and, of course, now the historic house has AC and heat; it would've been so much colder in the 18th century and you would've needed the wool, quilted petticoats, and numerous layers.  The talk was short, only about 20 minutes, and I could've covered a lot more.  I would definitely do it again, longer and more detailed. And when I changed back into my civvies, I just felt ordinary again.  I like the way I feel, physically (the corset, the change in how I move--sit, walk, even gesture) and mentally (i.e. thinking about the past, getting a different perspective.)  Regular clothes just don't do that for me (mind you, if I wore colonial clothes more often, I probably wouldn't feel that way anymore, either.)

Birthday Celebrations
Mama set up this great present for me--a Lyve app that allows me to manipulate all the digital photos we have in chronological order, updates any of our new photos, let's me share them.  So, I can look back on all the photos we've taken on my birthday through the years.  Or, look at all the photos in a month or year.  And she bought this digital frame that scrolls through them.  Right now, there are pictures of us at Mystic Seaport going past.

Mama went into work late so we could all have breakfast together--egg sandwiches she fetched from the deli!--and treats (yummy pastries from a special bakery she'd snuck home.)  Sis had hung up a birthday sign telling me I was awesome.  Feeling lots of love from my family today.

And family and friends, far and wide.  Gommie, Aunt Banana, and Lambeth and Mrs. Lambeth have called--it definitely sets the day apart and makes me feel special.  And several of my local friends came over for coffee and cake this morning, bringing treats to share (and some gifts, though I had said not to, which was sweet and appreciated.)  We chatted for two hours, having not gotten together in awhile.  I never get to talk to everyone as much as I'd like, but they're all interesting and seemed to enjoy getting to know each other (there are definitely different spheres, like a Venn Diagram of my life, and they crossed over today.)  I even played a few songs on the piano to show off my new skills!

Tonight, Mama and I are going to a big holiday party and tomorrow we're meeting up with my in-laws to do holiday things.  And Sunday, the kids have another piano performance.  So, all in all, a very special birthday.

A Different Prep

Besides prepping for the "new" cats or even for Thanksgiving, I'm prepping for a lecture that I'm giving in less than two weeks at a tea at the historic house.  And I'll be talking about clothing in the colonial time.

By getting dressed in front of a house full of women.

I'll start in a body stocking with my shift or chemise on top and the proceed to put on stockings and garters, stays or corset, pockets, two skirts, bodice, apron, mob cap, and maybe even straw hat and cloak for outdoors.  All of this while discussing the history of corsets, changing understanding of the effects of soap and shampoo or lack thereof, bathing and cleanliness, lice, seasonality of clothing, fabrics, and myths such as women dipping their skirts in water to keep from catching fire while cooking, wearing decorated pockets on the outside to attract a husband, and, if we venture into Victorian times, having ribs removed!

Whew.

So, I've got the garters, silk knee-highs, and bodystocking on order and am otherwise ready to go.

Should be lots of fun.

Though, isn't it the audience that I'm supposed to picture in their underwear??

Sticky Situation

Parenting fail:  last night at our mom-daughter book club, there was an art activity that involved cutting. But NO left-handed scissors, so I had to do the cutting.  Having no other lefties in my immediate family, I never think of such things.  But now I know to travel with lefty scissors.   (Sis hasn't mastered cutting with her right hand.)

Otherwise, our book club was fun.  The book was Joshua's Song, a fictional account of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919 in Boston, coupled with a Newsies's-like story of newspapers and reporters. We had actually tried to watch Newsies, the Disney movie musical turned Broadway show about newsboys, in advance, but Amazon Instant Video was down. Another time.  Sis enjoyed the book, particularly the girl newsie who dressed like a boy to seel her papers.  My favorite part was the end, when Joshua comforted a woman trapped in the destruction of the flood by singing to her--it reminded me of hospice.  The kids really connected with the story and had lots of answers to questions and questions to answer.

They even got to dip their hands in real molasses to get a sense of its viscosity.

And then there was the newspaper-flower-cutting activity.  Sis attached her finished flower onto my scarf.

We also "won" the door prize--we were the only ones who wanted the unopened jar of molasses!!  With holidays coming up, we can use that.

I really like this book club--reading new books, discussing different points of view, socializing with girls we don't usually see (though, many of them are in our GS troop.)  Our next book is Dickens's Christmas Carol, with some wonderful book club activities planned.

Historic Hell

UPDATE:  Why does it always rain on field trip days?  I think of the seven or so days of tours we've had, it's rained 6 times!!  This means damp kids (because they walk over, money being too short for a bus), lunch inside (oh, the smell of bologna sandwiches on a wet day!  It's like wet dog.), and no outdoor activities, so they don't get the full historic house experience AND are restless and extra noisy.  Do we have to make up the deficit in our annual rainfall in October???
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Okay, it's not that bad.  But we have been having a few glitches with the historic house tours this season.  Volunteer shortage is always a challenge and this year is no different, but we're filling in the slots and I'll end up doing about half of them.  Almost a chance for me to wear all my different costume pieces!  (Though, if it doesn't cool off, I'll be wearing my vest instead of my bodices and one skirt instead of two!)

But there have been other things.  The biggest challenge has been our new activity:  making butter.  We talk about prepping for the winter and storing the harvest because there were green grocers. per se.  We used to string apple slices on string and hang them in the fireplace, talking about pie for breakfast and lunch and dinner so that Americans were called "pie eaters," but this year we're making butter.  Kid are fascinated to learn than a.) butter was not available all year long because cows don't naturally produce milk all year b.)  butter was salted to preserve it because there was no refrigeration (butter is still salted as a preservative--buy unsalted; it's fresher.)  c.) butter isn't naturally golden yellow, though it does have a faint yellow hue when it separates--real gold color is obtained using marigold petals and d.) YOU can make butter yourself.

Except it hasn't been working.  In theory, you shake heavy cream (not half and half or, heaven forbid, any low-fat project--you need the fat) in a container with some kind of agitator; this mimics the old-fashioned butter churn with the plunger-stick.   We started with glass jars with screw-top lids and marbles.  I even tested it with the kiddos--voila, butter in less than five minutes.  But on the very first day of tours, in the first class, the bottom of a glass jar just sheared right off, spraying cream, but luckily not glass, everywhere.  I guess there was a flaw in the glass, though I expect better of Ball jars.

Better safe than sorry, we switched to screw-top Ziploc snack containers, the kind in which my kids take apples to school.  But the plastic can't stand up to the use--perhaps it's the marble or the dice (or sometimes the Lego) hitting the plastic, but small cracks appeared in every single container, even on the first go-round.  I even bought a second round of containers, but, still, leakage.

We were going to go back to jars today, but there were two kids with dairy allergies so we returned to stringing apples.  Besides, the class was 45 minutes late, and apples are faster.  Still, the kids are fascinated by the butter and we'll return to that tomorrow.

But the late classes these last two days has been another headache.  Docents have to trim the tour, sometimes by as much as 45 minutes!  That's hard on the fly.  Especially after the kids have been inside all day and are noisy and restless (they go to another museum before us)--with the wet weather, they can't eat outside before the tour or play outside afterwards. (Today, one of the teachers had just given up, wouldn't even try to quieten the kids.) This causes chaos.

Especially with cream flying everywhere.

Summer Fun: History on Parade

Due to connections and being in the right place at the right time, we were in a parade!  Our town float needed some "colonials" to flesh out its march through history.  And, well, I can easily be a colonial.  Plus I have two colonial kids.  So, there we were, dressed to the nines--Bud in his vest, Sis in her pink colonial gown, and I in my favorite "Jacobean print" bodice with blue and red skirts, plus my mob cap and straw hat--on a float parading in town.

I'd never been in a parade before; it wasn't even on my so-called bucket list of life wishes (I don't actually have one of those, but I do have ideas of things I'd like to do.)  I just never figured I'd have the opportunity . . . and then there it was.  

 

And it was fun!  There was a long wait for our float to join the parade, but then we were moving--definitely more smoothly than I expected--and waving (I didn't need the royal wave, just waved normally) and smiling (it's cliche, but my face did feel frozen after awhile) and throwing candy.  Sis and Bud were really good at throwing candy, aiming for the kids, even noticing when kids with candy pretended they didn't have any or followed us for more.  I was more troubled by the demanding adults who actually approached the float demanding more candy.  Aggressively.  

But I liked waving and smiling, especially to the little kids who waved back.  Lots of adults waved back, too.  And took our pictures.  I'm in hundreds of photos, which rather surprised me.  Who really wanted a picture of our float?  Of EVERY float?  Some people video'd the entire parade.  I mean, I know why Mama took our pictures, but . . . maybe my dress costume was better (or worse) than I thought!

Less comforting thoughts rolled through my head--class issues, race issues, issues of privilege and poverty and even who writes history and controls it and makes it even now.  We were a mostly white-populated float--excepting my two bi-racial half-Asian children--representing a town with known Native American and West African captive populations in the past and a very diverse present.   How could we really purport to be the history of our town?  Especially through a predominantly minority neighborhood?   Especially as they would really benefit from knowing their ancestors' parts in our town's history?  As Mama tells me, most of the police, EMS, and firefighters were white, most of the politicians were white, and most of the floats and marchers, with just a few major exceptions, were white, through a town that is mostly not white.   Not right.

But, I suppose the main point was that we were altogether celebrating and relaxing and cheering together.  And that part we really did enjoy.  

D-Day Remembrance

It is the 70th anniversary of the invasion at Normandy.   We remember the Allied men and women on this day in particular and honor their service and sacrifice.

While my maternal grandfather was in the US Army at the time, he did not participate in the landing.  I think he was in North Africa or perhaps in Italy, though he was in France later, I believe.

We talked about it at dinner tonight; they know of Hitler, the Nazis, and Anne Frank, as well as the Blitz.  But they didn't realize there weren't global positioning systems and satellites to help find the enemy and help with the war effort; they didn't know you could have a soldier overseas and not know where he was or even if he were dead.  Another world for them, even having stood inside the bombed out church of St. Dunstan in the East in London.  When they're ready, they can read all about D-Dayin the "TimesMachine" original edition.

Gommie's History

Gommie's visit this spring has involved a lot of colonial history, start to finish.  Last week, she followed along--and even really helped out with some of the needlecrafts--on a school tour at the historic house.  I'm not sure she had ever followed me on a tour before; luckily, it was a small and enthusiastic group of kids who made me look good!  I think she had fun helping them with their sewing and such.  It sure helped us!

Then, this morning, while I was giving a presentation at school, which she couldn't attend, she wandered around town to one of the old burying grounds and explored the headstones.

Afterwards, we went to a local museum and learned more about Connecticut history, well, local history, that is.  Connecticut is not so much a state as a collection of 140-odd towns; local identity is much stronger than state identity, unlike good ol' Texas.  Even after 10+ years here, I'm not sure I could describe the state flag--I know my town seal, though!  And I know the town tree, but not the state tree, flower, or bird.  (Texas: pecan, bluebonnet, mockingbird.)  The only reason I know the CT state song is because it's "Yankee Doodle!"  Anyway, we had a nice chat with a costumed interpreter who also does colonial reenacting--he certainly knew his stuff, from minutiae about George Washington to pedagogical issues of first vs. third-person interpreting, and even the local politics in our town!

Gommie has been reading a lot of my colonial history books while she's here (and more than usually interested in it all) because tomorrow (Tuesday) she's heading to Boston for the rest of the week before flying back to Texas.  She's never really done Boston and is very excited.  She's staying at the Parker House--for the rolls!--and doing the Freedom Trail.  We'll miss her but are glad she's off to even more historical adventures!

Authenticity

When I woke up to an exceptionally dark house this morning, battered by wind and rain, all I could think of was "how am I going to prep for Thanksgiving without any power?"  That's a bit too authentic, even for me!  Luckily, the power was restored in an hour or so, much to the disappointment of the kids, who had to go off to their half-day of school.  So today, I am grateful for people who work on holidays and in bad weather for our health and safety--first responders, public works, and the power people.

We're well on our way to being ready over here.  Sis and I made four pie crusts last night (for two pies, one baked brie, and an extra, just in case.) I've glazed and candied pecans, made two cranberry sauces, defrosted cornbread for dressing, baked sweet potatoes for casserole, and frozen a big batch of dinner rolls.  All while listening to the radio and talking on the phone.  Whew!  If I can find room in the fridge, I'm going to make the Jello salad.

And I've found a new dish:  a whole stuffed and baked pumpkin, the original colonial version of our modern pumpkin pie!  I got the idea from my friend Miss Lori, who made two different stuffed pumpkins with her kiddos a few weeks back; hers were savory, but I wanted more of a sweet custard.  And so I found a recipe last night. 

And went to the store this morning and got the ingredients, already having the pumpkin.

So, we still get a bit of colonial authenticity even with our power back on.

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Baked Whole Pumpkin, or Colonial Baked Whole Pumpkin “Pie”

From Vandetta Williams

1 pumpkin, 5 to 7 pounds

6 whole eggs

2 cups whipping cream

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 tablespoon molasses

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ginger

2 tablespoons butter, in tiny cubes

Wash, dry and cut the lid off the pumpkin just as you would for a jack-o’-lantern. Remove the seeds and save for toasting later. (See recipe below.)

In a mixing bowl, mix together the eggs, whipping cream, brown sugar, molasses, nutmeg, cinnamon and ginger; fill the pumpkin with the custard mixture and dot with the butter. Cover with the pumpkin lid and place pumpkin in a baking pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, or until the mixture has set like custard.

Serve from the pumpkin at your table, scraping some of the meat from the pumpkin with each serving.

Yield: 8 servings

Thanksgiving Reconsidered

I've been giving Thanksgiving a lot of thought recently, mainly how I want to celebrate and for what reasons.  I value the family tradition and the idea of gratitude, but I'm not really commemorating the meeting of Wamponoags and English settlers in 1621.  Perhaps it's more like the medieval European "harvest homes" to celebrate and give thanks for the harvest.  I mean, I am Irish/Scottish/English/Welsh, plus German and French, all of whom would have celebrated and given thanks at the harvest.  So maybe instead of doing the usual modern Thanksgiving with turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, and pumpkin pie or even trying to attempt a resemblance to an authentic meal with furmenty, nasaump, or sobaheg, etc, maybe I should look back to those medieval harvest feasts.  But I'm not sure I want to eat rosee (a chicken with rosewater dish) or cod with jance sauce or the like (though, the custard, "snow," and confits sound good.)  Maybe I'll just focus on our local, seasonal produce . . . which brings me back to our usual modern Thanksgiving!  So maybe this year, I will try new ways to celebrate sweet potatoes, cranberries, kale, brussel sprouts, corn and the like, with recipes that maintain more of the integrity of the produce with less processed additions.

Today's Tour

The last historic house tour of the season, the one with Sis and Bud's classes, went wonderfully well.  The rain had stopped before the tour, but they all ate inside--I had brought special deli sandwiches, chips, and cookies for them.  They ate with their friends while I got everything squared away.  When the tour started, Sis joined Bud's class, carrying my phone around to take pictures.

Here's a view of the tour from her vantage point:

We did all the usual third grade historic house tour things:  I dressed volunteers up in colonial garb; they strung dried apples, played with paper dolls, practiced chores like churning butter, and examined recent artifacts uncovered during the construction (namely a broken late 19th-century white ceramic vase/pot.)  We talked about the history of the family, the structure and evolution of the house, clothes, trades, food, seasonal activities, and children of long ago.

And, because the rain held off, we even got to go out to the herb garden that our Brownie troop created.

Sis and Bud didn't answer many of my questions; Sis had said she wanted to give other kids a chance (same with using other volunteers for dress-up).  But even though they were just two more faces in the group, they were my familiar little faces.  And I so really enjoyed today, having waited for it for a long time now.  It'll be two more years before they come back.  I hope I'm still volunteering then, because I'd really like to take them on another tour.

UPDATE:  The kids told me over dinner that both of their docents at the other house (they go to two) asked how they knew so much!!

Pondering Halloween

The rain held off so that it was a dark but not stormy night.  In fact, it was quite temperate for a New England Halloween and the kids didn't even need jackets or long sleeves as they wandered out into the night.  They trick or treated alone this year, in that they didn't join any neighbor groups but went door to door together as we stood at the curb.  They did all the neighborhood houses--including the three near us that have been dark and candyless for the decade we've lived in Connecticut but are now inhabited by young families and Halloween participants--after first driving to a special chosen few.  Interestingly, few people tonight, or last night at Mama's office Halloween party for kids, recognized Sis's Quidditch robes or Bud's Camp Half-Blood shirt as belonging to Harry Potter and Percy Jackson respectively.  The few who did know, however, were appropriately excited.  Sis and Bud in turn were excited to see a colleague of Mama's in a T.A.R.D.I.S. shirt and Sis proudly told him that she was going to be the Doctor next year, the Tenth Doctor.  He approved.

Of course, their favorite part, both last night and tonight, isn't so much the gathering of candy, which is merely a means to an end, namely the eating of candy.  First, they sort their haul by type, then they engage in the all-important swap whereby one gives all of his Hershey bars in exchange for all of her Skittles and the other gives up all of  her mini-Crunch bars for all of his Whoppers.  It is a family ritual.  So is giving all of the nutty candies--Snickers, Almond Joys, peanut M&Ms, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups--to Mama and me.  We let them eat til they'd had their fill tonight and will be generous with the eating of candy for the next few days, until Mama does a candy buy-back program this weekend, another ritual.

I asked the kids about family rituals and traditions, as I was cutting out rounds of Soul Cakes this evening.  The spiced cookies were pretty good, actually, thicker and more tender than shortbread with a lot more spice (plus we used balsamic vinegar instead of white wine vinegar, which we didn't have.)  Anyway, I realized that oftentimes I don't repeat activities like Soul Cakes.  This year it's Soul Cakes (we played the song all afternoon); a few years ago it was roasted pumpkin seeds.  Next year, who knows?  Sis said she liked that we did new things each year as long as we kept some of the same traditions, like the great candy swap and drawing their costume for the year on their trick or treat bags and hanging up "Ghostie" in our tree.  For Thanksgiving, she said, we had to have turkey and gravy but she didn't feel like we had to do the same gratitude activity every year.  Christmas, among many other things, means the sock Advent calendar.  I'm glad we're all on the same page about holidays, with something old and something new.

Today during my (awful) school tour (I wasn't awful; the kids were crazed, as I expected them to be--my own Sis was, in her own words, "hysterically happy" about Halloween and Bud was dancing everywhere), I realized (again) how even a relatively widely celebrated holiday like Halloween can be controversial.  We were talking about fall and its holidays when a girl raised her hand and said, "Halloween is the Devil's birthday.  Christmas is God's birthday."  Gulp.  Of course, both personally and intellectually, I believe this is completely unfounded (see our research on Samhain here) and untrue.  But school tours are no place for theological discussions, especially with eight-year-olds, so I merely said that I understood that some people believe that but that the people who lived in the house in the colonial times wouldn't have believed that and nor would they have celebrated either one.  (No wonder our kids can't wear Halloween costumes to school!)  And then, true to form, I asked Sis and Bud what they thought of that later.  Sis said outright that she didn't believe in the Devil.  So I asked her how she would talk to a friend who said such things (and there are a few who would, as they are not allowed to celebrate Halloween because it's not in the Bible.)  "I have a different religion," she decided.  I told her that sometimes it was hard to disagree with friends, but she raised her hand for a high-five and said, "I'm a strong girl."  We also talked about how you can agree to disagree, how different people can believe different things.  And that belief and truth are not always the same thing, not by a long shot, regardless of how firmly someone (including us) believes something to be true.

On a lighter note, another girl on the tour asked if I would wear my colonial costume that night to trick or treat.  No, I said, these were my work clothes.  And she looked at me incredulously and asked, "This is your job?"  She was so shocked, so earnest, even though I'd already answered the question of how I'd learned all this stuff (years and years in school and then more studying afterwards!)  I do feel lucky to dress up in costumes for my day "job."  And in truth, my colonial outfit does make a great costume, but I leave the trick or treating to the kids.

Tomorrow is All Saints' Day and then All Souls' Day for some, Samhain for others.  And we'll be eating Soul Cakes and candy, singing a song used for both All Souls' and Christmas, planning our rituals and traditions (to express our beliefs, to overburden this wrap-up!) as we get ready for the trio of big winter holidays.  I love this time of year.

Happy Halloween!

My "Lousy" Days

Four classes, two days.  I just finished giving in-class programs to the third graders at Sis and Bud's school in preparation for their field trip next week to the historic house where I volunteer.  I entitled it, "Weird but True:  Colonial Life," but maybe should have called it "Ewww But True" because of all the gross stuff I shared--no baths, corn cobs for toilet paper, lice/fleas/nits, mice, trash middens right in the backyard, multiple-seat privies, hay mattresses, also boys dressing in skirts until they were about 7, corsets, long slow travel times, cold and dark houses, etc.  And then we made sachets, using lavender, winter savory, and rosemary, which were designed not only to smell sweet but to ward off bugs!

I forget perhaps how well-versed Sis and Bud are in historic houses, because several of these kids didn't realize that colonists had no electricity, no plumbing, no heat/AC, no well-stocked stores, no plastic, no trash pick up, no hospitals (yes, one girl asked me how women had babies!  She didn't mean physically, thank heavens, but where.)  I think they could barely fathom it.  And I forgot to start so simply because I figured they knew. I won't make that mistake again.  They had lots of great questions--and some challenging ones, like how would Santa get in the house if there was usually a fire--I had to tell them that colonists didn't really dwell on Santa Claus or even on Christmas.  They did not like the picture of the rat skeleton but loved the discussion of toilets the most.  They were shocked by the boys in skirts but pretty uninterested in how syllabub is made straight from milking a cow and not so surprised by the pillow I stuffed with hay to represent the mattresses they had.  They were all pretty surprised by the picture of George Washington's fake teeth and the fashion of wearing white-powdered hair (or wigs.)  They couldn't believe how long travel took (5-6 days between Boston and NY!  And sleeping in inns in bed head-to-toe with strangers!)  And they liked the etymology of "lousy," being full of lice, especially because lice had been going around school.

They all seemed to enjoy the sachet project, though one class ran so long that they'll have to save making theirs with their teacher next week (that was my only disappointment, especially because it was Sis's class.)   They followed directions for a pinch of this and a spoon of that well enough, even managing to bundle the cheese cloth into a little packet, but many of them couldn't tie.  I never dreamed that third graders would be unable to tie a knot or bow.  It's a great project, but prepping materials for 100 students would be my limit--I'm not sure I could do the sachet project with all schools if and when we could expand the in-class program (that would be 700 or so strings and cheesecloth squares!)  I'll cross that bridge if and when I come to it.

It was fun to be in Sis and Bud's class, though neither of them answered any of my questions, letting the other kids have a turn.  I had a few pictures of them--Bud at the archaeological dig in the backyard, Sis cooking in the fireplace.  And a picture showcasing the Brownie troop because they built the herb garden, which provided the winter savory and rosemary for our sachets (but not the lavender, as our plant didn't flower, so I bought buds in bulk.)  Everybody got a kick out of recognizing people in the photos--one class wanted me to take their picture at the house, too (but permissions being what they are, who knows!  Which is why this post is un-illustrated.)

So in a week, I welcome them to the historic house, on the last tour day of the season.  It's been a pretty good one, but I'll be glad for a bit of a break.

Little Old House in the Small Town

There are big things afoot at the historic house where I volunteer.  Recently, we celebrated the groundbreaking for a new addition. It was quite a party, with state and local officials including our state Rep and Senator, the mayor, and superintendent and assistant superintendent.  Sis, Bud, and I attended--in our colonial outfits, though Bud only changed into his once he saw the attention Sis was getting.  I'm sure the formal speeches and odd display of grown-ups pretending to dig with golden shovels struck them as silly, but I thought it was important to miss a bit of school to attend.  That made them nervous, even with the approval of the Superintendent, and so I had them back, after some photos and noshing on bagels.  The new addition will house an all-purpose room, kitchen, and another bathroom.  This will greatly increase our public space for programs and activities.

And we're going to need it!  We have visions of a public lecture series to open the new addition, which coincides with a big anniversary of our town.  And we're investigating a teen docent program that would train high school students to give tours to fifth-graders and perhaps even the public.  This, in addition to our regular school tours and new summer family fun workshops.

For now, I'm preparing for my in-class visits to the third-grade classes at Sis and Bud's school, in advance of their tours next week.  I'll give a down and dirty presentation on colonial life--you know, bathroom and bathing habits and other things designed to make kids go "ewww!"--and then they'll make sachets which were used not only to smell sweet but to ward off bugs.  Our house smells wonderful!

Getting Ready

It's almost time for tours to start up again at the historic house.  So today, volunteers and I were prepping the house by setting up activities, clearing away the extra stuff, and even hanging some fresh herbs from our colonial-inspired herb gardens.  There's rosemary, lavender, winter savory, and sage, making the house smell so fresh.  Of course, colonists wouldn't have hung herbs inside the fireplace where they would burn, more likely hanging them from the rafters.  But, as we lecture from the hearth, we hung them there.  There's also our new candle mold on the mantle for us to discuss nighttime and the ways colonists created light.  It's going to be a great (but busy) season, especially because all my Brownies plus Sis and Bud will be coming on the tours in October.  

Tasty History

We wrapped up the family workshops at the historic house a few weeks ago.  We had fun making soap scrimshaw, outlining and then cutting silhouettes, and weaving bracelets.  Each art activity was accompanied by a docent-led discussion of the historical context of the craft--maritime life in the eighteenth-century, capturing likenesses before photography, and the process of yarn craft from sheep to shawl.

And we have one docent who often bakes for us. For the last workshop, she brought us this delicious blueberry cake, which everyone raved about.    History is always better with food.

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Blueberry Crumb Cake
Streusel:
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup light brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1 stick unsalted butter, melted
1 1/3 cup flour

Cake:
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 extra large eggs, room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
2/3 cup sour cream
1 1/4 cup flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup fresh blueberries
confectioner's sugar for sprinkling

Preheat oven 350F.  Butter and flour a 9" round baking pan.

For streusel:  combine 1st four ingredients in bowl.  Stir in melted butter, then flour.  Mix well.

For cake:  Cream butter and sugar with mixer on high speed 4-5 minutes, until light.  Reduce to low and add eggs one at a time.  Add vanilla, lemon, and sour cream.  In separate bowl sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.  With mixer on low, add flour to batter just until combined.  Fold in blueberries.  Spoon into prepared pan, crumble topping evenly over batter.  Bake for 40-50 minutes until tester comes out clean.  Cool and sprinkle with confectioners sugar.  Enjoy!

Miss P.K.