Thursday, December 13, 2018

Holiday Spirits of 1864: Christmas at the Fort 2018

I am so very lucky.
I get to celebrate Christmas not only multiple times during the month of December, but in multiple time periods as well!
And I do it with two separate families.
My 1860s reenacting family:
We've been working in this
capacity for nearly a decade
and pretty much have our 1860s 
lives of the period down pat. 
Every year since 2009 I have been a very willing participant of Christmas at the Fort, which takes place at Detroit's historic Fort Wayne. Fort Wayne was built in the 1840s on the banks of the Detroit River, and it includes the star fort itself, which holds the barracks where men from the Civil War through Viet Nam (and all the wars in between) were injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and selected (as Arlo Guthrie recited in his Alice's Restaurant epic). So there is quite a history in this fort.
Various homes were built just outside the fort, and the street is known as Officer's Row. It is unfortunate that many of the homes have become dilapidated and are beyond repair. However, there are a number of homes that have been restored to their former glory, and, out of all of the houses still standing here, we - my 1860s family and I - get the most elaborate of them all to use for our house.
Recreating an 1860s family has taken years of research and years of practice. I didn't actively search and seek to form this living history group; we all just seemed to find each other naturally, and everything just fell into place. And though we may not be note perfect - nobody alive today can be for such an endeavor - we make a true and gallant attempt at it and I believe it's very close.
So I thank everyone involved in making this Christmas Past dream come true, for when you find living historians such as those I work with, memories of Christmas past are real.
Some of what you are about to read (in parenthesis) comes from various period books, letters, and diary/journal entries of the 1860s...just to add to the flavor.
But please take note: we are not acting here. We are living out a different time period as if it were truly happening. No scripts. No reminders that we were reenactors ("They would have done this, right?"). Nothing planned other than what many families of the time did during that period such as 'dressing' the Christmas tree and preparing for Christmas.
And I believe that's what makes this so special.

Now, to our story:
I must tell you that my wife and I plan to give a grand family party. All the children, grandchildren, aunts, cousins, from far and near, are to be invited to spend the day.
This is my reenacting "wife and mother-in-law."
The appreciation we have for our actual 21st century
spouses in allowing to reenact in this manner
cannot be over-stated enough. 

Mr. Cary, our next door neighbor, who recently returned
from the war and is spending Christmas with us this year.

Our daughter returned home to visit for the Christmas holiday!
Her husband is off fighting with the 21st Michigan so, rather than spend the time alone, she came home to family.

The whole house was thoroughly warmed and lighted, and every room opened.
It did not take long for our festivities to begin!
The beautiful sounds of Christmas carols
filled the parlor as everyone prepared
for the big day.

Mr. Cary brought along his mouth organ
Now, I'm not sure if it was called a mouth organ or harmonica at this time, and I can find no information to help me with the answer.
Do you know (and not a guess or an assumption, please)?

Violet beautifully played the pump organ, and everyone sang along to such carols as Joy To the World, The First Noel, and O Come All Ye Faithful, while the wooden crate sat, waiting to be emptied of the festoons and other decorations.

Our servant, Candace, kept very busy in the kitchen, preparing our Christmas Eve supper as well as working on our Christmas Day dinner.  Yes, we work our servants throughout the season, for we had our guests and family to tend to.

Larissa made a fine cranberry pie. Given that she works in an open-air museum in her 21st century life, making traditional foodstuffs is second nature to her.
This was my first time having some; methinks we just may have a new tradition.

We decked the front parlor with evergreens, hollyberries, and everlastings, and over the folding doors which separate the rooms we made in green and crimson berries the words “A Merry Christmas.”
The tree, set up carefully upon a table, was set for 'dressing.'
That is...decorating.
“This very day!” said Christine, “this very day. Oh, such fun. A Christmas tree!”
“Won’t it be fun to dress it?” whispered Mother.
Mr. Cary, the tallest among us, positioned
 a bird for the topper.
The process of dressing commenced. From a basket in the corner, Christine drew long strings of bright red holly berries threaded like beads upon fine cord.
These were festooned in graceful garlands 
from the boughs of the tree.
And while Mother was thus employed, Christine and Father arranged the tiny tapers. This was a delicate task. Long pieces of fine wire were passed through the taper at the bottom, and these clasped over the stern of each branch and twisted together underneath.
Great care was taken that there should be a clear
space above each wick, that nothing might catch fire.
Meantime, upon the wick of each little taper, Father rubbed with his finger a drop of alcohol to insure its lighting quickly. This was a process he trusted to no one else, for fear the spirit might fall upon some part of the tree not meant to catch fire.
"I have been looking on, this evening, at a merry company assembled round that pretty German toy, a Christmas Tree. 
The tree was planted in the middle of a great round table, and towered high above our heads. It was brilliantly lighted by a multitude of little tapers; and everywhere sparkled and glittered with bright objects. 
There is probably a smell of roasted chestnuts and other good comfortable things all the time, for we are telling Winter Stories-- Ghost Stories, or more shame for us--round the Christmas fire; and we have never stirred, except to draw a little nearer to it. But, no matter for that. We came to the house, and it is an old house, full of great chimneys where wood is burnt on ancient dogs upon the hearth, and grim portraits (some of them with grim legends, too) lower distrustfully from the oaken panels of the walls. 
Now, the tree is decorated with bright merriment, and song, and dance, and cheerfulness. And they are welcome. Innocent and welcome be they ever held, beneath the branches of the Christmas Tree, which cast no gloomy shadow! But, as it sinks into the ground, I hear a whisper going through the leaves. "This, in commemoration of the law of love and kindness, mercy and compassion. This, in remembrance of Me!"
(this short portion was taken from Charles Dickens "A Christmas Tree" published in 1850)
Larissa adds a few final touches.

At last, all the contents of the basket were on the tree.
No, we really didn't light the tapers, for we were in a
historic home. 

We had a mini-manger scene underneath, as well as a few small toys for the wee ones planning to show tomorrow.

In the 20th century, having an electric train set up 'neath the tree seemed to be the thing to do. However, in Victorian times, a manger scene or a Noah's Ark was a popular part of the decor. And with the Noah's Ark, young children could play out the Bible story...even on Sunday.
So here we see Christine setting up our Noah's Ark - the very same she played with as a child - and when the children come in the morning, it will be ready.

In our reenacting world, the wooden collection of Ark figurines was carved by my grandfather back around the end of the Revolutionary War.

Various mysterious packages, wrapped in paper and marked Grandmother, Papa, Mother, Christine, or Aunt Jen, were put 'neath the tree, that all the delicious mystery of Christmas might be preserved.
Sister/Auntie Jenny read to us from a collection
of Christmas poems and stories.

Christine does not see her aunt very often,
and so she adores sitting on the floor next to her. 

Not that Christine is a child, for she is a 
married woman, and the two took turns 
reading from the book.

Every year at Christmas at the Fort, we will take a few minutes out of the day to enjoy the other Christmas tide festivities and walk around the fort grounds to enjoy some of what we cannot see while inside our home during this event.
I should suggest an earlier tour strictly for participants so that those of us who volunteer can enjoy each other's presentations.
No matter, for we were able to sneak out...and found ourselves about 90 years further back in time, to the 1770s, for Christmas at the Fort is not only centered during the Civil War era, but goes back as far as the Revolutionary War:
Showing off our winter wear.
Larissa and I were dressed a little out of time while we visited the 18th century, 

and if it can be helped we try to prevent from having the paid guests see two 
(or more) separate time-periods intermingling.

General Washington and a few of his men.

Discussing another plan to possibly surprise the enemy as was done the previous Christmas, mayhaps?

Some warmth to squelch the bitter chill in the air.

Some of the men were lucky to sleep in
doors during the bitter cold.

My son, a member of the 1st Pennsylvania
 and his girlfriend, who sews and cooks
for him and the other men.

Moving onward and back into the future, the house directly next door to ours' had ladies from the 1860s preparing packages for the fighting men of the north during the Civil War.
Utilizing the period homes in the way we do allows for a much more authentic presentation, and all of us involved thank the Historic Fort Wayne Coalition for allowing us to do so.

And on the other side of our house we found a southern family representation during the Civil War as well.
Again, the folks here in this house have been doing this for a number of years as well and, from what I have heard, do a wonderful job in their representation.
It was unfortunate that we could not spend too much time roaming, for the touring crowds were many and we needed to get back to our home.
So it was back to our home where the excitement of Christmas Eve and Day were commencing.
Preparing the dining room table
As the daytime hours of December the 24th turned into Christmas eve, preparations for our supper were about to commence, signaling the beginning of the Christmas celebration.
Our Christmas Eve meal was, of course, by candle light and oil lamp. Larissa caught me adjusting the oil lamp (an original from the 1880s) in this photo - one of my favorites of the entire year.

Never was there a more cheerful supper, or one more heartily enjoyed. The table was covered with pork and chicken pies, boiled turkey with oyster sauce, mashed potatoes, turnips, winter squash, applesauce, bread and cheese, cranberry tart, the customary mince-pies and plum-puddings and a large cake called the yule-cake, overspread with leaves and ornaments. And eggnog, the drink of choice.
(okay, maybe not everything listed here, which came from an 1861 story, but we did indeed dine on a fine ham, sausage & apples, bread, cranberries, crackers, cheese, cider, and desserts)
A toast to family, friends...and Christmas!
Eating together as we do here has become, perhaps, the most favorite part of our entire day, just as it would have been in the 1860s. I recall many-a-time visiting Greenfield Village and watching the presenters, while in their period clothing in a historic setting, dine as if they were from the past, and just itching to be able to do such a thing; to be a part of a time long past in such a manner as this...
And now, I get to have this dream come true for me as well.
I must say, when all is said and done, there is something special about eating a fine Christmas meal in a period setting, especially when using only lighting apparatus of the time.
True sensory immersion in every way.
We were there...
Our hard-working servants received useful
gifts on Christmas morning;
the rest were reserved for evening of Christmas Day
during the social gathering.
Just as the singing of carols took place before, the playing of parlor games commenced afterward, including the Twelve Days of Christmas memory game (using all different gifts from the popular song we all know and love today), and an alphabet game.
O! What fun - - -

And before we knew it, the evening was over. It is always a bit sad to take everything down -
un-decorating the tree, etc., - for this is as real a Christmas party as any one could have.
Yes, a fine 1860s Christmas celebration...
Something we did not do that was common in the old days was uniting in prayer before leaving.
As was written in 1860: We knelt while Grandmother offered a fervent, heartfelt prayer. When we rose from our knees, there were a few moments of hushed silence, for all felt the presence of the Savior, whose advent is prominently being celebrated. After cloaks, overcoats, hoods, and furs were on for those who were to go their merry way, there was a reassembling in the parlor for last words.
“What a delightful evening!”
“I never enjoyed myself so well before.”
There was a general cheerful “good night” for those who needed to leave, and then the merry sleigh bells sounding in different directions told us that our visitors were going to their homes.
I think maybe we can add this to our festivities next year.
And, finally, we posed for a group picture in the parlor...

~This 1860s Christmas celebration is as real as any past or present. We remain in 1st person the entire time, even when tour groups are not around to hear. And that, my friends, is what makes the difference: anyone can script and rehearse a presentation, but we let our day continue on as if we truly were a family from 1864, and we do not allow for 21st century morals or attitudes to seep in; yes, we've been doing 1st person/immersion long enough together to successfully be as close to the 1860s as one can. And I can tell you, I am certain that the differences from our celebration to one from 150 years ago were not many.

Until next time, see you in time.
Merry Christmas~

~   ~   ~

Tuesday, December 4, 2018

Spending Black Friday Having a Revolutionary Good Time: Moving Through Time, But Never in a Straight Line:

"Moving through the territories of time,
but never in a straight line.
To and fro, slowly and fast
made my way into the past."

It seems I must make it abundantly clear that I am not an employee of Greenfield Village. Yes, I visit there, quite often in 18th century clothing, which always greatly enhances my visits. Dressing period in a historic setting can certainly engulf one's senses, especially upon stepping into a 250 year old home that is staffed with its own period-dress presenters.
But, I must state once again: I am not an employee of Greenfield Village, nor do I pertain to be.
Never have.
With that being said:
Colonial Black Friday
(picture taken at Colonial Williamsburg and used with their blessings)
I am not a Black Friday person. In fact, I spend the day after Thanksgiving wearing period clothing while visiting historic Greenfield Village.
Well...let's be honest, I spend many-a-day at the Village from April through December, and I enjoy it immensely each visit, but Black Friday, being what it is, makes it an even more special visit for me.
Now, for those who live in what used to be the original 13 colonies, I envy you. You seem to have history everywhere you turn. Even more specific, you have Rev War/Colonial history surrounding you.
Here in southeastern Michigan, there's not much of that, unfortunately. Oh, yes, Detroit was founded in 1701 and had its role in the French & Indian War and the Revolutionary War, but virtually all remnants of that time are lost to the ages.
We do have Mackinaw City and Mackinac Island at the tip of the lower peninsula of our state, both of which also had roles in those wars as well. But it's about a four to five hour drive to get there from metro-Detroit.
Maybe next summer...
So, for my Black Friday visit, I am blessed to have a little bit of the colonies right near my own back yard:
I walk the road that leads to the Daggett House, my very favorite structure inside Greenfield Village. And right next to it is the Farris Windmill, 
originally built in the 1600s on Cape Cod and is considered 
the oldest surviving windmill in the United States.
I am sure my regular readers know the Daggett House as well as I do. The presenters here do an outstanding job in their representation of a 1760s farming family, and ever since I began to regularly visit the Village in 1983, it has been my absolute favorite. If I had a large sum of money to do fun and frivolous things with, building a replication would be near the top of my list! So, though you will see plenty of pictures taken at some of the other historic homes inside Greenfield Village in today's post, much of my day was spent at this house, for the clothing I had on fit the time period perfectly.

By the way, sometimes I may "doctor up" a few of my photos (by way of the Paint Shop Pro computer photo program) to help give a more authentic accent to my text, such as what I did to the picture below. For you see, I wanted to give a visual of 18th century colonial America during a time when men would devote there thanksgiving harvest day morning to hunting or participating in turkey shoots:
Time to go a-fowling...
The gun I am holding is a smooth bore fowling piece, 
used mostly for hunting fowl, hence the name.
(No, I did not bring a gun inside Greenfield Village. 
This is a composite of three different pictures that I have taken at different times and places.
Yes, I know how to do some computer magic to add a bit more realism to my photos)
During the 1700s, individual colonies commonly observed days of Thanksgiving throughout each year, and the governors of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Hampshire began to make proclamations for an autumn Thanksgiving celebration, though at this point in time it was not on any one particular day each year. So it could be in October, November, or even in December.
(for more on our early Thanksgiving celebrations, click HERE)

The Daggett House was built by Samuel Daggett around 1750 in Connecticut right around the time of his marriage to Anna Bushnell. The two raised three children in this house: daughters Asenath and Tabitha, and a son, Isaiah.
Because most of our homes today are so far removed from the architectural style of the break back homes from the 18th century, it is a wonderful opportunity to be able to visit one, especially in Michigan.
(This wonderful picture was taken by Mary Marshall)

Of course, I always enjoy speaking with the long-time presenters, such as the young lady I am with here, for their knowledge is admirably extensive, and to be able to converse and share at length about minute details of the past - the kind of facts only those of us who dig deep into the roots of history by researching beyond the few popular books most tend to read - makes for a time that I enjoy most of all.
And though I may not have that very expensive piece of paper that says I know history, I do know my stuff, for I have been studying all things historical - especially American history and using primary sources whenever possible - for nearly 50 years. There is something to that, I would say.

Although I have been researching period food here and there, I have not yet had the pleasure of cooking over an actual hearth, which I would find interesting and intriguing (yes, men did cook, too, though not nearly as often as women did).
Would cooking period food over an open bonfire with the same implements be considered the same thing?
Hmmm...yes and no. I suppose.

The two women who were working here on this day could almost be sisters Asenath and Tabitha Daggett in the chores they did.

Are we inside or outside?
I do like window reflection photos, such as the one
here. Look closely to see the windmill, out of doors,
and a spinning wheel inside the great hall.

This could be Samuel Daggett chopping wood for the upcoming winter months. That's one chore that was never-ending, for you can never have enough wood.

Most Colonial homes would have needed at least 40 cords of wood for heating and cooking over the course of a year. A cord of wood is 128 cubic feet or roughly a stack of wood 4 feet wide, 4 feet high, and 8 feet long.

Ken being lazy while watching others work.
Naw...understandably, visitors cannot touch such sharp tools as an axe, for obvious reasons. But, once again, a fine conversation centering on early American history took place, including how early Americans would have chopped the trees down by hand with the axe and then split the wood with a wedge.
There was so much to simply heat your home or warm your food.

The presenter here, in his representation of men like Mr. Daggett, spent a good part of his day with the axe in his hand.
On such a cool day as this (mid-30s), he was heated twice: 

the first time while chopping the wood, and the second time by burning the wood 
he chopped. 

Of course, there was a decent-sized woodpile inside the house.
And how much wood is in your kitchen?
(I know a few of you will have some!)
An interesting fact about Samuel Daggett that I discovered is that he helped to defend the Colony of Connecticut during the Revolutionary War, and was apparently stationed in the State House in New London. In 1774, during a town meeting in Coventry, citizens agreed to a non-importation agreement.
Mr. Daggett also paid for someone named Jacob Fox to take his son Isaiah's place in military duty so that the young 17-year-old could stay home and tend the farm. Coventry sent 116 men to Lexington at the start of the war. The community also sent clothing and supplies to aid the war effort.
(This information came from the Benson Ford Research Center, located on the grounds of The Henry Ford)
Shall we take leave of our situation here and make our way to other home visitations?
Right next door we entered another home from the 18th century, the Plympton Home, originally from Sudbury, Massachusetts, which also has Rev War connections.
The grandson of the builder of this home, Thomas Plympton, was born in 1723, and was prominent in town affairs, as well as a soldier during the American Revolutionary War. It was this Thomas that received the news of the beginning of that War for Independence in the town of Sudbury:
"An express came from Concord to Thomas Plympton Esq., who was then a member of the Provincial Congress in that the British were on their way to Concord - between 4 and 5 o'clock in the morning. The sexton was immediately called on the bell ringing and the discharge of Musket which was to give the alarm. By sunrise the greatest part of the inhabitants were notified. The morning was remarkably fine and the inhabitants of Sudbury never can make such an important appearance probably again."
How cool is that?
(Information from the Benson Ford Research Center)
Entering a house that has a connection to the Revolutionary War.
And almost directly across the street, we have yet another home with a Revolutionary War connection:
John Giddings, the builder of this home in Exeter, New Hampshire, and one of the most active and trusted supporters of the patriotic cause in the Legislature, commanded a company of those who marched from Exeter to Portsmouth to support, if necessary, the party of General Sullivan and Laughdon in the raid upon Fort William and Mary in Portsmouth Harbor in December 1774. In 1775, he was nominated for the important appointment of delegate to the Continental Congress, but modestly withdrew his name.
The home once belonging to John Giddings
The idea that I can visit homes in which the owners played a role, no matter how small, in the American Revolution just gives me chills.

I like to think that Mr. Giddings, and even
his wife Mehetable, enjoy having living
historians visit their home in period style.

In this next home, built and owned by Noah Webster, of the Webster Dictionary fame, I found that it was set for a New Year's celebration.
A portrait of Noah Webster hangs over
the fireplace inside the parlor.

The quill'd note is an invitation to a shadow portrait
gathering, to take place on December 19th, though no
year is written.
Shadow portraits were a very popular way of capturing
one's "portrait" in a cheap and fun way.
To learn more about shadow portraits, please click HERE
 Quite the feast was served for the New Year's celebration:
Can you imagine the conversations that occurred around the table as the guests dined on this splendid repast of a feast?
Just to be able to sit in and listen to the stories told of years past... 

"Don't move!"
That was me yelling at Richard to stay right where he was when I snapped this picture, for it seemed to create a silhouette of its own.

Leaving the Noah Webster House: 
yet another home whose owner and builder played a role in founding our new nation (though this house was built around 1822).
As one who mingled amongst the Founders in those early years of our great country, Mr. Webster wrote, in his 1783 edition of his legendary spelling book called 'The American Spelling Book' (which would teach five generations of Americans how to read): "The author wishes to promote the honor and prosperity of the confederated republics of America, and cheerfully throws his mite into the common treasure of patriotic exertions. This country must, at some future time, be as distinguished by the superiority of her literary improvements as she is already by the liberality of her civil and ecclesiastical constitutions. Europe is grown old in folly, corruption, and tyranny---in that country laws are perverted, manners are licentious, literature is declining and human nature debased. For America in her infancy to adopt the present maxims of the old world would be to stamp the wrinkle of decrepit age upon the bloom of youth, and to plant the seed of decay in a vigorous constitution."
The high hopes Noah Webster had for the newly-formed United States cannot be over-stated.

And yet, even though we were visiting homes with connections to the Revolutionary War, we still paid our respects to the "other side" by checking out the Cotswold Cottage, built in England around 1620.
Remember how Aunt Clara from the old TV show Bewitched used to collect door knobs?
This is the kind of ancient door opener I would love to have. It's from the above mentioned Cotswold Cottage.
The Cotswold Door Opener
From the Cotswold Forge

Continuing on my travels throughout the Village, I, again, met with one who is not only a wonderful historic presenter, but someone I consider a friend as well, no matter what time period we are in.
I simply love this picture.
The two of us, both dressed from the same period, were speaking on various historical subjects and had absolutely no idea our image was being captured. To me it has a very natural feel to it, as if two friends of long-ago were enjoying a quick visit, perhaps talking about the recent harvest, before carrying on with the day's activities.

Gary Thomas took this photo. 

I traveled about the Village for the rest of the day, stopping at many of the houses and taking pictures of the autumn celebrations occurring.
As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I spent the entire opening hours inside Greenfield Village, from 9:30 to 5:00, just enjoying every last bit of time I could before they closed up for the winter, aside from their Holiday Nights Christmas event, which only take place on certain evenings in December - and it is well worth the extra admission price, by the way.
Still, it's hard to say goodbye until mid-April...
So, in between time spent at Daggett and my return to that house before closing, I visited other parts of the Village:
City sidewalks dressed in holiday style...

The Smiths Creek Depot, originally from Port Huron, Michigan, where Thomas Edison once worked as a young boy.
 From The Henry Ford: "Thomas Edison passed by this building regularly while working as a newsboy on the Port Huron-Detroit run. The railroad station was the center of 19th century small-town life. More than a place to catch a train, the depot was where customers sent and received packages and telegrams, caught up on the latest news, and shared gossip."
My friends, Kevin & Beth, both dressed in more of a mid-19th century fashion, 
were waiting for the train to come in...
(Beth's cloak, by the way, actually made her appear more 18th century than 19th century, 
which worked in a few of the other pictures you saw earlier).

What would a visit to Greenfield Village be without a visit to Firestone Farm - the boyhood home of the tire magnet Harvey Firestone?
The ladies had just cleaned up after their Thanksgiving celebration given for all of the Firestone historic presenters, including the farmers who work the fields. Yes, they cook everything on their coal burning stove right there in the kitchen.
Whew! Are they whooped!

Afterward, there was parlor entertainment played on the old pump organ. It's a rare occurrence to be able to hear the wonderful sounds of music from long ago while inside a home where the spirits of the past still live (and, no, I am not speaking of ghosts here).

And let's not miss out on the rousing checkers game!
Yes, I did spend time visiting the numerous other homes, most of which were decorated for Christmas, but I shall save those pictures for my Christmas posts.

Next we see an 18th century loom situated inside the weaving shop.
It was interesting to watch the presenter show how the
loom worked. The ingenuity our colonial ancestors had
never ceases to amaze me. 
I remember years ago when they used to have a loom of this type inside the great hall at the Daggett House, shown in my pictures below, which helps to make the words from the Village's placard come to life:
"In rural areas, producing cloth was often a family affair. Everyone old enough to contribute had a task...

...growing flax or tending sheep, combing to straighten the linen or wool fibers, spinning fibers into thread or yarn, and weaving the thread and yarn into cloth."
Every-so-often I find myself interested in acquiring a loom. My own 5th great grandfather worked on a loom that I would imagine was something like this, since it was during the same period in time.
Not to be for me at this time.

I would like to close out today's blog by showing some end-of-the-day pictures as I ventured back to the Daggett House. You see, with Greenfield Village closing at 5:00 pm, I wanted to attempt to snap a few shots while the shadows of late afternoon grew. No, it was not yet dark, but definitely nearing sunset time:
Roy continued chopping wood throughout the day, and by nightfall he was building his rick of wood pile.
A rick is actually a description of the way a cord of wood is stacked. 

The day begins to close, and the last remnants
of items used for presenting were emptied. 

The natural light of the waning day shows in this photograph, taken about five minutes to five.
Oh! How I wish I could have stayed later...

One more picture to take before leaving my favorite house...
when the sun goes down and the clouds all frown, night has begun for the sunset...
Shadows on the ground, never make a sound, fading away in the sunset...

I scurried through what I like to call my time-travel bridge - otherwise known as the Ackley Covered Bridge - to return to the 21st century.
(Another Gary Thomas pic that I didn't know he took!)

The streetlights were aglow...
it was time to go.
So, that was my Black Friday, which is pretty much always my Black Friday.
And, though I am not an employee, I still enjoy visiting in period clothing. It adds something to my visits that cannot be explained.
This is what I am all about - I promote what I love strictly on that basis alone. And I know for certain that my postings have lead many first-time visitors who may have never even heard of Greenfield Village to travel here, often times from out of state.
That's a plus for all involved, now, isn't it?
And now that we are into the Christmas season - my favorite season of the year - you can expect some old-time holiday spirits to raise a glass and show the ghosts of Christmas past as rarely seen in our day and age.

Until next time, see you in time.

And here are more links to Greenfield Village structures that I've written about: 
The Daggett House
The Giddings House
The Plympton House
The Noah Webster House
The Ackley Covered Bridge
The Eagle Tavern
The Firestone Farm
The Richart Carriage Shop
Doc Howard's Office - Tales of a 19th century circuit-riding doctor

Information about firewood came from HERE

~     ~