mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

Today I drove more winding backroads, crossing into New York state, until I reached a bridge over the Hudson River. My photos of it aren’t very good, but I tried…

Another state.  I think this is #19? 20?
Another state. I think this is #19? 20?
Over the Hudson River.
Over the Hudson River.
A view of the Hudson from the other side.
A view of the Hudson from the other side.

Then I wound down the eastern side of the river until I got tangled in some serious traffic, er, made it to Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow, where Washington Irving built his house, and set the most famous of his short stories.

No, that so-ridiculous-it’s-fun (at least for the first couple of seasons) TV show of the same name isn’t filmed here. It’s actually filmed in South Carolina, but it is set here. And apparently there’s been a small Twilight-esque run on this place in the last few years because of it. Not to the extent that Forks, Washington, has been taken over, but enough that the lady who sold me my ticket to visit the house looked like she wanted to roll her eyes at me when I commented on it.

Irving was the first person in the United States to make his living writing fiction. He wrote a lot of other things, too, history and satire and so forth, but it was his fiction that made his name. His house was the second most visited home in the 19th century, after Mount Vernon.

It’s a pretty cottage (Irving’s word), described by our guide as a pastiche of many architectural styles, from Dutch to Spanish. The front door is all but encased in wisteria, ivy, and bad hair day (trumpet) vine, and it took an act of will for me to get through it [wry g]. I did remember that from my first visit here, in April, 1981, with my mother while I was visiting my parents during the year and a half they lived in Connecticut.

According to the plaque, this sycamore tree on the Sunnyside property was alive during the Revolutionary War.
According to the plaque, this sycamore tree on the Sunnyside property was alive during the Revolutionary War.
The front of Sunnyside, almost smothered with wisteria on the left and trumpet vine on the right.
The front of Sunnyside, almost smothered with wisteria on the left and trumpet vine on the right.
The back of Sunnyside, with the docent who took us through.
The back of Sunnyside, with the docent who took us through.
Believe it or not, this is Sunnyside's ice house.
Believe it or not, this is Sunnyside’s ice house.

It was fun to see the house again, though. It stayed in the Irving family (Washington Irving was a bachelor, and he left the house to his nieces) until the 1940s, over a hundred years after it was built, and it was purchased not long after that by the Rockefellers and preserved as a historic site, so it’s in much the same condition (and filled with much of the furniture) it was in when Irving died.

Anyway, I enjoyed it, as I always do this sort of thing. The last time I was here it snowed that night and knocked the power out at my parents’ house. Too bad we couldn’t split the difference between that visit and this one. The house itself isn’t air-conditioned. Thank goodness for thick stone walls. It could have been much worse inside than it was.

After I left Sunnyside, I headed for Danbury, Connecticut, and listee Irene, who offered me a bed for a couple of nights. Her parents hosted the listee curry party at Denvention in 2008, which was great fun, and we’ve corresponded off and on ever since. She has a nice place nestled on a hillside, and I hope she’s having as nice a time hosting me as I have being her guest.

Tomorrow I shall explore around Danbury (Irene has to work), and then on Friday I am headed for the Connecticut coast and Mystic Seaport. Beyond that, we’ll just have to see.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

The first thing I did this morning was get my hair cut for the second time since I left home, at a Great Clips (where I’ve been getting my hair cut for years) in Quakertown, Pennsylvania. The second thing I did was drive to Allentown, Pennsylvania, where I went to JCPenneys in the Lehigh Valley Mall to replace the khakis that did not survive yesterday’s laundering (no, it wasn’t the washing machine – I knew they were on their last legs when I left home, and Quakertown is where they died [g]).

I also saw some interesting signs as I passed through town, too.

Now *that's* a last name!
Now *that’s* a last name!
Look at the founding date on that hotel.  Things are so old here!
Look at the founding date on that hotel. Things are so old here!

Then I wound north and east on Route 57 to the New Jersey state line, where I was confounded by how pretty and bucolic the countryside was. The last time I was in New Jersey, I only drove the turnpike from Philadelphia to New York City and back, and it was ugly and urban. Apparently not all of New Jersey looks like that. Who’d a thunk it?

Beautiful, bucolic northwestern New Jersey.
Beautiful, bucolic northwestern New Jersey.
Isn't that a cool tunnel?
Isn’t that a cool tunnel?

Around 1 pm I stopped just south of the town of Washington, New Jersey (and didn’t those road signs confuse me!), where I ate some of the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life for lunch. If you’re ever in that neighborhood, I highly recommend the pizza by the slice at Desiderio’s Brick Oven Pizza. My gosh, was it good.

I also stopped in Hackettstown,  when I saw a sign for the town’s historical society museum.  It was a classic small-town historical museum, full of all sorts of stuff, including something I’d always wondered about — a melodeon.  In one of my favorite children’s book series (the Melendy books by Elizabeth Enright), one of the characters plays a melodeon, and I’ve always wondered what one looked like (sorta like a small piano with about half as many keys).  Today I finally had my curiosity on that subject satisfied.

I drove on up through the northwest corner of New Jersey this afternoon, and now I’m just south of the New York state line, in a motel on a hilltop just a mile or two north of a ski area, believe it or not. It’s actually pretty darned hilly. And so pretty. It’s cooler and less humid here, too! Yay! I mean, 90dF is cooler, right? It sure feels like it is.

The view from my motel.  Hopefully I'll be able to do hostels and camp more after I spend a night or two with Irene in Connecticut.
The view from my motel. Hopefully I’ll be able to do hostels and camp more after I spend a night or two with Irene in Connecticut because I’ll be farther north and closer to the ocean.

Tomorrow I think I’m going to visit Sleepy Hollow, and Washington Irving’s house. I haven’t been there since 1981, when I was visiting my parents while they were living in Connecticut.

Then it’s on to New England. At last.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

I took Loralee to the Baltimore airport this morning. I have to say that a) I’m going to miss her, but I’m seriously glad to be out of that motel, and b) it’s so good to be out of the city!

I drove around Baltimore on its beltway, then headed northeast on the same highway Katrina and Teri and I took to get to Longwood the other day. I turned off before I passed it, though, and headed up into Pennsylvania.

Is it just me or does this look like Kansas?  Along the road in Pennsylvania.
Is it just me or does this look like Kansas? Along the road in Pennsylvania.

I’m generally headed for New England now, but while I was looking at the map last night, I noticed a place on the map marked Hopewell Furnace National Historic Site. Curious about why a furnace would be historical [g], I headed in that direction. As it turned out, Hopewell Furnace was what I think of as a Henry Ford Museum lightbulb machine.

Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

Sometimes you (or I, at any rate) take things for granted, without thinking about how they’ve come to be, until you see something that jolts you and makes you realize that, no, these things do not spring full blown from the head of Zeus. My primary example is the lightbulb machine in the Henry Ford Museum in Detroit, which I saw on my last Long Trip 17 years ago. Now tell me. Have you ever thought about how light bulbs are manufactured? I didn’t think so.

Well, yesterday I learned how cast iron was made back in the 18th and 19th centuries, which was something I’d never considered before. It was made by hand, by skilled craftsmen, each one supported by an infrastructure and a cadre of workers, then the results were hauled off by horse and wagon to the cities where they were sold. I had no idea that iron was originally smelted using charcoal, and that places like Hopewell Furnace went through hundreds of cords of wood every year.

Butterflies on purple coneflowers at Hopewell Furnace National Historic Site.
Butterflies on purple coneflowers at Hopewell Furnace National Historic Site.
Stoves cast at Hopewell Furnace in the 1800s.
Stoves cast at Hopewell Furnace in the 1800s.
Part of the CCC-restored (of course) Hopewell Furnace National Historic Site.  The house is the home of the owner of the furnace.
Part of the CCC-restored (of course) Hopewell Furnace National Historic Site. The house is the home of the owner of the furnace.
A charcoal pit, where so much wood was burned so iron could be smelted.
A charcoal pit, where so much wood was burned so iron could be smelted.
Looking back towards the cooling sheds, where the charcoal was cooled before being used in the furnace.
Looking back towards the cooling sheds, where the charcoal was cooled before being used in the furnace.

Hopewell provided iron for cannons at Yorktown and in the Civil War, as well as cookstoves that were prized for decades, and many kinds of smaller pieces.

Anyway, the site was fascinating, although the heat and humidity made walking around the actual reconstructed town problematic, of course. The visitor center had a terrific little movie about the place, too.

A very strange sign along the roadside in Pennsylvania.
A very strange sign along the roadside in Pennsylvania.
I absolutely love the old stone houses in this part of the world.
I absolutely love the old stone houses in this part of the world.

After I left Hopewell Furnace, I headed towards somewhere I’d stayed at on my last Long Trip, a hostel in a state park about an hour northwest of Philadelphia. It’s in an old stone house that was the landowner’s before he gave the land to the state, and it’s a peaceful, quiet spot, which I much appreciated.

With the proprietor’s help, I also found a laundromat, so I’m set for clean clothes again for a while. And I managed to keep from getting drowned when the skies opened again, too.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)
I'd never heard of a kiss and ride lot before..  This is at "our" Metro stop.
I’d never heard of a kiss and ride lot before.. This is at “our” Metro stop.

This morning’s wake-up was interesting, in the Chinese sense. We were awakened fairly early this Sunday morning by a lot of yelling down in the parking lot, and the sound of glass shattering. When I looked out of my window, a woman was pounding her fist on the hood of a car whose driver looked like he was considering running her over. All of this was happening in the parking space right next to Merlin. It looked scary, but by the time we were up and dressed and ready to go to breakfast, the parking lot was empty, and Merlin was fine. But when we left, there were seven, count ‘em seven police cars along the street and in the motel’s driveway. They were still there by the time we came back from breakfast, but were gone by the time we got back this afternoon.

I will be really glad to leave this motel tomorrow, believe me.

Anybody want two tickets to the National Aquarium in Baltimore? We were pretty much still recovering from yesterday’s fiasco this morning, and decided that you know, yes, it was $35 a ticket, and we’d already paid for them, but it was just more than we could handle to get up there and back, so well, that’s just the way it was.

Instead we made a short day of going back to the National Mall, taking a very short walk from the Smithsonian Metro Station to the Museum of American History, spending the morning there in the AC and eating lunch there, then walking the short walk back, poking our heads into the Smithsonian Castle, and calling it a day. For one thing, I am taking Loralee to the airport first thing in the morning, then heading north, and after six nights in one place I’ve got a lot of packing and reorganizing to do. So does she. But for another, yesterday was hard on both of us, and we just needed to take it easy.

I’m glad we got to go back to the American History Museum. I loved that museum with a passion seventeen years ago, and I still love it just as much. I adore the fact that it’s not just political or official or whatever history museum, but that it chronicles popular culture as well. We went through the room with Dorothy’s ruby slippers and Archie Bunker’s chair (as well as a lot of other interesting stuff), then we went through another exhibit chronicling American wars from the French and Indian War up through Desert Storm.

Judy Garland's ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz.
Judy Garland’s ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz.
A WWII ration book like the one Will and Karin had in Homesick.
A WWII ration book like the one Will and Karin had in Homesick.
Archie and Edith Bunker's chairs from All in the Family.
Archie and Edith Bunker’s chairs from All in the Family.
A same-sex wedding topper!
A same-sex wedding topper!
Apolo Ohno's speedskates from the Olympics when he took so many medals.  He's a local boy back home.
Apolo Ohno’s speedskates from the Olympics when he took so many medals. He’s a local boy back home.
George Washington's mess kit.
George Washington’s mess kit.
Part of the Berlin Wall.
Part of the Berlin Wall.
George Washington wearing a bedsheet, carved in the 1840s.
George Washington wearing a bedsheet (it’s supposed to be a toga), carved in the 1840s.  And, yes, it was controversial back then, too.  It’s supposed to be all symbolic and stuff, but basically it just looks silly and disrespectful.

After lunch we headed over to the Smithsonian Castle, which I’d never been inside of before. It’s basically just the visitor center for the Smithsonian in general, but it’s a pretty building, with a nice garden out back. Oh, and James Smithson’s crypt.

Mr. Smithson's crypt, in the Smithsonian Castle.
Mr. Smithson’s crypt, in the Smithsonian Castle.

Then, as we were headed back to the Metro, Loralee said there was supposed to be an exhibit put on by something called Turquoise Mountain here (in a building next to the Castle) that she’d heard of, about Afghanistan, and would I mind if we stuck our heads in the door for a few minutes.

Wow, am I glad we did. Turquoise Mountain is a non-profit helping the people of Afghanistan recover their indigenous crafts and industries after so much was destroyed there, and the exhibit turned out to be one of the biggest highlights of our visit to DC. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves here, but it was gobsmacking. Beautiful, beautiful work.

I agree wholeheartedly with this statement, from the Turquoise Mountain exhibit.
I agree wholeheartedly with this statement, from the Turquoise Mountain exhibit.
Gorgeous wooden jali screens.
Gorgeous wooden jali screens.
A hand-carved geodesic dome.
A hand-carved geodesic dome.
Hand-dyed wool (using natural dyes and mordants).
Hand-dyed wool (using natural dyes and mordants).
And the spectacular rug created from hand-dyed yarns.  That thing is about 8 feet wide and 12 feet long at least, and the stitches are so *tiny*!
And the spectacular rug created from hand-dyed yarns. That thing is about 8 feet wide and 12 feet long at least, and the stitches are so *tiny*!
A close-up of the rug.
A close-up of the rug.

So now I’m procrastinating about packing up, and well, I need to get my act together here. It’s been a weird visit, in a lot of ways. Saw a lot of good things, had some seriously strange things happen, and I was really happy to have Loralee here.

But I have to say I’m seriously happy to be hitting the road again tomorrow, and to get the heck out of this motel.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)
This was above the entrance at Union Station.  I agree, wholeheartedly.
This was above the entrance at Union Station. I agree, wholeheartedly.

Today was just one of those days. I suppose it had to happen sometime, but honestly.

We had planned to catch the MARC train to Baltimore to go to the National Aquarium today, but when we arrived at Union Station, it was to find that we had just missed the train, literally, and that the weekend schedule had so few trains that there was no way to go there, have enough time to actually see the aquarium, and get back in the same day. And, yes, I had attempted, unsuccessfully, to check the weekend schedule online that morning.

So, Plan B. Which somehow found us riding Metro back to the Smithsonian station, then getting on the circulator bus (that’s supposed to be part of the weekly Metro Passes we both bought when we first got here on Wednesday, but our passes kept beeping that they weren’t working – the drivers just waved us on, but still) that goes round the National Mall, and ending up back in Union Station to eat lunch. Don’t ask.

Then we decided to go see monuments (which we had planned to do on Sunday). Which should have been fine – we saw the Martin Luther King, Jr., Memorial, which is a lovely statue, but doesn’t actually look like Mr. King, IMHO, then we made the monumental (sorry) mistake of getting off the circulator bus to see the Lincoln Memorial. It would have been fine if a) the circulator bus, which was supposed to run every 10-15 minutes, still hadn’t shown up after over an hour, and b) the bus stop hadn’t been in in the blazing sun with nowhere to sit down in the 100+dF heat index. We finally abandoned hope when I started feeling sick from the heat and managed to get over to a refreshment stand to buy cold water (yes, we’d been drinking as much water as we could carry, but we’d run out) and sit in the shade for a bit, before Loralee had the absolutely brilliant idea to hire a pedicab (yes, the pedicabs were out in this horrible weather) to take us to the nearest Metro station.

The Martin Luther King, Jr., Memorial.  It's *huge.*
The Martin Luther King, Jr., Memorial. It’s *huge.*
Looking across the Tidal Basin from the King Memorial, with lots of zoom.  That's the Jefferson Memorial.
Looking across the Tidal Basin from the King Memorial, with lots of zoom. That’s the Jefferson Memorial.
I figured I'd cap what seemed to be turning into a Lincoln pilgrimage.  Boy, did that turn out to be a mistake.  I'm glad I saw him again, though.
I figured I’d cap what seemed to be turning into a Lincoln pilgrimage. Boy, did that turn out to be a mistake. I’m glad I saw him again, though.
And another view of the Washington Monument, this time from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.
And another view of the Washington Monument, this time from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

The pedicab driver was a very nice young man in blond dreadlocks with the most amazing leg muscles I’ve ever seen on a human being. At any rate, he hauled us to a Metro station and we got on it and came back to the air-conditioned motel and drank a couple of gallons of ice water each, I think.

Oh, and I got us lost again coming home from the restaurant for supper. I swear, I’ve gotten lost at least once a day since I picked Loralee up from the airport, and the only driving I’ve been doing is to get us back and forth to the Metro station and to eat. Sigh.

The sky from my motel room tonight.  It was quite something.
The sky from my motel room tonight. It was quite something.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)
A better view than yesterday's of the Washington Monument.
A better view than yesterday’s of the Washington Monument.

Today is my mother’s 92nd birthday. Yes, I sent her flowers, and I called her. I’m a good daughter [g].

This morning, after one false start when Loralee discovered that her wallet was missing (I found it on the back of the commode in her bathroom), we went to a special temporary exhibit at the National Geographic Museum, called from Agamemnon to Alexander. All about the Greeks, and chockful of fascinating artifacts, most of which were thousands of years old. The story was really well told, too, and the exhibit was much bigger than we thought it would be. Counting the extra travel time, it took most of the day and was worth every minute.

The only bad thing was that photography was prohibited, so I can’t show it to you. Here’s the website, though:  http://www.nationalgeographic.com/thegreeks/

After a lunch of crab cakes we went back to the National Mall, where we hit basically one exhibit at the National Museum of American History before we decided we’d pretty much had it for the day. The one exhibit we did look at was a history of transportation from early days till the modern era, and it was fun. It very much reminded me of the Henry Ford Museum when I was there on my last Long Trip seventeen years ago.  We also briefly stuck our heads into a history of food from the 1950s to the present.

An 1840s fire truck.
An 1840s fire truck.
A neat graphic display of Route 66.
A neat graphic display of Route 66.
Julia Child's kitchen.
Julia Child’s kitchen from the food exhibit.

 

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)
The inside of the L'Enfant Plaza Metro Station.  I just love the ceiling in there.
The inside of the L’Enfant Plaza Metro Station. I just love the ceiling in there.

Getting around today was much easier than yesterday, with one minor exception late this afternoon (yesterday was something of a fiasco directions-wise, but at least now I know where I’m going). We got up and onto the Metro, and took it down to L’Enfant Plaza, where we caught the circulator bus. The circulator bus goes around and around the National Mall and the Tidal Basin and up to Union Station. Unlimited rides are included in our seven-day Metro passes, which I’m really glad we bought yesterday.

We rode the bus around by Union Station and on to the National Museum of Natural History.

I’d been there before once, briefly, on my first Long Trip, but basically just to poke my head in to see the Hope Diamond late one afternoon. This time we spent the whole day there. Gemstones were just the beginning. We also saw dinosaurs, and animal skeletons (which were much more interesting than you’d think – the birds in particular just fascinated me), and the kinds of displays they called the Dead Zoo in Dublin when I was there in 1998 [g]. Lots and lots of really well constructed taxidermy, in other words.

The Washington Monument looking like it's coming out of the tower of the Smithsonian Castle [g].
The Washington Monument looking like it’s coming out of the tower of the Smithsonian Castle [g].
Harry the elephant in the rotunda of the Natural History Museum.
Harry the elephant in the rotunda of the Natural History Museum.
A ginormous aquamarine in the gemstone section of the Natural History Museum.
A ginormous aquamarine in the gemstone section of the Natural History Museum.
One of the heads from Easter Island.  I've always wanted to see them in situ, but I suspect this is as close as I will get.  It was right across the way from a totem pole from Washington state.
One of the heads from Easter Island. I’ve always wanted to see them in situ, but I suspect this is as close as I will get. It was right across the way from a totem pole from Washington state.
I loved, loved, loved the bone room, which was really weird.  This is a swift, which is worth more than its weight in gold as a species for how many mosquitoes it eats.
I loved, loved, loved the bone room, which was really weird. This is a swift, which is worth more than its weight in gold as a species for how many mosquitoes it eats.
The skeleton of a penguin.  I had no idea they had such long necks.
The skeleton of a penguin. I had no idea they had such long necks.
A triceratops from the abbreviated dinosaur display (they're redoing the dinosaur room and it won't be open again till next year).
A triceratops from the abbreviated dinosaur display (they’re redoing the dinosaur room and it won’t be open again till next year).
 I *love* the expression on the leopard's face.
I *love* the expression on the leopard’s face.
More dead zoo, this time the Australian section.
More dead zoo, this time the Australian section.
One of the few glimpses I got of the White House.  I sure hope Trump doesn't end up living there.
One of the few glimpses I got of the White House. I sure hope Trump doesn’t end up living there.

After we exhausted ourselves (it’s amazing how much walking through a museum – especially a huge crowded one – can tire you out), we got back on the bus, which this time took us around by the Tidal Basin on our way back to the Metro station.

Then the Metro to our station, and back to the motel.

All in all, a really good day. Tomorrow morning we have tickets to an exhibit about the ancient Greeks at the National Geographic Museum, then we’ll probably spend the rest of the day at the American History Museum.

I could literally spend months here and not get bored. But I’d have to do something better about where to sleep.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)
Evidently they've been doing some work on the U.S. Capitol building.  The scaffolding gradually disappeared over the five days of our visit.
Evidently they’ve been doing some work on the U.S. Capitol building. The scaffolding gradually disappeared over the five days of our visit.

The 18th and the 19th, with only a couple of exceptions, were mostly logistics, and I have no photos from those days, sorry [g]. The first exception was the Bujold listee dinner, which was wonderful. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting Karen, Nicholas, and Kenton, and the six of us (me, Katrina, and Teri, too) ate at an Indian restaurant. Given that this was only the second time I’d ever eaten Indian food in my life (the first time was at a James Bryant curry party at the Denver WorldCon in 2008), and the first time I’d ever ordered Indian food in a restaurant, which basically meant I was doing the equivalent of closing my eyes and poking a finger at the menu, then asking please no cilantro or coriander (same thing, different names), it was quite amazing how good my meal was. I had a very herby tomato soup, then a stew based on chickpeas that tasted basically like a really great beef stew. With the stew came what I can only label as a sopapilla (sans honey) on steroids. It covered three quarters of the plate, puffed up a good six inches, and when I tore it open a huge cloud of steam emerged. But it was all delicious. Thank you so much, Nicholas, for pulling this all together, and for paying for my meal, and to everyone else for coming. I had a marvelous time.

The next morning I said good-bye to Katrina and Teri, packed up, and headed out to run a few errands, then south to DC to the motel where Loralee and I had reservations. It’s an – interesting, yes, that’s the word – motel just over the line into Maryland from DC, and its main attraction is that it’s close to a metro station. But it’ll do. I kicked back until about three, then drove back up to the Baltimore airport to pick Loralee up.

It’s good to see her again (we live just a few miles from each other). She and I have been friends for almost a quarter century (hard to believe that!), and I’ve been looking forward to her trip here to spend time with me in DC since before I hit the road almost two months ago (you’ll note I’m not calling it Washington – it’s too confusing in my backbrain because to me Washington is on the other side of the country – so DC it is).

We made it back down to the motel (without traffic a half-hour drive – during rush hour, more like an hour and a half), went out to dinner, got her registered at the motel, and crashed.

This morning, we made something of an adventure of finding the Metro station (why not a single map in our possession marked the Metro stations I do not know), but we did, thanks to an incredibly nice lady we met in the drug store where we stopped to ask directions, who had us follow her car to it. I don’t think we’d ever have found it otherwise. Then, when we were trying to figure out the electronic ticket kiosk, a gentleman who works there helped us poor, befuddled tourists buy our pass. People have been much, much nicer here than I had been led to believe.

And at last we were on our way to the National Mall!

We ended up spending most of the day in the Museum of the American Indian, which was fascinating. That one’s been on my list since I first heard about it. It didn’t exist the last time I was here. I learned a lot about both North and South American Indians, as well as Native Hawaiians, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I also got to eat frybread with my lunch [g].

The wonderfully fluid outside of the Museum of the American Indian.
The wonderfully fluid outside of the Museum of the American Indian.
What Loralee described as a rather salacious sculpture inside of the Museum of the American Indian.
What Loralee described as a rather salacious-looking sculpture inside of the Museum of the American Indian.
One of the many gorgeous textile pieces.
One of the many gorgeous textile pieces.
Believe it or not, this is a violin.  Cool, huh?
Believe it or not, this is a violin. Cool, huh?
This is a 500-1000 year old Inka (that's how it was spelled in the museum, not Inca) cloak made out of *macaw* feathers.
This is a 500-1000 year old Inka (that’s how it was spelled in the museum, not Inca) cloak made out of *macaw* feathers.

Then, for something completely different, we ducked into the Air and Space Museum, which was extremely crowded, so we didn’t stay long.

The original USS Enterprise model, from TOS show.
The original USS Enterprise model, from TOS show.
This life-sized (so to speak) Yoda was in the gift shop at the Air and Space Museum.  He can be yours for the low, low price of $1000,
This life-sized (so to speak) Yoda was in the gift shop at the Air and Space Museum. He can be yours for the low, low price of $1000,

Loralee moves a bit more slowly than Katrina and Teri (she’s 15 years older than I am and had back surgery last year), and I have to say that was not a bad thing. We both have a few must-sees on our lists, and if we get to see most of them I’ll be happy. I’m just so glad she’s here that that’s more than enough, frankly.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

Wifi is non-existent at this motel, sigh, so if I post blog before the 25th, it will be from this McDonalds.

Type at you then!

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

Today was a four-part day.

We got up early and went to a farmers’ market under a freeway in downtown Baltimore, where Teri picked up her weekly CSA allotment of veggies, then, after we dropped them back off at the house and ate a breakfast of big, gooey cinnamon rolls also purchased there, we headed to Fort McHenry, a national historic site on a point of land in Baltimore’s harbor, where the battle that inspired Francis Scott Key to write our national anthem took place. It’s a classic star fort (the shape of the embankments and buildings), with re-enactors marching around wearing wool in this ungodly heat, and playing the fife and drums. In a way, it kind of reminded me of Fort Larned in Kansas, only instead of being surrounded by prairie, it was surrounded by water.

This is the commander of Fort McHenry during the Battle of Baltimore, which is the battle the national anthem was written about. You can't see the expression on his face, but he looks *bored.*
This is the commander of Fort McHenry during the Battle of Baltimore, which is the battle the national anthem was written about. You can’t see the expression on his face, but he looks *bored.*
This was a neat map of Chesapeake Bay in concrete behind the visitor center.
This was a neat map of Chesapeake Bay in concrete behind the visitor center.
Soldiers doing the fife and drum thing in wool uniforms in the hot sun in 90+dF temperatures and humidity at Fort McHenry. They were good at it, though.
Soldiers doing the fife and drum thing in wool uniforms in the hot sun in 90+dF temperatures and humidity at Fort McHenry. They were good at it, though.
A view of the inside of Fort McHenry. That's the powder magazine in the barn-like building.
A view of the inside of Fort McHenry. That’s the powder magazine in the barn-like building.
Looking out over Chesapeake Bay from the embankment trail at Fort McHenry.
Looking out over Chesapeake Bay from the embankment trail at Fort McHenry.
And another statue (I think this one is of Armistead, too, but I wouldn't swear to it). Anyway, he was startling when I came around the corner.
And another statue (I think this one is of Armistead, too, but I wouldn’t swear to it). Anyway, he was startling, staring so intently, when I came around the corner.

I learned a lot about the battle, and the War of 1812, and that Key was actually in the custody of the British when he wrote the lyrics, and lots of good bits of information to fit into my mind as steel trap for useless trivia (well, not useless, but you know what I mean).

The Enoch Pratt Free (public) library, which is famous in certain circles (I remember it being written up in Library Journal years ago). It happened to be near where we ate lunch.
The Enoch Pratt Free (public) library, which is famous in certain circles (I remember it being written up in Library Journal years ago). It happened to be near where we ate lunch.
Baltimore has a Washington Monument, too.
Baltimore has a Washington Monument, too.

We were going to take the water taxi over to the Inner Harbor area to eat lunch, but it turns out you can only buy tickets on the Inner Harbor side, so we got back in the car and Teri drove us through downtown Baltimore again [wry g] to a place to eat lunch, and then parked near the Inner Harbor where we explored around. This was the place that reminded me of Victoria, although it’s more just the geography (the harbor surrounded by the city thing) than anything else.

"Chessie" paddle boats on the Inner Harbor. Apparently Chesapeake Bay is supposed to have a Loch Ness type monster the way Lake Champlain is supposed to.
“Chessie” paddle boats on the Inner Harbor. Apparently Chesapeake Bay is supposed to have a Loch Ness type monster the way Lake Champlain is supposed to.
The USS Constellation, on Baltimore's Inner Harbor.
The USS Constellation, on Baltimore’s Inner Harbor.
The Seven Foot Knoll Lighthouse. It's a screwpile lighthouse, which was common on Chesapeake Bay. In the 80s it was relocated to the Inner Harbor and renovated into a museum. I'd never seen a screwpile lighthouse before, so I found it fascinating.
The Seven Foot Knoll Lighthouse. It’s a screwpile lighthouse, which was common on Chesapeake Bay. In the 80s it was relocated to the Inner Harbor and renovated into a museum. I’d never seen a screwpile lighthouse before, so I found it fascinating.
An interesting old building near the waterfront. I'm told it was a museum, but it's no longer open.
An interesting old building near the waterfront. I’m told it was a museum, but it’s no longer open.

The highlights were McCormick Spices’ flagship store, the USS Constellation, and one of the more unusual lighthouses I’ve ever seen. But it was ungodly hot again, and we were all fading fast by the time we got back to the car. I really enjoyed it, though.

Then, that evening, we drove to the other side of Baltimore, to a drive-in theater which claims to have the biggest screen in the United States. It’s gigantic, I’ll give you that. The whole place, though, is a serious throwback to the 1950s, including some of the most un-PC concession advertisements I’ve ever seen in my life. They’ve also got rules out the ying-yang and are apparently control freaks about them. But it was fun. Oh, and I enjoyed Finding Dory, and, to a lesser extent, The BFG (double feature and a short to begin with – the short was a Pixar thing about sandpipers). But we didn’t get back to Teri’s house until almost two a.m. It was worth it, though.

Today we’re just sitting around – we were going to go to the Great Falls of the Potomac and hike around a bit, but it was 95dF when I went outside this morning, so that got nixed. After three days of pretty much solid sightseeing in this heat, we’re taking it easy (and I’m doing laundry) until this evening when we’ll be driving down towards DC for the listee dinner. I’m really looking forward to that. Then tomorrow I shall be picking Loralee up at the airport!

Which reminds me, I really need to clear off Merlin’s passenger seat and make space in the back for her suitcase before then.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

I’m so glad I wasn’t doing the driving today. Downtown Baltimore is a nightmare to drive in, and they were doing construction on top of that. Teri was amazing to get us all through that and still manage to take us where we were going.

That said, I really liked the Inner Harbor area. We walked along the waterfront for a bit, and saw some interesting sights including a very odd piece of sculpture with a wonderful fountain at its base, and the weirdest trash collector I’ve ever seen. We ate lunch at a Lebanese restaurant (I’d never had Lebanese before, but it was close enough to Greek that I kind of knew what I was doing, and it was pretty tasty).

This, believe it or not, is a contraption that scoops garbage out of the Inner Harbor.
This, believe it or not, is a contraption that scoops garbage out of the Inner Harbor.
This is a sculpture celebrating Polish history.  It had a wonderful fountain as its base, too.
This is a sculpture celebrating Polish history. It had a wonderful fountain as its base, too.
This, I'm told, is the Bromo-Seltzer tower.  Apparently the guy who invented it lived in Baltimore.
This, I’m told, is the Bromo-Seltzer tower. Apparently the guy who invented it lived in Baltimore.

Then we drove around in the traffic for a bit more until we arrived at a park called Federal Hill (at first I thought Teri had said Federal Hell, and wasn’t that in DC, not Baltimore?), which gave us lovely views of the Inner Harbor area, and had a cute playground with a pirate ship and a screwpile lighthouse jungle gym.

An extremely bizarre sculpture, viewed from Federal Hill.
An extremely bizarre sculpture, viewed from Federal Hill.
Another view from Federal Hill.  That tan area is a beach volleyball venue.
Another view from Federal Hill. That tan area is a beach volleyball venue.

The playground at Federal Hill.  That's a screwpile lighthouse (a common lighthouse construction in Chesapeake Bay), and a pirate ship [g].
The playground at Federal Hill. That’s a screwpile lighthouse (a common lighthouse construction in Chesapeake Bay), and a pirate ship [g].
Then we went to the Museum of Industry, which was fascinating. Sort of like MOHAI in Seattle, oddly enough. We went on a tour of the museum with a guide who was knowledgeable and entertaining, and who even operated some of the machinery on display for us. We saw stuff about canning oysters (and vegetables in the off-season), and a working machine shop from the turn of the last century, and a tailor shop, and a pharmacy (Noxema was invented in Baltimore [g]). And we saw a print shop with a linotype machine that made me feel very old.

The linotype machine at the Museum of Industry.
The linotype machine at the Museum of Industry, and our tour guide.

My first full-time “permanent” job was as a display ad proofreader at a chain of newspapers in the Bay Area, and we worked in the same room as the folks who set the type for the articles and the ads. This was in the days before computers were widespread in that industry (I worked there from 1980-1983, and they were just moving to computers for part of the process when I left), and I remember the linotype machines.

Oh, well. It was a lovely museum, and I had a very good time. We were going to go to one of the last drive-in movie theaters in the country tonight, but there’s another thunderstorm booming and crashing (and, for a few hours at least, dropping the temperature to something resembling human) out there, so no movie for us, at least not tonight.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

Today was the day I finally got to go see Longwood. Katrina’s been posting photos of the huge estate garden originally owned and developed by Pierre DuPont back around the turn of the last century for a long, long time, and I have been drooling over same about that long. At any rate, I’ve been wanting to see Longwood for years, and it was the one thing I wanted to be sure and do while I was visiting here.

It’s a two-hour drive up across the Pennsylvania border to Longwood, and on the way we stopped at a place where Katrina knew of eagles. We saw several, and this is the best photo I got (cropped and enlarged to a faretheewell) of a baby eagle.

See the immature eagle? Although he does seem to be behaving himself.
See the immature eagle? Although he does seem to be behaving himself.

Then it was on to Longwood, where we spent the rest of the day walking around in the 90dF humidity looking at everything. We ate lunch there, and got ice cream, and stayed until almost dark. I was absolutely exhausted by the time we left (according to Teri’s phone, we walked over five miles), but it was so worth it. What a gorgeous, gorgeous place. I think I’ll let some of the almost 300 photos I took speak for themselves.

The rainbow border. It runs from blue flowers on one end to red ones on the other. It's *amazing* and long, and there were so many flowers that I don't normally see because the climate's so different.
The rainbow border. It runs from blue flowers on one end to red ones on the other. It’s *amazing* and long, and there were so many flowers that I don’t normally see because the climate’s so different.
I don't remember exactly where this little dude was, but he was adorable.
I don’t remember exactly where this little dude was, but he was adorable.
The other end of the rainbow borders.
The other end of the rainbow borders.
And one of a bed of gorgeous red cockscomb blossoms.
And one of a bed of gorgeous red cockscomb blossoms.
This little fellow is an anglewing butterfly. He was along one of the walkways.
This little fellow is an anglewing butterfly. He was along one of the walkways.
A variegated hydrangea.
A variegated hydrangea.
The Italian water garden.
The Italian water garden.
One of many, many in full bloom waterlilies in the conservatory courtyard.
One of many, many in full bloom waterlilies in the conservatory courtyard.
A lotus growing with the waterlilies. I don't think I've *ever* seen a lotus in blossom before.
A lotus growing with the waterlilies. I don’t think I’ve *ever* seen a lotus in blossom before.
One of the many, many tropical plants in The Conservatory That Ate New York. Seriously, you could have fit twenty little Tacoma Seymour conservatories in it and still have room left over.
One of the many, many tropical plants in The Conservatory That Ate New York. Seriously, you could have fit twenty little Tacoma Seymour conservatories in it and still have room left over.
A rainbow sherbet hibiscus flower in the conservatory (there were a dozen different kinds of hibiscuses there.
A rainbow sherbet hibiscus flower in the conservatory (there were a dozen different kinds of hibiscuses there).
The meadows. Which were also full of flowers.
The meadows. Which were also full of flowers.
A whole bunch of liatris in the meadows.
A whole bunch of liatris in the meadows.
This is the atrium of Mr. DuPont's house, and the biggest split-leaf philodendron I've ever seen.
This is the atrium of Mr. DuPont’s house, and the biggest split-leaf philodendron I’ve ever seen.
Purple martin houses fully occupied in the idea gardens.
Purple martin houses fully occupied in the idea gardens.
Flower beds in the idea garden.
Flower beds in the idea garden.

And on the way back to Teri’s house we drove over the Susquehanna River at sunset. It was a great ending for the day.

The Susquehanna River at sunset.
The Susquehanna River at sunset.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

I didn’t end up taking too many photos today. I did pop up into Delaware for a few miles, then came back west across the Eastern Shore to the highway. I didn’t stay on it for long, though, turning west at a sign for the Oxford-Bellevue ferry. It was not free (it cost $12 for Merlin and me), but it was scenic, and nice out on the water. I’ve never had my car be the only one on the ferry before (the capacity was nine vehicles).

The view from the Oxford/Bellevue ferry.
The view from the Oxford/Bellevue ferry.
Merlin all by himself on the ferry.
Merlin all by himself on the ferry.
Arriving at Bellevue.
Arriving at Bellevue.

After I reached the other side of the Choptank River (which was more an inlet into the bay than a river), I drove west to the tiny tourist town of St. Michaels, and then on to the point at the end of Tilghman Island, or almost to the end. The very end of the point is a private inn, and unless you’re staying there you can’t go all the way. I kind of wish I’d known that before I drove out there, but c’est la vie.

A pretty little church on Tilghman Island.
A pretty little church on Tilghman Island.

It was still a pretty drive. When I got back to St. Michaels, I ate a flounder sandwich at a local café, and then banana ice cream across the street at a little place called Justine’s. I haven’t had banana ice cream in I can’t remember how long, and it was delicious.

Then it was back to the highway. I turned off before I got there onto a back road the map insisted did intersect the highway a few miles further on, and it did, but a bit further than I expected, which was a nice thing.

I stopped at a produce stand and bought cantaloupe and big beefsteak tomatoes to take to Teri’s house, and then went up – and up, and up – and over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (as opposed to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel). It’s almost as tall and long as the Mackinac Bridge in Michigan, but it felt longer. I think it might have been the traffic, which got pretty intense, and did not let up through Annapolis and up into Baltimore. But Katrina’s directions were very good, and I had no problem finding Teri’s house, so that was a relief.

Up and over the Bay Bridge.
Up and over the Bay Bridge.

Nobody was home when I got there, but Teri had told me where to find a key, so I let myself in, and she arrived soon afterwards. Katrina was a bit later because she’d had to have her car worked on before she left Pennsylvania to come down, but by the time it was dark we were all together, so that was good.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

But first I crossed a bridge. Although calling this thing a bridge is like calling what Crocodile Dundee had a knife [wry g]. Twenty-three miles long, with two, count ‘em two tunnels. The Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel is an amazing feat of engineering, IMHO. It was so cool.

That ship's going to hit the bridge!  Well, no.  See that building way up there?  That's a restaurant.  On the bridge, at the southern entrance of the first tunnel.  Bizarre.
That ship’s going to hit the bridge! Well, no. See that building way up there? That’s a restaurant. On the bridge, at the southern entrance of the first tunnel. Bizarre.
Taken from the restaurant parking lot with *lots* of zoom.  Pretty cool, huh?
Taken from the restaurant parking lot with *lots* of zoom. Pretty cool, huh?
More bridge.  The water was so calm, but I couldn't help but think that it's a good thing they get lots of warning about hurricanes to get people off that thing before it hits.
More bridge. The water was so calm, but I couldn’t help but think that it’s a good thing they get lots of warning about hurricanes to get people off that thing before it hits.
This is an extremely disconcerting picture.  That's the second tunnel in that gap.
This is an extremely disconcerting picture. That’s the second tunnel in that gap.
The entrance to the second tunnel.
The entrance to the second tunnel.
And the exit.  The tunnel is two lanes, but the bridge (actually a pair of bridges) is four lanes.
And the exit. The tunnel is two lanes, but the bridge (actually a pair of bridges) is four lanes.
Looking back at the northern end of the bridge from a viewpoint on the Eastern Shore.
Looking back at the northern end of the bridge from a viewpoint on the Eastern Shore.

I liked Virginia’s Eastern Shore, too, although it was more bucolic than photogenic. I did make a “that looks interesting” stop at a place called Almshouse Farm, just off U.S. 13, which runs up the backbone of the Eastern Shore. Turns out it was a museum in an old poorhouse, first built in 1804 (although the existing building is newer than that). Part of the exhibits were about the almshouse, but most of them were about the people who lived along the shore of the bay and the islands. It was definitely worth a stop.

The Almshouse Farm museum.
The Almshouse Farm museum.
The Almshouse Farm Museum had some really wonderful bird carvings.
The Almshouse Farm Museum had some really wonderful bird carvings.

The main reason I’d wanted to come to the Eastern Shore (besides an excuse to drive the bridge-tunnel) was Chincoteague Island. Like every kid of my generation, I’d read the books about Misty of Chincoteague, and I’ve always sorta wanted to see it ever since. Plus it looked like a good place to find a beach. And it has a lighthouse.

I didn’t see any ponies, alas, but I did get to walk on the beach (with a few hundred of my new best friends – there were a lot of people out sunbathing and swimming, but I’ve never been a big fan of swimming in the ocean), and to visit the lighthouse. Assateague Lighthouse was built just before the Civil War, and it’s taller than Gray’s Harbor Lighthouse, which is the tallest one in Washington. Anyway, it was about 100 degrees inside (it was in the 80sF outside and incredibly humid) and there were a lot of stairs and I didn’t make it all the way to the top. I was getting dizzy from the circular staircase, and my bifocals didn’t like it at all, but I think I’d have persisted if it weren’t for the stifling heat. I did get a picture from one of the windows that was at the highest level I reached.

The only photo I have of the ocean at Assateague National Seashore that isn't full of people [g].
The only photo I have of the ocean at Assateague National Seashore that isn’t full of people [g].
Assateague Lighthouse.
Assateague Lighthouse.
A view from near the top of Assateague Lighthouse, taken through a 150-year-old window.
A view from near the top of Assateague Lighthouse, taken through a 150-year-old window.
If this was on the west coast, I'd say it was salal, but apparently salal doesn't grow on the east coast.  The lady at the visitor center didn't know what it was, either, and I can't find anything online.  Anyone know?
If this was on the west coast, I’d say it was salal, but apparently salal doesn’t grow on the east coast. The lady at the visitor center didn’t know what it was, either, and I can’t find anything online. Anyone know?

On the way back from Chincoteague Island (which is divided into three parts – a Seaside-like tourist town (Seaside’s on the Oregon coast), Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge, and Assateague National Seashore), I drove over a causeway to get back to the mainland, and watched the really ominous clouds come closer and closer.

Some seriously ominous clouds on the causeway leaving Chincoteague Island.
Some seriously ominous clouds on the causeway leaving Chincoteague Island.

It rained on me once I got back on the highway, but fortunately the thunderstorm didn’t start until after I found a motel here in Salisbury, Maryland. Which was a real trick because they’re having some sort of national sporting event here in town this week. If it hadn’t been for the nice couple at the tourist center, I’m not sure what I’d have done. It’s still booming and crashing and flashing out there. Fortunately, so far there’s been at least seven alligators between flash and boom.

Tomorrow I’m going to duck up into Delaware briefly (so that I can knock it off of my states-I-haven’t-been-to-yet list), then back over to Chesapeake Bay, where I will make my way up to the Bay Bridge and across to Annapolis and Baltimore, where I will be spending a few days with my friend Katrina and her sister Teri, then picking my best friend Loralee up at the Baltimore airport. She and I are going to explore DC together for a few days before I head north again.

So if my blogging is a bit thin on the ground for the next week or so, that’s why. I will catch it all up once I’m on my own again – or I may have time to blog after all. Who knows?

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

Which is what they call Williamsburg/Jamestown/Yorktown, and the land in between. It’s not as weird as what they call the area around the mouth of Chesapeake Bay, which is Hampton Roads (the local TV stations use the term the way we say Puget Sound area at home).

Anyway, I did not realize I’d want to spend what amounts to over four days here, but there’s just so much to see.

This morning I went back to Colonial Williamsburg, because I had to go walk around it one last time. You don’t have to buy a ticket to walk the streets or go into the gardens or shops, so I didn’t. I went into the dressmaker’s shop and bought a pack of fat quarters of reproduction fabrics, then I wandered around looking at gardens again. So beautiful. Seriously.

After lunch, I went back to Jamestown, and went through the living history museum across the road from where I was yesterday. The living history part consisted of a mockup of a Powhatan Indian village, a reconstructed Jamestown Fort, and those ships I saw from the ferry the other day. It was all interesting, especially the ships, but the real treasure was indoors – a terrific museum detailing the history of Jamestown from before the landing to when the capitol was moved to Williamsburg about a hundred years later. That was where I spent most of my time (it didn’t hurt that it was indoors in the AC on another scorching, humid day [wry g]).

They didn’t let us take photos in the museum, but here’s some Colonial Williamsburg garden photos (just because I can’t resist), and some photos of the living history part of Jamestown Settlement.

Tomorrow is more living history and an auto tour at Yorktown Battlefield, then on to the Eastern Shore.

Bells of Ireland, which also happens to be the first flower I ever grew from seed when I was a kid.
Bells of Ireland, which also happens to be the first flower I ever grew from seed when I was a kid.
Trellises the old-fashioned way.
Trellises the old-fashioned way.
The herb garden behind the apothecary shop.
The herb garden behind the apothecary shop.
Another view of the apothecary herb garden.
Another view of the apothecary herb garden.
Musicians along Duke of Gloucester St.
Musicians along Duke of Gloucester St.
The 114 foot long Susan Constant (a reproduction, obviously), the largest of the three ships that brought the first settlers to Jamestown.
The 114 foot long Susan Constant (a reproduction, obviously), the largest of the three ships that brought the first settlers to Jamestown.
Inside the Susan Constant.
Inside the Susan Constant.
54 people lived in this space for over four months while traveling to Virginia in 1607.
54 people lived in this space for over four months while traveling to Virginia in 1607.
A sailor telling the story of the Susan Constant.
A sailor telling the story of the Susan Constant.
One of the buildings inside Jamestown Fort.
One of the buildings inside Jamestown Fort.
I bet that was miserable to wear in a Virginia summer.
I bet that was miserable to wear in a Virginia summer.
The interior of the first church at Jamestown.  All of these buildings are reproductions built in the 1950s to commemorate the 350th anniversary of the landing.
The interior of the first church at Jamestown. All of these buildings are reproductions built in the 1950s to commemorate the 350th anniversary of the landing.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)
A view along the Colonial Parkway between Williamsburg and Jamestown.
A view along the Colonial Parkway between Williamsburg and Jamestown.

Today was sorta surreal. Jamestown is one of the places I have the strongest memories of from being here in 1991 with my ex. I remember wandering around, looking at the foundations of the buildings of the town, some statuary, and that was about all that was there.

Things changed in Jamestown when an archaeology professor came to visit in the early 90s and asked where the fort was. When he was told that the fort site had been lost to erosion and was out in the river, he said, I bet I can prove you were wrong. They gave him permission to dig and told him he had ten years. He found the foundation of the fort in less than one, and they’ve been excavating it ever since.

The result is that there’s so much more to Jamestown than there was when I was here last time, and the scale of things (they’ve literally found thousands of artifacts) and the knowledge they’ve gained is just amazing. I took a tour led by a young woman who works for Preservation Virginia (the non-profit that is in charge of the excavations, which are adjacent to the NPS land, but not on it), who told the story, and about the excavations, and what they’ve found and how they found it, and was spellbinding in spite of the heat, and in spite of the fact that the supposed 45-minute tour ended up lasting almost an hour and a half. I would not have missed this for the world.

The obelisk I saw from the ferry the other day.  Turns out it was constructed to commemorate the 350th anniversary of the settling of Jamestown in 1607.
The obelisk I saw from the ferry the other day. Turns out it was constructed to commemorate the 350th anniversary of the settling of Jamestown in 1607.
One of the excavations.  This was a cellar with a well in it, and apparently what the settlers did when the wells went bad (which happened regularly that close to the brackish river) was use them as garbage dumps, aka archaeological treasure troves.
One of the excavations. This was a cellar with a well in it, and apparently what the settlers did when the wells went bad (which happened regularly that close to the brackish river) was use them as garbage dumps, aka archaeological treasure troves.
Part of the remains of Jamestown's first church, with four graves at the front, the people inside of which they've been able to identify.
Part of the remains of Jamestown’s first church, with four graves at the front, the people inside of which they’ve been able to identify.

Then, after a very pleasant lunch in the café on site, I went to the museum, where I saw some of the artifacts she told us about. It made it all so real.

This is Jane (they don't know who she actually was, so they just gave her the name).  Her skull proved definitively that yes, the Jamestown settlers did practice cannibalism during the "starving times" during the first winter.  That's her skull on the left, and a conception of what she might have looked like on the right.  Apparently this discovery was *huge* in archaeological circles when she was found a few years ago.
This is Jane (they don’t know who she actually was, so they just gave her the name). Her skull proved definitively that yes, the Jamestown settlers did practice cannibalism during the “starving times” during the first winter. That’s her skull on the left, and a conception of what she might have looked like on the right. Apparently this discovery was *huge* in archaeological circles when she was found a few years ago.
This tiny (three inches maybe?) silver box is a Catholic reliquary, found in one of the graves in that church above.  Which was Anglican.  The story that went with that is too long to detail here, but it was really fascinating.
This tiny (three inches maybe?) silver box is a Catholic reliquary, found in one of the graves in that church above. Which was Anglican. The story that went with that is too long to detail here, but it was really fascinating.

I think even Emerson would have approved.

Deer in the swamp between Jamestown and the visitor center.
Deer in the swamp between Jamestown and the visitor center.
Another view of the swamp and the deer.  There's a very nice jugwalk causeway over it, thank goodness.  Oh, and I've never seen so many dragonflies in one place before.  Too bad none of them would hold still long enough for a photo.
Another view of the swamp and the deer. There’s a very nice jugwalk causeway over it, thank goodness. Oh, and I’ve never seen so many dragonflies in one place before. Too bad none of them would hold still long enough for a photo.
Wooden causeway along the Jamestown Island Road, which was a pretty drive with lots of historical signs.
Wooden causeway along the Jamestown Island Road, which was a pretty drive with lots of historical signs.

There was another museum in the NPS visitor center, but my brain was on overload by then, so I decided to take the little drive around the island, which let it rest a bit (and let me sit in the AC), then I decided to come on back to the motel, since it was getting late in the afternoon already.

Tomorrow I’m going back out to see the museum I missed, then go to the living history museum across the road, and I think I’m going to end up spending a fourth night here, and head for the eastern shore on Tuesday after a morning at Yorktown. I don’t have to be in Baltimore till Thursday, so there’s plenty of time. It’s just that there’s so much to do here!

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

Wow, was it hot today. I don’t think I’ve ever spent that much time in that much heat and humidity (90s, with 60-something percent humidity – they were saying the heat index was over 100dF, which is just Wrong, in the most Ivanian sense of the term). But it was so worth it, and all of the buildings were air-conditioned, at any rate. Their original owners would have been so jealous…

I spent the entire day wandering around Colonial Williamsburg. It’s pricey – one day is $41, getting the ticket holder into all of the historical buildings and all of the craftsman demonstrations, plus two art museums I didn’t make it to – but it was fascinating. I went through the Capitol, and the Governor’s Palace, and several residences, and a tavern, which is not a bar, but more like a B&B or a rooming house.

The capitol building, with a couple of the many re-enactors sitting out front.
The capitol building, with a couple of the many re-enactors sitting out front.
The equivalent of the Supreme Court's room.
The equivalent of the Supreme Court’s room.
A handsome young Colonial gentleman.
A handsome young Colonial gentleman.
The Governor's Palace.
The Governor’s Palace.
A mirror protected from flyspots in the Wythe (pronounced with) house.
A mirror protected from flyspots in the Wythe (pronounced with) house.
George Washington slept here.  In the Wythe House.
George Washington slept here. In the Wythe House.
Stove in the ballroom in the Governor's Palace.
Stove in the ballroom in the Governor’s Palace.

I saw bricks and furniture and barrels and clothing and fabric being made (oh, and fabric being dyed, using natural materials, of course – the red was cochineal and the blue was indigo and the yellow was some kind of bark, and the colors were amazing). Shoemakers and hat makers and wig makers and candle makers and metal workers and just all sorts of crafts. Everything your 18th century colonist needs, well, except that most of the raw materials had to come to them through England, which had a monopoly on shipping, which caused a great deal of trouble. Even local stuff, like the indigo from South Carolina, had to go to England, be processed, and come back to Williamsburg.

Practicing Mr. Gutenberg's profession.
Practicing Mr. Gutenberg’s profession.
Making candles by melting wax over an open fire (in this weather) and dipping the wicks.  It takes about forty dips to make a candle.
Making candles by melting wax over an open fire (in this weather) and dipping the wicks. It takes about forty dips to make a candle.
Another open fire in this weather, this one in the dyeing demonstration.
Another open fire in this weather, this one in the dyeing demonstration.

I ate lunch in the Merchants’ Square just outside of the historical area, because it was considerably cheaper. Still good food, though, just without the ambiance [g].

And I drank more water today than I have ever in one day, I think.

By the time I got back to my motel this evening, I was footsore, and I think I walked more in one day today than I have since I left home.

It was so worth it. Especially the gardens, which were amazing. My photos do not do them justice in any way, shape, or form. Even the little kitchen gardens were gorgeous, full of plants that I haven’t seen blooming in years, because the climate’s so different from home, and I haven’t been to a hot, humid climate in the summertime in I don’t know how long. The crowning glory was the garden at the Governor’s Palace. Boxwood hedges and long, long flowering borders just full of gorgeous blooms.

A simple kitchen garden.  The pink flowers are phlox (which I did actually grow at home [g]).
A simple kitchen garden. The pink flowers are phlox (which I did actually grow at home [g]).
Sunflowers, a house with a nifty chimney, and a garbage can disguised as a barrel.
Sunflowers, a house with a nifty chimney, and a garbage can disguised as a barrel.
Boxwood in a back garden.  Boxwood has a distressing tendency to smell like cat pee, but it is pretty.
Boxwood in a back garden. Boxwood has a distressing tendency to smell like cat pee, but it is pretty.
Part of the Governor's  Palace's gorgeous gardens.
Part of the Governor’s Palace’s gorgeous gardens.

 

I love Williamsburg. I suspect if I lived within a day’s drive, I’d buy an annual pass the way I do now for the national parks pass. And I’d get more than my money’s worth.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

I’ve been on the road for six weeks as of today.  That is so hard to believe.  It’s going fast.

I was only about fifty miles from Williamsburg when I woke up this morning. I did, however, get a late start, and then I made a wrong turn that added about ten miles to the trip, but it was a pretty drive, so I wasn’t complaining. Also, I got to ride a ferry! A free car ferry across the James River, which at this tidal point is more of a bay than anything else. Also, I drove right onto the ferry, and it left right away. No waiting in the heat at all.

The writing on the back window of this van says, "Gettysburg or Bust, Boy Scout Troop 92" somewhere, "North Carolina. There was a whole convoy of them, at least eight vehicles. I thought it was funny.
The writing on the back window of this van says, “Gettysburg or Bust, Boy Scout Troop 92” somewhere, “North Carolina.” There was a whole convoy of them, at least eight vehicles. I thought it was funny.
The James River ferry, the Pocahontas.
The James River ferry, the Pocahontas.
Looking back along the walkway to the south shore of the James River.
Looking back along the walkway to the south shore of the James River.

The ferry ride was fun. I could see the Jamestown NHS from the water, and some tall ships that are part of a living history museum next door (that I’m going to tour while I’m here). It was also about ten degrees cooler on the water, with the breeze (mind, that was ten degrees cooler than ninety-something with air thick enough to drink, but still).

Part of Jamestown NHS. I don't know what the column is, but I'll be sure to find out.
Part of Jamestown NHS. I don’t know what the column is, but I’ll be sure to find out.
Tall ships on the James River, part of the Jamestown living history museum (which is not part of Jamestown NHS).
Tall ships on the James River, part of the Jamestown living history museum (which is not part of Jamestown NHS).

After I got here, I found my motel so I wouldn’t have to worry about it (I’d made reservations last night – I was a bit concerned about arriving in such a tourist destination on a Friday night in the summertime), then I got seriously lost trying to find the Colonial Parkway to Yorktown NHS. I didn’t get there till about four, and most of the site closes at 4:30, but I did get to go through the visitor center. Yorktown will be on my way out of town when I head towards the Chesapeake Bay Bridge/Tunnel in a couple of days (I may spend three nights here, I may stay four – there’s a lot to do and see here, especially for a history buff who eats up living history with a spoon like I do), so I’ll make sure to leave early enough to take the auto tour of the battlefield and see the rest of it then.

A view of the Colonial Parkway, which runs from Jamestown through Williamsburg to Yorktown.
A view of the Colonial Parkway, which runs from Jamestown through Williamsburg to Yorktown.
One of dozens of similar signs along the Colonial Parkway. I chose this one because the content surprised me.
One of dozens of similar signs along the Colonial Parkway. I chose this one because the content surprised me.
A cannon associated with the Marquis de Lafayette, inside the Yorktown visitor center.
A cannon associated with the Marquis de Lafayette, inside the Yorktown visitor center.
A mockup of one of Cornwallis's ships, inside the visitor center. They had the inside mocked up, too.
A mockup of one of Cornwallis’s ships, inside the visitor center. They had the inside mocked up, too.

Tomorrow I am going to visit Colonial Williamsburg. Finally. I’m sorta doing things backwards, from a historical point of view. Yorktown is the newest site (it’s where Cornwallis surrendered to Washington at the end of the Revolution), Colonial Williamsburg is from an older time period, and Jamestown, of course, is the earliest settlement in Virginia (I’m thinking in what became the U.S., but I think St. Augustine, Florida, or Santa Fe, New Mexico, might be older). But that’s okay.

Anyway, tomorrow expect lots of photos of people doing antique trades and stuff, and fancy old buildings and their insides, and pretty gardens (the last time I was here was in April, 1999, and the place was full of tulips – I’m looking forward to seeing what the gardens look like in midsummer).

Oh, and I had an idea for another book today.  I’m kind of afraid it’s a mouthful that’s way more than I can chew, but then that’s what I thought about what later became Repeating History, too, seventeen years ago, so maybe not.  I hope.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

Three days later…

What Mary calls "the green wall," on my way across from Charlotte to Fayetteville.
What Mary calls “the green wall,” on my way across from Charlotte to Fayetteville.
Another crape myrtle, this one across the street from a chicken fast food place called Bojangles, where I ate lunch on the way to Morgan's.
Another crape myrtle, this one across the street from a chicken fast food place called Bojangles, where I ate lunch on the way to Morgan’s.

Independence Day was fun. I made it to Fayetteville by mid-afternoon, and after a bit of confusion arrived at Morgan and Kaz’s house. It’s a cute little house, full of three very large dogs (mostly malamute-husky mix, and one has a bit of lab in him, too). Morgan had just been given a sewing machine as a gift, sans manual, and when she pulled it out of its box, it was a vintage Singer just like mine only I think a few years older. So we went to JoAnn’s, which was open on the holiday, bought some thread and a remnant to practice on, and got absolutely drenched running back to the car in a downpour.

But at least she now knows how to thread her sewing machine, wind the bobbin, and sew with it. My good deed for the day [g].

Then the thunder and the lightning started, and we added fireworks of our own (well, they did), fountains and sparklers and all that fun stuff. The neighbors pitched in with their own supply, too. It was fun.

The day before yesterday I headed north towards my friend Mary’s home, up near the Virginia border about 150 miles away. Finding her house was a bit of an adventure, too, but I did it, even if I had to pass way too much kudzu to do it.

Mary lives with some friends, in a sort of mother-in-law apartment, way out in the country. It was good to see her because the last time I saw her was in 2011 when we went to the Reno WorldCon together. We pretty much chatted non-stop the whole time I was there, but the best part (aside from meeting her slighly psycho cat Miles – I told her she was tempting fate to name him after Miles Vorkosigan!) was yesterday when we took a drive to some local landmarks.

First we went to Pilot Knob, which you can see really well from a viewpoint on the highway, and which you can also drive up, almost to the top. The views are pretty spectacular, with the haze from the humidity blurring the horizon again.

Pilot KNob, North Carolina.
Pilot Knob, North Carolina, with daylilies in the foreground.
A zoomed Pilot Knob.
A zoomed Pilot Knob.
A view from the lookout on top (well not on the knob but just below it) of Pilot Knob.
A view from the lookout on top (well not on the knob but just below it) of Pilot Knob.
A very blurry horizon from Pilot Knob.
A very blurry horizon from Pilot Knob.

Then we drove around to Hanging Rock, but just about the time we got there the skies opened up again, so I never actually got to see the hanging rock itself. But we did go to a nice place for lunch. And then she showed me – or tried to show me – the house she used to live in with her husband before he died. But the driveway (which was basically more pothole than road, and really, really steep and slick because of the rain) was gated shut halfway up. I was so glad there was somewhere to turn around!

We also looked at a few of my photos [g].

This morning I headed out again, across the border into Virginia.  I made a couple of stops, one at a state park where I caught my journal up and ate a picnic lunch, and again at the site of an old fort.

Occoneechee State Park along a reservoir in Virginia, where I ate a picnic lunch.
Occoneechee State Park along a reservoir in Virginia, where I ate a picnic lunch.
This is exactly what almost all of U.S. 58 across southern Virginia looked like. It was like a very mild roller coaster.
This is exactly what almost all of U.S. 58 across southern Virginia looked like. It was like a very mild roller coaster.
Fort Christanna, Virginia, state historical site, which dates from before the American Revolution.
Fort Christanna, Virginia, state historical site, which dates from before the American Revolution.
Black-eyed susans along the gravel road to Fort Christanna.
Black-eyed susans along the gravel road to Fort Christanna.

I’m aiming towards the Atlantic coast. I’m actually headed towards Williamsburg, where I haven’t been since 1991. I can’t wait.

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

mmegaera: (Much Ado in Montana)

So.  I made it to see Morgan and Kaz in Fayetteville, North Carolina, yesterday, where we had a good visit and shot off fireworks, and today I drove from there to Germanton, North Carolina, where I’m staying with my friend Mary (the Bujold listees know her as CatMtn).

Anyway, I suspect blog posts will be sparse on the ground until I leave here.  I’m not sure exactly how long I’ll be here yet.  But we will resume our regularly scheduled blog posts soon, I promise!

Mirrored from M.M. Justus -- adventures in the supernatural Old West.

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