Showing posts with label living history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label living history. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

OM III


I came up just in time to hear Kevin saying, “...and people would go inside this box and use that phone in there to call people...”
I posted a picture just like this last year; ‘zact same coats and everything, and I remember my sister saying how young we looked. I’m hoping she’ll make some similar comment this year; it will balance out Mama’s frank comment that we looked so tired in our official family picture this year. 

And once again, KE doesn’t want to be rushed. “You go ahead, Mom. I’ll just stay here and watch the tram.”

Look at those wires.

OpenAir Museum II


KE found a leaf pile. 

And we found a forge. The blacksmith was making a tool for cutting shingles, I think. It was a slightly curved blade with a wooden handle at each end. 
The blacksmith seemed so comfortable with his role. Usually you don’t see this kind of competent contentment in someone so young. 

When it was time to go, KE decided to stay and watch. 
“There’s fire in here, Mom.”


Look at those flames.

Monday, December 11, 2017

Openlucht Museum


On the tram. We rode all the way around the village first, to get it out of our system, and then started through the village backwards; farm first. Sometimes the be-moustached conductor acts as a tour guide and gives you some village history. Today he told us that way back in 1912, when this museum opened, a photographer accidentally set fire to one of the barns while taking a photograph. “By the end of opening day,” he continued, “instead of five farms, we had four.”
How awkward for the photographer!


Enormous pigs. Like many good parents, Kevin always tries to make sure the children get all possible educational benefits available in each place we visit, so we went over what pigs are good for, namely, bacon. 

 
“Why work when the wind will do it for you?” Said the man in the windmill, switching to English so the children could understand. 

The bakery fairly pulled us in, with a fire blazing a welcome in the big open oven. We had a fresh apple turnover and bokkepotjes; not as good as Papa’s  potjes of course. It was hard to leave that building!