Life under the Lintel: Old timey stuff

Leftover tacos from having the youth group over provided a yummy lunch the next day

Weird homeschooler fridge: reaching past a Solo cup marked “Science” to get the milk out and nobody asks questions

Last week we took an educational trip to Colonial Williamsburg for four days, which we’ve done before, but it’s been a good long while.

We went all in and booked a colonial house right in the historic area.

Not wanting to waste a single potentially-educational moment, we headed out to tour right away.

We started at the Peyton Randolph house, where we looked at the outbuildings while waiting our turn to go in.

Lizzy not appreciating my desire to not waste a potentially photogenic educational moment

Next we stopped in the wigmaker’s shop, which turned out to be more interesting than I expected. Did you know when you bought a wig, you could also purchase the optional maintenance plan where you dropped it off once a week for a wash and comb? It was fascinating to watch the guy work. I was just asking if colonial women wore wigs (they didn’t) when Caleb, heavily bundled against the cold outside, and not having eaten dinner yet, started to sink down the wall and turn white.

We found a back door.

Revived by the cold, we popped in briefly to the tin plate maker, and then headed for a non-educational dinner at Mellow Mushroom.

Our cute little historic house had excellent wifi, if not heating. It was more spacious than I expected and had two bathrooms, so Jason and I didn’t have to creep up the freezing colonial-era stairs in the middle of the night if we had to pee. It also had an unexpected mini fridge and a Keurig.

Dear Colonial Williamsburg Historic Lodging website: I have some suggestions for your house descriptions. A mini fridge is a game changer! And knowing about the Keurig would’ve saved me like five hours of researching the nearest place to fetch Jason’s first-thing-in-the-morning coffee. And if you want to keep it at a historically-accurate temperature inside, that’s fine, as your bedding was quite warm and snug, but maybe give us a warning so I can bring my arctic pajamas for when I’m brushing my teeth.

Come to think of it, the historically-accurate indoor temperature rendered the mini fridge almost moot.

It had a real wood-burning fireplace, but we weren’t allowed to start a fire ourselves. And you know we would have. We had to call housekeeping to send someone, only between the hours of 10am and 10pm, and the outdoor temperature had to be under 50° or else the house would apparently fill with smoke (the second night when we made our request, they refused to send someone because it was 52°, so they said).

In the morning Lizzy and I both got up early—I to run laps up and down Duke of Gloucester Street, Lizzy to go birding.

When I was done she and I walked together to buy breakfast sandwiches and bring them back to our little house.

View out our front door

After breakfast Liz logged in to class and Caleb and I headed out to visit the silversmith. There we learned that if you wanted a silver spoon or pot or whatever, you hand them your money and they melt it down to make your item.

Then we visited the preposterously-spelled gaol, followed by the Presbyterian meeting house, where we naturally took turns standing in the pulpit.

After that we got to hold a super heavy rifle in the gunsmith’s and learn how they start with basically a 2x4 of lead (or iron?) and bend it into the barrel, then carve out the inside with bigger and bigger bits, then make all the other stuff like the flintlock and the brass and wood bits.

After such an educational morning we fetched lunch from the world-famous Cheese Shop and brought it back to eat with Jason and Liz.

After lunch we switched; Caleb started class and I went out with Lizzy.

Liz and I started by visiting the farmer, where they now have the (non-working) windmill and a few sheepies pastured below it. The farmer told us if they let the windmill spin it would fall and smoosh the sheep. So they keep it stationary.

Then we popped next door to the gardener, which is tooootally different than the farmer. They are showing what would be a pleasure/hobby garden for a rich colonial person.

Here, we found some newly-planted roses that we wanted to show Grandma.

Next on my detailed agenda was snacktime, aka coffee time for Mom. We had barely enough time to get a a cookie for Liz and a muffin and coffee for me before we were hoofing it to the art museum to make a 2:00 Declaration of Independence tour.

We slid into the back of the huge tour group as it was beginning, having chugged my coffee and stashed away our contraband snacks at 1:59. Lizzy was the youngest one there by about fifty years, not counting me. The tour guide talked us through the Declaration and showed various artifacts related to it. At one point she asked how many grievances are listed in the Declaration and I was the only one who knew the answer (twenty-seven). My response was met by several dozen gray heads turning around with impressed looks.

That’s right, friends, we’re not just doofuses in the back who came in late wiping coffee drips off my chin.

Tour highlights included such things as Lord Dunmore’s toilet that he left behind when he fled the colony, and a Hessian drum from one of the mercenaries hired by George III (one of the grievances).

After our tour, we found a bench in the sun to finish our snack and wait to meet up with Caleb and Jason.

Once we joined up, we all took a tour of the Capitol. Caleb was dead set against visiting the apothecary, the next thing on my itinerary, because that’s soooooo boring. It’s just herbs in jars, like stuff Mom would drink in a smoothie.

So we tried to visit the printer instead, but it was closed; so we tried to visit the Bray school, but it was closed. So we rushed back to the art museum to see a little more before closing.

Caleb wasn’t as opposed to the museum as to the apothecary, but he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic. And when he saw that they had removed the toy train display he was most seriously grieved.

And that’s why I laughed so heartily when we found a tiny violin.

The museum closed at 5 and our dinner reservation was at 6:30, so we went back to the house to rest for a little bit—a moment I appreciated as my watch was telling me I had walked 22,971 steps (10.8 miles) so far that day, and it was another half mile each way to dinner.

Christiana Campbell’s Tavern

Next morning I ended my run at a coffee shop (Aromas) so I could carry back breakfast for everyone. Then Liz started class and I went out with Caleb.

We started our educational day at the cabinetmaker where we played on a harpsichord.

Then we visited the engraver and watched them do their painstaking, tedious work; next was the joiner (like a carpenter but smaller scale like window/door frames instead of whole houses); then the printer.

Liz and Jason caught up with us at the bookbinder, which was more interesting than expected—and may have actually answered the age-old question of why books have those random blank pages at the end! I wasn’t done asking questions; however, I wanted to get to the 12:00 Weight of Liberty program about colonial-era artillery, so we ducked out.

I think the program was more interesting than either of the kids expected. They selected volunteers from the crowd (not us) to drag the cannon around, clean it out, and pantomime loading, stuffing, lighting, and firing it. It was amusing to watch.

Then the professionals lit for real.

We found some lunch (Lizzy and I split a Brunswick stew, which was yummy on a cold day) and then visited the blacksmith. He was making a spoon, which wasn’t super exciting, but examining the finished locks and keys was pretty fascinating.

Then we visited the carpenter yard, where they were sharpening their tools—also not overly exciting.

Next was snack time at McKenzie apothecary—Caleb was much more interested in that than the apothecary with weird herbs in jars.

Refueled on scones and coffee, we were ready to tour the governor’s palace.

We did the tour, the most informative part of which was hearing the difference between dinner and supper (dinner is a late, hot lunch; supper is leftovers in the evening). Also balls go all night because you can’t travel in the dark. But our guide could not answer the eternal mystery to Americans, When is teatime?

After the tour of the indoors, we spent a while exploring the palace gardens.

Caleb was longing all week to see a train. He had told me before the trip that “Williamsburg will be boring because they haven’t invented trains yet.” They found the train track at the very back of the governor’s property and waited, but alas, no train.

Hedge maze

I tried to cheer Caleb up with the lack of trains in Colonial Williamsburg by taking him to see the wheelwright—because wheels are the most exciting part of trains! But the wheelwright didn’t do himself any favors because all he did was explain how to make oil cloths, which make canvas waterproof.

We moved on to the weaver with low expectations, but she was actually more interesting than expected. In addition to showing us the magic of the loom, she also talked at length about colonial economics and how the colonies decided to boycott British cloth and make their own.

That night we had a fancy dinner at the King’s Arms Tavern.

After dinner we had tickets to an interactive pirate trial in the Capitol. The four of us were selected to help make up the twelve members of the Governor’s Council, which meant we sat up front with the governor. All participants were to hear the trial, cross-question the witnesses as we chose, and then pass judgement on whether the accused was guilty or not guilty of piracy on the high seas.

The first thing that happened when the accused was brought in was that the judge asked him why he didn’t get an attorney. The defendant said that he had no money to attract an attorney, to which the judge said, “No money, no attorney” and moved right along to the trial.

It was the first but not the last time that I wanted to call out my objection.

The judge was openly biased, referred to the defendant as a pirate (no “alleged”) when he wasn’t calling him a wicked sinner, and scoffed at all his objections. The accused had no chance to talk except at the very end when he offered his defense (“I was forced to do it”), which was scornfully cut off. There were no instructions or deliberations allowed to the jury, just an immediate verdict.

Jason and Caleb voted guilty, but Lizzy and I both panicked and didn’t vote.

He was sentenced to hang.

No wonder we started our own country.

Friday morning we ate all our leftovers out of our mini fridge, including fried chicken, pizza, Gatorade, and a turkey sandwich; checked out; and drove to Jamestown Settlement.

We tried our best to recreate this photo of grumpy Caleb in 2017:

We went through the museum, which three of us liked but Caleb said was boring because he already knew all that.

Then we visited the recreated ships.

And then went on to the fort.

The whole area was covered with tons of weird giant Chinese lantern things, apparently because they recently found a single shard of Chinese porcelain at the Jamestown site so now they’re convinced that Jamestown carried on trade with China, which seems like a bit of a leap, but hey, I’m no archaeologist.

So I guess when we visit Jamestown now we’re also celebrating China?