I Finally Understand Why They Did It

I always thought the women of the Victorian era were nuts. I mean really. Why would any sane woman cinch her waist with a wire corset like that? There is no way it could possibly be comfortable.

Well, last week I figured out why they did it. They did it because if you wear all those Victorian layers without a corset, you end up looking like a bloated toad. And no sane woman wants to look like a bloated toad.

My costume wasn’t period perfect, but considering I only had twenty four hours to throw it together, I don’t think I did too bad. The skirt and bonnet were my grandmother’s. I just happened to have some lace up boots because I’m weird and I actually wear those all the time anyway. The petticoat under the skirt I fashioned out of a shower curtain. Now that the festival is over, I’ll have all winter to plan a proper costume before the Village opens again in May.  I assure you, next year I’ll be wearing a corset. I just don’t think the bloated toad look works for me.

Meanwhile Back at the Barn

Remember back in March when I told you we would be getting a new barn roof soon? I was optimistic we would run right out and find someone willing and able to do the work.

 

Eight months and countless phone calls and quotes later we finally found an Amish construction crew that not only understood why we wanted an old-style roof and knew how to do it, but didn’t want to charge a million dollars for the work.  Everyone else thought we should tear it down and build a new metal pole barn. Because, of course, everybody’s doing it.

Anyhoo, the crew was able to fix up the dents and dings the tree created in the rafters and proceeded to put the new roof on as if they’d done this all a million times before. I suspect they had. It was almost picturesque watching them work in their Amish garb. Then I spotted the crew leader talking to his boss on a cell phone and the warm fuzzy feeling went away. I had no idea they could do that. I wonder if they use them while they’re driving their buggies?

But I have to say they did a bang up job and managed to get a new roof on in less than two days.

It even has skylights for the golden girls since they’re afraid of the dark. (insert rolling eyes)

 

“Hey, there are bats in there. You’d be afraid too” said Rose.

Living History

I love, love, love living history museums. Always have. I have fond memories of visiting many as a child and even fonder memories as an adult. We visited Conner Prairie over the weekend and it reminded me how much I love them.  I am in awe of the historic buildings.

 

I am inspired by the interiors.

And, of course, I love the animals.

But my favorite part has always been the people. The living historians that go about their day in period dress, portraying life during the their particular time period.

 

I’ve always secretly wanted to be one.

Starting tomorrow, I will fulfill that dream. I will become the farmwife at the 1900 era homestead at Billie Creek Village. If you’re local, and you’re attending the Covered Bridge Festival this year, stop by and see me. I’ll be tending to the garden, keeping the house, knitting, spinning, sewing and feeding the chickens, sheep and goats. You know, all the stuff I do every day.

Fishers Renaissance Faire

I’d never been before. It’s not really my time period. I’m more of a Civil War gal myself, but the kid has wanted to go for a long time so we spent Sunday afternoon at the Renaissance Faire. While I enjoyed the spinning and wool dying demonstrations, the guys were entertained with some good, old-fashioned mortal combat.

Nothing like the bashing of metal to get the blood going. The kid was even recruited into their militia and trained to fight off jousters.

Which was good information to know because we just so happened to run into a few of those guys later in the day. 

The faire was interesting. Again, not really my time period, and I would rather attend a more authentic reenactment. Ye Old Pretzels served heated in Ye Old Microwave didn’t really give me the feeling that I had stepped back in time. And I still don’t understand why there were pirates and fairies there, but still a pleasant afternoon was had by all.

In the end, as we were preparing to leave, it occurred to me that the faire is really just the medieval version of Gencon or Comicon. No harm in that I suppose.

My Cheating Heart

I thought I would never love another. I thought Sophia was the only one for me. I was wrong. We visited Conner Prairie on Sunday. The Dorsets in Prairie Town just ignored me.

But the Tunis? The Tunis adored me.

I have to admit the feeling was mutual.

 

I’m now desperately in need of some red headed sheep with floppy ears.

A Bit of a Dry Spell

According to my notes, it hasn’t rained here on the farm since sometime back in July. The creek has long since dried up.

 

And the spring-fed pond has been reduced to just a puddle. The large family of turtles who live there are still alive for now, but if we don’t get some rain soon they will suffer losses. I would have to believe you can only sustain so many turtles in a puddle.

Of course the pastures are not growing. We started feeding hay weeks ago, much earlier than expected. The fat bottom girls are once again trying to claim the hay feeders as their private birthing room.

 

Unfortunately, my sense of humor has dried up along with everything else around here. However, I’m trying to pull and claw my way back out of the rut life keeps pushing me into lately.

But honestly, some days it’s easier just to take a nap and hope it’s a better day when I wake up.

Jack’s Jungle Room

I had a few gourd seeds. They were old. I never really thought they would grow. Not only have they grown, they’ve taken over the entire garden and are consuming Old One-Eyed Jack’s assisted living facility.

Jack doesn’t seem to mind though. It gives them some much needed shade and he thinks it makes the place feel like a fantasy room at a swanky hotel.

In fact, when we were discussing it, he suggested the only thing missing were a few mirrors on the ceiling inside the coop and wanted to know if I could get some for him. I explained that interior decorating is generally left up to the ladies and we had better get their opinion on the matter before taking on any such projects.

When asked, Hester Prynne replied, “Are you nuts? He’s already been running around, puffing out his chest and shouting ‘Me Tarzan.’ If you put mirrors in there we’re out of here.”

“Sorry Jack, they’re not interested in the mirrors” I said.

 

“Well, then how do they feel about a hot tub?”