At the Abraham Lincoln museum in Springfield, IL. 
If you are ever in that neck of the cornfields, you MUST go visit--the most amazing, interactive, technologically artistic museum I have ever experienced. Highly educational, very powerful, even for the young kids.One of the highlights for the girls was ending the museum tour at Mrs. Lincoln's Attic, a large room with many different kinds of old-fashioned toys, a historically-correct play kitchen, a large wooden dollhouse with child-friendly furnishings and farm animals, even historical dress up! We could have spent several hours in that one room alone.
G as Abe Lincoln
Back at my parent's home, we made a trip out to the farm where my dad (a retired biology teacher) works much of the year.
There is dad and his farmer friend. . . and Ferdinand sitting just quietly and smelling the flowers.
Happiness to my girls is a field full of flowers that nobody minds them picking.
Have I ever mentioned that I love old barns?
I wrote some in an earlier post about the idyllic stay we had in my parents' home, my childhood home from third grade on. I tried to capture some of the special feel of the neighborhood and the house, but am not a good enough photographer. But these will at least give you an idea of my physical roots, and hopefully convey the tranquility I feel when we are there.
so, places like that really exist? and a childhood such as you had was not only in disney movies? wow. I love the nod to Ferdinand. I loved that short story.
ReplyDeleteThanks for posting a comment, Shera! It was beginning to be a bit lonely in here. : )
ReplyDeleteFunny what you said about disney movies, because in this post i started to relay a story from a few years back: my sisters and i had gathered back in IL for THanksgiving, and my little sister brought a friend of the family for one night's stay, a very young, very backwoods enlisted man. Not too tall, but scrawny, red hair sticking out at all angles, crooked teeth, hillbilly drawl and "yes, ma'am, no, ma'ams." He was very polite and great with the kids, but he definitely seemed a little daunted by his surroundings. Keep in mind, my parents' house is large and the remodeled parts are very nice, but half of it is still an old house with a lot of imperfections--and all very comfortable and homey. But then when we were talking, he put it all in perspective for me--he said that when they were driving up the street to the house, he felt like he was in a movie. I knew immediately what he meant--driving slowly under the canopy of mature trees that meet over the middle of the street, in the clean hush of new-fallen snow, with the old globe streetlights glowing halos in the misty dark, and the cheerful wreaths and colored lights on the houses, the neighborhood looked like something out of time gone by, like it should be captured on a card captioned Merry Christmas From the Good Old Days. Or from a wholesome Christmas feature For the Whole Family. : ) I have never forgotten his impression--I felt that about Christmas at home (or at Grandma's) all growing up. I guess it was not just my imagination.