Thursday, we went off Cape. Can you believe it? Two days before the wedding and we just left people to think for themselves? Madness.
Plimoth Plantation happened to be celebrating a betrothal in their 1647 Dutch/English settlement, and we thought the coincidence of events was too good to miss. We wandered through the native settlement, then went back to the visitor center to get some lunch (had a neat sandwichy thing called a pease cod) and meet up with Alan and Steph. Somehow, apparently, they'd gotten the impression that our betrothal was happening in the 1647 settlement, so watching strangers instead was a great disappointment for them. We hung out in the yard of the bride-to-be's family home, eating strawberries and spice cake, and singing psalms, while Greg fielded wedding questions on my traditional seventeenth-century cell phone in a nearby garden.
Alan and Steph split off to check out the native settlement and head out, while we spent some more time wandering around the colonists' town. The blue sky set off the gray buildings so beautifully, I took entirely too many pictures. Later, a kid who had clearly worked at Plimoth before started singing along with the psalms, and even requesting a few of his favorites; his shorts and t-shirt looked a lot more comfortable than the layers the others had on.
When we got back to Cedar Street, the tent was up in the back yard, the port-a-potty was tastefully hidden behind it, and it was actually starting to look as though a wedding might take place. At the Simpsons' for dinner—our first without margaritas - we met Martin and Judy West, the hands-down winner of the "longest journey" award. The Wests had come all the way from England for our wedding, and they made themselves very useful the whole weekend by watering and weeding around the yard, and by videotaping every event.
After dinner, Hannah correctly identified the moon. Hundreds and hundreds of times.
Plimoth Plantation happened to be celebrating a betrothal in their 1647 Dutch/English settlement, and we thought the coincidence of events was too good to miss. We wandered through the native settlement, then went back to the visitor center to get some lunch (had a neat sandwichy thing called a pease cod) and meet up with Alan and Steph. Somehow, apparently, they'd gotten the impression that our betrothal was happening in the 1647 settlement, so watching strangers instead was a great disappointment for them. We hung out in the yard of the bride-to-be's family home, eating strawberries and spice cake, and singing psalms, while Greg fielded wedding questions on my traditional seventeenth-century cell phone in a nearby garden.
Alan and Steph split off to check out the native settlement and head out, while we spent some more time wandering around the colonists' town. The blue sky set off the gray buildings so beautifully, I took entirely too many pictures. Later, a kid who had clearly worked at Plimoth before started singing along with the psalms, and even requesting a few of his favorites; his shorts and t-shirt looked a lot more comfortable than the layers the others had on.
When we got back to Cedar Street, the tent was up in the back yard, the port-a-potty was tastefully hidden behind it, and it was actually starting to look as though a wedding might take place. At the Simpsons' for dinner—our first without margaritas - we met Martin and Judy West, the hands-down winner of the "longest journey" award. The Wests had come all the way from England for our wedding, and they made themselves very useful the whole weekend by watering and weeding around the yard, and by videotaping every event.
After dinner, Hannah correctly identified the moon. Hundreds and hundreds of times.
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