A Mere Three Years

Has it been three years? Or three decades?

More and more this summer, I find myself yearning for the past. You know — like last year. Before the stay-at-home orders and threat of giving or receiving a deadly illness in a stray cough.

I miss the days when you could decide at breakfast to go on an adventure. Check your calendar for obligations. Pack up some bottled water and perhaps a few snacks. Check for camera and map. Then it’s into the car and off to see something new a hundred miles away. (Give or take on the distance.)

Three years ago a went on such an adventure. After driving past signs to this historic re-created village numerous times, I followed the map to visit.

It was a warm, July day. Not many other visitors were on the grounds. This made the exploring better. The demonstrations, while well attended, allowed a good spot to see and hear the craftsmen/ladies.

American frontier on the cusp of a technology leap.

Fireplaces were the heart of an 1830’s home — heating and cooking.

Blink twice and the 1850’s homes featured iron stoves which used much less fuel and heated more efficiently.

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