A Christmas by Candlelight

This year, my sister-in-law, Missy, surprised us with tickets to see "A Christmas by Candlelight" at Old Sturbridge Village. I laughed at the serendipity as this was something I wanted to do for a while--in fact, we just had a family trip to Old Sturbridge Village during the summer with my cousins Billy, Vincent, Jamie, and Crystal!

Christmas by Candlelight takes us back in time to a festive 1830s New England village, with glowing lanterns, costumed interpreters and storytellers, Christmas music, and delicious treats (from mulled cider and hot cocoa to maple and gingerbread cookies).

When we first arrived, they gave us a map and an itinerary. For example, in the church, they played festive music on a romantic guitar, harp, and flute; in another building, they hosted a magic show; and still, in another building, they offered miniature train displays. Other structures, such as individual residences or the general store, featured themed storytellers who taught us how to make crafts or handed out homemade, tasty treats. (I enjoyed the baked treats the most--I wondered if they would mind if I kept on visiting the same house over and over again to continue getting those yummy gingerbread cookies. My family wouldn't let me find out. In fact, one thing I learned is that when you're sightseeing with a bunch of teenagers, be prepared to walk quickly. This was not a group interested in quiet, peaceful strolling.)

It was a chilly night, but not nearly as cold as when we would take the kiddos to Santa's Village in New Hampshire. Most of us wore hats, scarves, and gloves with handwarmers tucked inside. My son, who feels perpetually warm, just wore a lined jacket. I was amazed at how warm his hands were without any gloves!

Overall, it was a special holiday outing with all of Lewie's cousins — the kind we used to have when they were younger and still believed in Santa. Nowadays, with Sarah in college and Lewie and Brooklynn in high school, it is hard to align everyone's schedules for a short trip. (We are discovering this with Lewie's friends, who now have jobs after school.) Instead of holding our kiddos' hands, making them wait in line to get a picture with Santa, our kiddos were leading the pack, chatting a mile per minute while we struggled to keep up. There was a line for Santa, but they unanimously decided to skip it. Conversations were no longer about Christmas and wondering what Santa might leave under the tree; instead, they were about internet memes, Netflix shows, or previous or current high school teachers. 

At one point, I fell behind the group, purposely wanting to take in this new era. I remember being a teenager, but my teenage years were so different from this generation, which was so different from the generation before, and the generation before that...  Indeed, we were trying to capture Christmas in the 1830s — a time before the internet, TV, phones, or even modern electricity. I just finished studying the history of higher education in the United States and learned that only two colleges existed in Connecticut at the time—Yale and Trinity—both established to expand their Congregational and Episcopal religious denominations, which were rivals. Residents of Old Sturbridge Village would have been Puritan (Congregational), and slavery would have been outlawed in their region by this time; however, in another 30 years, some residents would join the Union Army to fight the bloodiest and deadliest conflict in U.S. History, the Civil War.

My mind eventually returns to our present. The quieter, humbler Christmas of the 1830s has been replaced by one of haste, materialism, and capitalism. Instead of receiving a homemade wooden toy or an orange in a stocking, our children dream of plastic Lego sets or cell phones. Life is less physically taxing for us (few of us labor on farms or cook over stone hearths), but it is still as mentally taxing, perhaps more so, as we are constantly bombarded by advertisements and opinions across social media, the internet, TV, and everyday life. Yes, each generation has its own traditions and its own problems. Living in the 1830s was simpler but no easier with war looming. 

Today, I look back on our family time from a week ago and am so grateful for the unique experience of this generation. Life evolves, but memories exist, no matter the era.

Happy 50th Birthday to Me!

I turned 50. It was quick, painless, and without too much fanfare. 

Truth is...I've been feeling like I turned 50 two years ago. Changing jobs and starting at several new places had already had me tackling the big questions — what do I want to do with the second chapter of my life? Do I see myself working another 15, 20, or 25 years?

My health prompted me to ask other questions. Did I go through perimenopause or menopause? Why do I often feel tired and forgetful? 

Last year, at age 49, I began seeking answers. My new career with our state community college system solidified that I want to work in higher education for the rest of my life — and, more, that I want to return to school to pursue higher positions (as I had before). I have just completed two fall courses toward my Doctor of Education and, surprisingly, am making it work — with my career, my son, my husband, my mom, and my friends and family.

I also learned that I am in menopause or even post menopause. With low hormone levels, I've been having the following symptoms:

• Hot flashes and night sweats
• Brain fog, difficulty concentrating, and memory problems
• Irritability, anxiety, and depression
• Joint pain, muscle aches, and weight gain, and
• Exhaustion and sleep disturbances

I changed my diet and started taking supplements to counteract these changes, but truthfully, I still experience a combination of these symptoms every day.  One day it might be exhaustion, depression, and brain fog--another day it might be anxiety, muscle aches, and hot flashes. I am continuing on a path to wellness and may write more about it at a future date.

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For my birthday, I had two requests. One was to go out to my favorite restaurant with my peeps — my mom, hubby, and Lewie.  The second was to go on a romantic weekend trip to Manchester, VT, with hubby.  Lucky for me--I got both my wishes!  

Here is our dinner at the GW Restaurant in Washington, CT.

For our trip to Manchester, VT, Lew and I stayed at the Equinox Resort. It was our first trip without Little Lewie since he was born 17 years ago!  I chose the resort because we knew it well — we went on vacation here fifteen years ago, when Lewie was less than two years old.  

It was interesting going to the same place without a toddler. For one, Lew and I had a chance to dine out at several restaurants and explore the town--something we didn't have the luxury of doing with a squirmy little one in tow.  Second, I had a chance to go for both a massage and a yoga hike! The massage was planned, but the yoga hike was completely spontaneous. The resort offered it as a complementary service. Once I learned the details (hiking half an hour uphill to a mountain lake for an hour of yoga before hiking back down), I was all in. The BEST part of the experience is that when I arrived at the meeting point on Monday morning, I learned that I had the yoga instructor all to myself. We clicked immediately, as if we had been best friends for an eternity, and she showed me a few gentle yoga moves I could do at home to unwind.

Hubby greeted me after my yoga hike for a soak in their outdoor hot tub—the view was spectacular — and then we took a dip in the pool. While we were swimming, an 80-something-year-old water aerobics instructor invited us to join her class, and we had the best time ever. At first, my husband, citing his recent knee surgery, tried to get out of it. She laughed: "Welcome to the club! I've had surgery on both knees." She was fun, energetic, and limber. We joined three other ladies (60+) and laughed as we paddled and kicked through the water. Now, at 50, I've begun to realize I have more in common with this group than with my seventeen-year-old son... I admired our aerobics instructor, wishing that if I'm ever lucky enough to be eighty one day, I hope to have her vitality!

Interestingly, when I first entered the pool area (before our water aerobics), I began to sob. Memories of being in there with Little Lewie fifteen years before flashed before my eyes. It was one of his first pool experiences, Daddy Lew and I taking turns pushing him on his float as he giggled and giggled. 

After a full ten minutes, I finally composed myself--I hadn't had a good, long cry like that in ages. Perhaps the businesses of life suppressed it. No matter, it was needed. When we get older, we miss, of course, the youthful days of our childhood and our twenties. This cry wasn't about that. It was a longing for my thirties, the days of being a wife and a mom for the first time. Oh, how I wish I could relive those moments of Lewie's toddlerhood, even for just a day... The pool may have been empty, but my mind saw Daddy Lew, Little Lewie, and me in there splashing away like no time had passed at all...

During our trip, we also had a chance to drive to the Hildene, the Lincoln family home, after President Abraham Lincoln's death. We visited this place before, when Lewie was five, but the experience was different now that there were just the two of us, meandering around the property at our own pace. (I made sure to visit the gift shop before leaving--purchasing Vermont's specialties: yummy chocolate, maple candy, and cheddar cheese curds.)

On the last day, I had a chance to saunter around the Northshire Bookstore, a must-see not only for book-lovers but also for coffee drinkers, bakers, record-enthusiasts, crafters, and home decorators. (I bought a book called Keep Your Brain Alive by Katz and Rubin--the perfect self-gift for a 50-year-old that wants to remain sharp and relevant.)

Our trip lasted only two nights, but I arrived home feeling well-rested to tackle the last two months of the semester. (Well, almost... during my massage, the door to the massage room kept mysteriously opening. "What's going on?" I asked quizically as my masseuse closed it for the second time. "It's probably just the ghosts," she said, half serious, half laughing. "You know this place is haunted.") On my last night at the hotel, I slept with a few lights on... still, it was the perfect trip to welcome in a new decade.

Family Fun at Old Sturbridge Village

At Christmastime last year, I purchased tickets for my family to attend Old Sturbridge Village. (I'm big on buying "experience gifts" rather than "things.") Having been there twice before, I thought the family would enjoy going, and I was right! We all held onto our tickets until the last day of school and chose a Friday in June to go together. It would be Lewie and me, our cousin Vincent and his wife Jamie, and our cousin Billy with his daughter Crystal. Vincent, Lewie, Crystal, and I had been to Old Sturbridge Village before; however, it would be a new experience for Jamie and Billy. Even for Vincent, it felt like a new experience since he hadn't been there in nearly 40 years--back when he was in grade school. 

In short, Old Sturbridge Village is an outdoor history museum that models a rural New England town from the 1830s.  It includes more than 40 historic buildings, such as a mercantile, church, bank, meeting house, water-powered mill, houses, and tradeshops. The museum features costumed docents throughout its 240-acre property, depicting everyday life in the town. Some docents are farmers, riding up and down the streets in their horse-drawn wagons; others are making shoes, smelting iron, sculpting clay pots, or selling goods in the mercantile. (For any "Little House on the Prairie" fans, this is the place to be!) It was a time that was certainly harder — void of modern medicine and today's electronic luxuries — but also a time when family and life's simple pleasures mattered.

Here are some pictures of our fun excursion. P.S. We visited while Old Sturbridge Village was displaying a unique public art event called the CowParade. The CowParade is just that--life-size, fiberclass cow sculptures painted by local artists, which are later auctioned off to support local charities. We had a lot of favorite cows! 

In the 1800s and 1900s, shepherds would walk on stilts to cross marshy or swampy areas to avoid sinking into the ground or getting bitten by venomous snakes. The stilts also gave shepherds a higher position to protect their livestock from harm.

(Now that I am taking college classes again to earn my Doctorate of Education, it took a while for me to finish this post, but I'm so glad I did. A lot has changed since June. I started school, my cousins Vincent and his wife Jamie moved from Connecticut to Delaware, and of course, the kiddos [Lewie and Crystal] have started a new school year. Truly, this trip is a snapshot in time. Now that Vincent and Jamie are living out of state again, I don't know when we'll have a family trip like this going forward...

As they say near the end of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it!"