|Capturing the context of contentment in everyday life--every Thursday at Like Mother, Like Daughter|
Anyway, scads of museums around the country participated, tickets were available online, Calvin and I needed something to do on Saturday (the weather being gorgeous and The Vicar being otherwise occupied all dang day), and a museum we've been wanting to visit was on the list so we up and went!
|See Calvin down there? That is one huge fireplace!|
We went to the Glencairn Museum, part of the Bryn Athyn Historic district in Pennsylvania. Once a private home, it is now a museum housing mythological and religious antiquities from all over Europe and the Middle East.
I have always loved having a son who loves art, history, and museums in general. He wanted to look at everything and read every plaque. He got a big kick out of this fireplace!
*drool* am I right?
Calvin and I both figure that if the world of Harry Potter were real and we had been able to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, we would both have been sorted into the house of Ravenclaw. We've also been working on trying to make his room look as much like a Ravenclaw boys' dormitory as possible. We decided this room pretty much fits what we imagine the Common Room would look like. Calvin wanted to live here.
Through the keyhole, trying to catch a glimpse of the beautiful grounds beyond.
The fountain in a small garden tucked away in a courtyard. It was so restful and soothing. Now Calvin is after The Vicar to install one somewhere on the church property!
Something about the Autumn air makes me want to cook up all sorts of hearty, delicious things. It's like this every year. Something about the Winter air makes me want to cook, too. And I like cooking pretty well in the Spring, as well. Basically, I hate cooking in Summer and am always just so glad to get back into the kitchen when Autumn rolls around again that I sometimes go a little nuts.
But sometimes, when the air is crisp and the leaves are starting to fall, you just need a big ole pot of stick-to-your-ribs, man-pleasin' chili! I love chili! It's so easy and inexpensive and The Vicar's eyes just light up whenever he's seen that I've made it. WIN!
And what's chili without cornbread? Well, I'll tell you: DOWNRIGHT STUPID. Chili without cornbread is like French onion soup without that thick slab of bread floating on the top. So, yeah, unthinkable is what it is. In this case, I've made corn pudding which is even better (if you can imagine such a thing) than cornbread. It's a cornbread that must be eaten with a spoon. And talk about easy!
And then, of course, there was the night the bananas were threatening to turn. I could smell those bananas throughout the entire house and just knew if I didn't light that oven and start rummaging around in my baking cupboard I was going to wind up with a soggy, banana-scented fruit fly condominium on the kitchen counter.
And, lo! banana bread to the rescue! Chocolate banana bread, to be precise. I tried to make it chocolate banana rum bread but, apparently, I didn't use enough rum. The Vicar did that thing I love where he mumbles that this is awesome with a mouth so full I can hardly understand him. Still, next time, next time, he will taste rum!
Months ago, Nutmeg broke through this door in her frantic attempt to escape the basement and be ever closer to The Vicar (she is seriously obsessed with him). We haven't gotten around to fixing it yet. Yesterday, the big galoot found a use for it when it came time to vacuum. She always disappears when the big, bad, noisy monster comes out of the closet, but this time we couldn't find her in her usual places. Calvin found her hiding behind the door with her head poking through the hole she had made.
This was the only closeup shot I was allowed to take of Calvin during our tour of the museum. Don't ask me why he had to have the sweatshirt balled up on his head. It was one of the conditions he insisted on before giving consent. I think, perhaps, he thought if he gave me a bad photo of him, I would be loath to use it and he would, in his passive-aggressive way, win the photo battle. He don't know me very well, do he?