On our last morning in Philadelphia, Son and I walked down to the old section of the city where one finds Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, and Betsy Ross's house as well as many historic churches and meeting houses.
During the summer, the city puts on Once Upon a Nation, a celebration of the city's history. We spent a lot of time here last year chatting with costumed interpreters. (After meeting Ben Franklin last year, Son insisted on dressing as Franklin for Halloween.) This year we just had a few hours. For more on our adventures there, you can soon see Son's account.
As we explored Harmony Lane, Son excitedly pointed to a woman sitting on a bench with her spinning wheel. (I swear, we can find fiber stuff wherever we go.) She was chatting with a printer and a young man teaching colonial-era games. We chatted with her for a while and learned that she also spins publically at the interprative center and also at Betsy Ross's house. Although they are not displayed except when she is there, three wheels belong to the Independence folks.
Son pulled out his homespun to show her. She seemed quite pleased and shook his hand. At a nearby gift store, people can buy a beginning spinning kit (spindles packaged with small amounts of fiber). She teaches folks how to use the spindles and especially loves showing the youngsters who come by how to spin. Ah, a noble enabler!
After a morning exploring and listening to stories on the storytelling benches, Son and I stopped by Reading Terminal Market on our walk back to our hotel. We bought pretzels from one of the Pennsylvania Dutch booths. As we ate ours dipped in spicy sweet mustard, we watched the young Amish women knead the dough and twist it.
Then we met David at the hotel and headed home, just in time to babysit one of Son's young friends while his parents celebrated their anniversary.
The four of us went out for Pho (Vietnamese noodle soup) at a local restaurant. Both David and I felt VERY strange with two children and kept hoping people did not think they were both ours. Being the parent of an only child seems to be an integral part of our identities now....