A Million Little Pieces Of My Mind

After Michael and I had chosen a plot of land in Snowflake, Arizona, but before we actually moved there, we took a flurry of sightseeing trips throughout New England on the expectation that we might well never go back. And one of these trips was to Old Sturbridge Village, a "living museum" showing how people lived in the 1830s. This was similar to St. Augustine, Florida's, Restoration area, for which my Mom had worked for many years; so it was definitely a place we wanted to take her to.

Michael's friends, Wendy and Allan, joined us from Manhattan to make for a pleasant trip.

Maybe too pleasant: I had undiagnosed sleep apnea in those days, and the day was so delightful I decided to stretch out under a great oak tree. Next thing I knew, someone was trying to wake me. "We thought you'd had a heart attack! Are you all right?"

Clockwise from top left: Allan, Wendy, and Mom.

Wendy and Allan strolling the 1830's-style street.

From left-to-right: A stranger, Michael, Wendy, Allan, and Mom.

Old Sturbridge Village has a number of "rides" including a ferry across this placid stream.

Michael was impressed with the flowering bushes and trees.