Last night Mom and VL took us office peons to a Christmas dinner at and then tour of a local house museum. Stan Hywet was all dressed up for the holidays, and parts of the house were set up as scenes from A Christmas Carol. Dinner was very nice, although poor VL had to wait about twenty minutes to find out if there was any gelatin in the cranberry-orange relish. The walk through the house was probably more fun for Mom and I, as she is a long-time supporter and has gone on numerous "Nooks and Crannies" tours and I used to be a tour guide there thirty years ago.
I didn't quite finish the tour--the second floor still gets incredibly hot, especially in the daughters' bedrooms, and I was sweating and dizzy, so I headed down to the first floor entrance and waited for everyone else. Fortunately, I thought to ask where the tours exited, and one of the volunteers told me that I needed to be by the family staircase. When I asked if it was the one behind the hidden door in the linenfold hallway, she looked blankly at me, and the other guide said, "I guess you do remember this place!" Another volunteer had to open the door for me, because heaven forbid a museum patron touch something, and I went through it just in time to see Goldilocks' back.
When we got outside, I could have cried at how good the cold air felt. It took at least five minutes until I felt chilly enough to put my wool coat back on. All in all, it was a nice night, and it didn't hurt that I got compliments on my new satin top from two complete strangers.
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