Today was one of those very special days; a day with silhouetted mind photos that will live in the memory more vividly than any synthetic photograph. First of all, my husband and I were walking, each holding one of the hands of our two-year-old granddaughter, and from time to time taking turns holding her 7-month-old sister. That was pure joy in itself.
However, the memory gets even better. We were in Cardiff, Wales, at the Museum of Welsh Life in St. Fagin's, within walking distance of where our son will be installed as a pastor on October 18. [That in itself is kind of an amazing story. A young man born in Scotland of American/British parents, raised in England, studied in England and Canada, married to a lovely American gal in the state of Montana, and now poised to live and serve the Lord in Cardiff, Wales. But I digress!]
As we walked through the outdoor exhibits I was struck by the wonder of History and the archeology that had contributed to this particular History. We walked through the replica of a 2000-year-old Celtic village; toured authentic ancient homes, chapels, and schoolhouses that had been moved to the museum from various parts of Wales, and almost best of all, walked through a series of row houses, starting with one built in 1800, each house having been built 40-50 years after the last one in the row. The progression of interior design in this row of houses was fascinating, from the change in window and stair designs to the cooking facilities, bedding and wall hangings. What a commentary on Life in the country of Wales.
Interestingly, in the row houses of the early and mid-20th century, there were articles that could be found in the homes of my own grandparents and parents, even during the time that I was growing up. What a strange sensation to view part of one's own life in a 'still life' documentation of History! That's something for all of us to muse upon from time to time.