Peter G. has arrived in Williamsburg to spend a week here. I'll be working most of the time, so today we spent the day together. The first stop was a nine am service at Bruton Parish, the historical Episcopal church on the edge of the historical area. I'd attended concerts there before, but never an actual service, and it was quite refreshing. The sermon was lovely, even if they changed the words to the doxology and totally tripped me up.
Then we headed over to Yorktown for some crabcake sandwiches and beach time. Now, it hasn't rained here in over a month. July 4th (I remember, because I was standing out in it). But when we got out of the trolley at the beach, there was a giant thunderhead looming on the horizon. The weather here is so weird and unpredictable, I didn't worry about it--and sure enough, apart from a spatter of rain, we got nothing. Nothing, that is, except a massive sunburn for yours truly. Arg. "I don't need sunscreen!" she said. "I haven't burned all summer" she said. "It's not that sunny today, anyway!" she said. Famous last words. The only saving grace is the fact that my swimsuit straps covered the area where my bra straps go, so I won't have to freeball it tomorrow at work. Other than that--lobster city.
We had to come back to Williamsburg so Nicki could march in the militia. I still love being in the militia--especially now that I'm getting better, so that I'm more confident in my movements. It's also easier to march in step as well. When you first start marching, it's hard to trust the person next to you, but you really have to. You have to trust that your searjeant will call out the commands in a loud and timely manner. And you can't anticipate. Otherwise you'll be out of line--or worse, firing before everyong else, and getting yelled at. Historically accurate, fun for the guests, embarassing as hell for the person in question. Peter G. had his new 12.1 pixel camera pointed at me the entire time, and he has promised me (poke) to send me some photos (poke, poke) so I can post them here. Poke.
Then we grabbed a sandwich and headed up to the Capitol for a harpsichord concert. I was sort of tired and cranky by this point, but the concert was really entertaining. The interpreter was portraying an actual 18th-century man, Peter Pellam, who was the organist at Bruton from 1751-1802. Before the concert he gave a little speech, but then he gave the whole concert in character, telling stories and cracking genteel little jokes. And the music was brilliant.
By the time the show was getting over, I could see little flickers of lightening out of the window. We walked out into major wind and lightening, coming down the peninsula fast. I had called a taxi to meet us after the concert, so we decided to wait on the porch of Christiana Campbell's Tavern...it was lucky we did, because a few minutes later, it started bucketing down. I mean just--sheets of rain, all the rain we haven't gotten in the last five weeks. And thunder. And lightening. We got home to find the roommate tucked up on the couch, flashlight in hand just in case the power went out.
I had a lot of fun playing tourist today, despite the tiredness and the sunburn. It was really interesting to start the day at Bruton Parish and end it at the Capitol--only a mile apart, but it makes you think about the men who would have been familiar faces at both. I've read a lot of material about how religious the Founding Fathers were/weren't, or how much religion should factor into modern politics, but going from one to the other today, I guess some things will just be endlessly debated.