Thanks to Justin for answering the Murphy’s oil soap question; he washed the warping board before he started using it, to get rid of the “50 years of barn dust.” And more apologies for the poor photo of him; I was stealth snapping trying not to get any visitors in the background. I surprised him more than once, as you can see. Sorry.

Last Sunday I went to Plimoth Plantation’s annual volunteer recognition event. Plimoth, like so many other museums and historical societies and historic houses simply could not function without our many dedicated volunteers. Denise Nichols organized a lovely tea and social for this year’s event, with music and a talk and reading by Peter Arenstam from his book about Nicholas the mouse.

Denise also organized a raffle of items donated by many of the different Plimoth departments. Penny donated on Colonial Wardrobe’s behalf – a lovely hand spun, naturally dyed, hand knit cap, which was won by Karin Goldstein’s intern Sarah. The first photo is Plimoth’s Chief Executive Officer John McDonagh announcing a winner.

The second picture is three of our child volunteers. They and the other children did a magnificent job delighting thousands of Plimoth’s visitors this year, and they had a great old fun time doing it. The program, revamped and reintroduced after a few years’ hiatus, was a smashing success by all measures; the adult interpreters enjoyed the energy and enthusiasm of the children as well as the increase in historical accuracy they brought to the site. Not to mention how cute they are. The visitors also appreciated the family atmosphere, and our child visitors really enjoyed having other children to talk and play with. I’m sure we’ll see them again next summer. (Before you and your kids start making plans, though, please note that all the child volunteers are children of Plimoth employees.)

Here Justin is making his new warp – I believe he said it is 20 yards. For most people this would be pretty ambitious, considering he is working in the Crafts Center only two days a week (at the most) and that there are only a few weeks left to Plimoth’s open season, and that those weeks will be filled with many, many visitors, all of whom want to see him work but also want him to explain what he’s doing, which means stopping working for a moment or longer.

Ambitious for most people, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he finishes it.

I got some good news late yesterday – Dennis came in with the computer’s brains under one arm. “You’re fine,” he said. “CD drive burned out and fried the power source.” Which I roughly translate as “the stars were misaligned for computer work.” or something. Anyway, I lost nothing and it’s all better now.

And, Carolyn, I don’t know what the Murphy’s oil soap is used for in the Crafts Center, but I’ll find out. We have some in the wardrobe office that we use to clean the sewing baskets. We fill the utility sink with warm water and a good squirt of Murphy’s, then immerse an empty basket. We use fingernail brushes to loosen a season’s worth of grime. They dry in a big heap on some rags spread out on the floor. “We” is usually two or three volunteers who work with us on Plimoth’s annual Spring Clean Day. This happens in March, the Saturday two weeks before the museum is set to open to the public. Most of the work is outdoors, where all the sites are ship-shaped by a couple of hundred volunteers and staff working together. Whole families come together and rake the paths, or pick up winter debris (sticks, leaves) or turn garden beds. Some who are unable to work outdoors or need a break from that kind of work spend some time with us, washing the baskets, saddle-soaping the belts and leather pouches, sorting and labeling the contents of the wool closet, or doing regular mending. It is a busy, tiring and fun day, and it is wonderful to see how much can get accomplished and how beautiful the sites look at the end of the day. If you’re in the area or will be in March, you and your family can come play in the dirt, too. Check the website for the date and/or email Denise Nichols, Plimoth’s volunteer and intern coordinator. She keeps a head count (so we have enough lunch) and coordinates teams and team leaders and work orders. She won’t get going with this till next February, though, so don’t worry, there’s plenty of time.

When last we left Rebecca, she had on her smock, stays, bumroll, shoes, stockings, garters, one petticoat and had had her hair done.

Next is another petticoat. They go on easiest over the head. We put the fastenings in front; I know some others put the closure on the side. I can think of one painting (at least), dated 1569, that shows a woman undoing her stays, looks like she’s either going to nurse a baby or just has. Her petticoat opens in front, along with her stays.

Once you put it on, you have to give it a little flap to make sure it isn’t bunched up in back. In early 17th-century England, little girls (and maybe big girls, too, who knows?) played a game called “making cheeses.” Basically, you twirl around really fast so your petticoat flares out, then quickly drop to the ground. The girl whose petticoat makes the biggest circle on the ground wins. This may sound simple, and maybe you’re thinking that kids today wouldn’t be amused by something so basic, but believe it or not it was one of the favorite pastimes of the little girl volunteers this summer. And some of the big girl staff, too.