It was a great morning for a history walk – sunny, warm but not too hot, plenty of shade on the route. Getting to the walk, however, involved a series of minor events with disproportionate levels of aggravation.
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| Interpreters talked about Mill Girl work and life. |
When I failed to address the tire issue Wednesday, it was decided to do it on Friday on the way to the office, but I left the house late that morning. After work, there was supper out and then I just wanted to get home. Today had to be the day.
The "Lowell Walks: Mill Girls & Boarding House Keepers" left from the Lowell National Historical Park Visitor Center at 10:00. My plan was coffee (of course), breakfast (a banana), visit the gas station in Dracut with slightly better gas prices and an easy to access air machine, and arrive in time for the walk. Ha!
Wardrobe challenges included a shirt change (three times) and debate over a purse alternative. The debit card and license were removed from the wallet. I went upstairs to pull four quarters from the coin jug for the air machine and put them in my pocket. The purse and wallet (but not the cross body bag) went to the car in case there was grocery shopping after the walk.
On the way to the gas station, while checking to confirm the presence of the debit card in the back pocket, it was discovered the pocket was empty. While doing so, I sort of blew through a stop sign. A car waiting at the cross street let me know of my error. Oops. At the gas station, it was confirmed the debit card was not in my possession. There wasn't enough cash on hand for the gas fill up, but the tires were filled.
While exiting the gas station to go home for the debit card, the low fuel alert illuminated the instrument panel. A few houses away from mine, a neighbor whipped out of his driveway and into my path. We couldn’t see each other due to the big white van in front of his house blocking the view, so why he was backing out so fast was a mystery to me. It felt like quick payback from the Universe for the stop sign.
Card and license were retrieved from the cross body bag on the kitchen table. Gas was acquired. At 10:00, I was still at the gas station in my neighborhood. Nine minutes later, I was parked downtown and walking to catch up to the tour at a sculpture of Mill Girls called “Homage to Women” by acclaimed sculpture Mico Kaufman. At the statue, the question was posed about a sculptural detail where one girl had her hand over another’s. Was she helping pull the other girl along, or holding her back? The Park Ranger said the answer might depend upon one’s generation.
At the Lowell Institute for Savings building, we learned that Mill Girls had savings accounts at the now defunct bank. Even after paying room and board, church pew fee, and sending money back home to their families to help support the family farm and often, education for their brother(s), they were still able to save some money for themselves.
In Lucy Larcom Park, two historic interpreters in 1800s style dresses talked about work in the mills (six days a week) and what life was like. At one of the Park sculptures we paused to hear about 14 hour work days and early labor organization by the Mill Girls.
At Boarding House Park, we learned about boarding house life while the Angkor Dance Troupe rehearsed for their Sunday night performance. In true feast/famine fashion, it’s at the same time as a belly dance showcase in Natick that I also want to attend. Stupid time/space crap. At least I saw a bit of the rehearsal.
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| Saturday with Kiki on the stairs. |
Back at home, Kiki was lounging on the stairs in peace and quiet. She is a sweet and very not silly cat and I was glad she doesn’t climb the
walls or tear up the house like some of the cats in the film. Not yet, anyway.
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