Last weekend was my annual foray into the eighteenth-century holidays.
Doesn't it look inviting? The view from outside gave me shivers--with no electric lights or other modern intrusions, one could feel like one was spying on a party 200 years ago. Of course, I wondered if we might be creating family ghost stories, as the house was on a country thoroughfare...
The highlight, of course, was the people, and spending time in our favorite time period in a house that makes imagining it's 1780 easy. Fires roaring on the hearths, a bowl of punch, candles in the windows.
After dinner, we had dancing. A few rounds proved to us why dancing masters and schools were employed so heavily during the period. We spent fifteen minutes or so learning each dance, then dancing it was done in a matter of minutes. Just think, we thought, how much more dancing we would have done if we already knew all the dances! Even so, learning and dancing was quite a bit of fun.
After dancing we spent a few hours of conversation--some quiet, some uproarious. The punch bowl was refilled. The fires were stoked. Tidings of comfort and joy took on whole new layers of meaning.