Nobly Jumping into Christmas OR Gonna Be a Cold Time in the Olde Town Tonight!

Like many good-sized cities in the midwest, Noblesville, Indiana has a couple large shopping centers with restaurant chains, clothing chains, and, you guessed it, grocery chains.

And yes, I totally go there to buy things.

But I also drive right by them and head down the narrower, bumpier streets to Ye Olde Historic Downtown Noblesville.

With a town hall befitting the prefix"Ye Olde"

On this square and the streets around it there are no chain shops. Just a bunch of restaurants, shoppes, a coffee shop, a few bars, etcetera, etcetera.

The square is built in the old town style, with a town hall in the center and a street running around the edges.

Because no one rubs shoulders with the town hall!

Astute readers will notice the pictures are taken at night, which is a departure from my normal style of daytime photos.

It's because I'm getting the jump on enjoying Christmas and beating December to the punch.

The calm, peaceful kind of beating to the punch.

On this particular night the cold and weekday-ness had driven many people away from the streets of the town square, giving me a wonderful time to take photos, enjoy the serenity, and freeze my buttocks off.

Also marvel at the slightly creepy decorations.
...What is it about Christmas and slightly creepy decorations?

The square put on a good show, the old-school buildings peacefully basking in the glow.

Well, the judicial center loomed in the shadows...
...but judicial centers do that.

But the other buildings cooperated, and I spent some time enjoying the calm.

Even I think this looks to smooth to be real...
...and I was there.

Antique buildings with antique shoppes selling antiques.
...How meta.

And, of course, like all Historic Squares there was the kitsch.

Behold! I bring you tidings of great kitsch!

But even the kitsch was kept to a low tasteful key, and the light decorations followed suite.

I have a particular fondness for light arrangements, and I found these picturesquely impressive.

No captions here. Just enjoy the lights.

And, because it's an old town square at Christmas, there's the requisite Santa corner.

The "shed" is clearly an entrance to a top secret underground toy factory.

There was even an informative plaque! In this case, it informed me how incredibly busy Santa is this time of year.

Informative!
Also: "Make it quick, kid, Santa's due at a mall in ten minutes!"

But that's okay. Because if he wasn't there, you could always leave him a letter in his personal mailbox. As a kid this be pretty frikkin awesome to use.

Especially since with the volume of mail he gets this mailbox
must surely be some sort of top secret teleportation device.

One of the hardest adjustments I have every year is finding that moment when I fully enter into the spirit of the season. When I was a kid it started with my mother playing Christmas Carols. When I was older it started when I began performing Christmas songs, in college it started when I came home for Christmas break...

...But I'm all grown up now (so they tell me), and since I have no kids yet, Christmas pretty much starts whenever I get around to getting into the spirit of the thing.

And honestly? A quick visit to a quiet town square that night was enough. My heart was warmed despite my fingers being frozen, far more than several days of Christmas carols in chain stores could ever do.

(Though I will admit that chain stores have central heating...)

So thanks, Noblesville Historic Downtown, for reminding me of Christmas with the right blend of class and kitsch.

Pictured: Class.

And also for reminding me that in every setting, there is always a place to embrace the tackiness.

Pictured: Glowing hot pink and creepy mannequin.
I'm not saying it's tacky, but...
...Okay, maybe a little.

Bring it on, Christmas.

Muddy Bloody Buddy OR Don't Bleed Me, Jive Turkey!

In honor of Thanksgiving, our fascination today takes us to a different sort of place...

...For this week we adventure inside my blood!

No, not like that!

For those who don't know, I am almost half Mexican (like 7/16 or something). And, I'm going to be honest, I'm a bad Mexican.

No, not like that, either!

Actually, in ¡Three Amigos! I'm far, far more likely to be this sort of guy:

Marking the first time I have ever compared myself to Chevy Chase.

Why is that? Because I'm a Bad Mexican as in, "Not very good at being Mexican." I don't speak Spanish, don't really know how to cook any actual Mexican food (filling pre-made taco shells doesn't count), and to me Cinco de Mayo is a day other people get drunk.

But in my defense: Just because Mexican's the most popular blood kind doesn't mean there's no competition.

Here's where I get to tie things into Thanksgiving (topical!):

On my father's side, the line goes back some ways. Which is a ridiculous phrase when I think of it. Of COURSE both lines go back some ways.

But my father's kept better records.

Because after building something this awesome,
the last thing you're gonna do is write down who your father was.

And in these records there are many fascinating familial gems. Such as my great-grandmother (or something like that) claiming we go back directly to King Ethelred the Unready, Last Saxon King of England. Which would make me some sort of deposed, poorer, less dashing, more Mexican version of Prince Harry.

I thought of trying to make a photo for this...
...but everything was so offense I pre-emptively censored it.

But the more interesting (and more readily provable) connection for the family is to various early settlers of Virginia (FFVs, for those in the know).

A lot of that family has various mixes of German, Scottish, Irish, English, etc.

But it also has a large part of Native American.

In particular, the direct descent of my family from Pocahontas.

The one on the right.
...we did not descend from a drawing.

I don't say this to brag (well, not entirely, anyway), but rather to point something out that has always fascinated me about my lineage:

It's so thoroughly muddled I get lost halfway down a census form.

Man... Why do they always ask the tough questions?

I'm not even kidding. While applying for college we had to come up with some concise way to write my race in the tiny affirmative action box without resorting to "Mutt."

But I love my mixed race background. You know why? Because it's up to me. I've got several different cultures from which to take a grab bag of goodies, and they're fun cultures:

Irish, Scottish, English, French, German, Viking, Powhatan, Mexican Indian, Spanish, a couple other random tribes...

...And they all ended up here. In the United States of America.

Cue the music!

I have ancestors who came over in the 1600s, 1700s, and 1800s. And a healthy spattering who were here loooooong before that. (My grandmother actually came to the US in the 1900s, but I don't count that as "coming over" since she was Mexican and therefore already here...)

And I have a confession:

There has been a disturbing trend for a little while to equate the phrase "I'm proud to be American" with all sorts of political, religious, scholarly, and cooking views.

Not sure why being American
means I eat things like this three meals a day...

I don't like this trend. One bit.

Because as I look at Thanksgiving, and the traditional celebration of my people meeting, well, my people, I always think this:

I am proud to be American. And not just "A citizen of the United States" (Cool in it's own right!), but "one who is of the descent of people of the Americas."

Because sometimes, you can look at yourself and say, "Dammit, I'm fascinating enough as it is!"

...Oh, and the music I cued up there? That was totally "Born in the USA."

Old, Large Piles of Dirt OR Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut, Sometimes You Don't

First off, how many of you immediately have a 20 year old jingle stuck in your head because of that title?

If you raised your hand, then I salute you, fellow Children of the 80s. Go enjoy the appropriately-titled candy bar that's only coconut and chocolate.

For the rest of you: Iiiiiiittt's History Time!

And not the history time filled with, "In 1066 there was a battle that was very important to the British people, especially those IN the battle who suddenly found a bunch of arrows and swords headed their way..."

Nah, this is more of the history time with, "Here's an old thing. We're not sure WHY this old thing was made, but man, is it old, and man, was it ever made!"

Because today we look at the 2,000+ year old mounds of central Indiana.

Zounds! It's some Mounds!

I know it's a little hard to see from that angle, but that is a large mound a couple hundred feet in diameter and a few thousand years old.

But wait! There's more! (More mounds, that is.)

Here's the model of the mounds they've set up in the visitor center:

No, it's not a model for a golf course.
...Though now we have a new theory for their purpose!

By the way, that's a wall-sized model, showing the relationship of the main mound (called, creatively, the Great Mound) and the three mounds around it.

But what does it MEAN?!? Quick, to the informative plaque!

Informative!
...Well, sort of.

Basically, these mounds were built thousands of years ago by the tribes and people of these parts. There are several more scattered around the park...

Well, as much as one can "scatter" things like this.

...And they once covered huge chunks of Indiana. Why?

Well, archeologists have found that they aligned certain ways with astrologic things like changing sunsets, stars, etc. And in one mound they found a grave from hundreds of years later than when it was first built, and... um...

...They think they were "religious in nature."

Which I've come to recognize as the archeological equivalent of shrugging their shoulders noncommittally and going, "I dunno..."

So if better minds than mine (well, minds with more letters behind their name) can't solve it, then I won't try in a single blog post. So here's a bunch of pictures!

Pointy artifacts! Used for aggressively pointing out things!
(Like fish!)

The house of the farmers who got this land back before Indiana was a state.
...And awesomely decide to preserve the mounds.

That's the mound in the distance.

Inside the mound on the center "island."
Then there's a moat, then the mound.

The "moat" and mound.

Whatever they mean, they're certainly in a beautiful area. I was expecting a bunch of mounds and boring informative archeological plaques and displays...

...But found wonderful trails!

Rolling hills that probably
looked much better two weeks ago.

"I want a bridge and walkway!"
"Sir, it's only a small gully. People can-"
"Bridge and walkway!"

I'll end this post with the enjoyable little things I found at the visitor center itself.

There are turtles and snakes inside,
so it's not really a random turtle butt.

And lest we forget the charming "country-style" porch:

"Reckin' there's sum mounds out thar."
"Yerp."

And the neatest chess board I've ever seen.

Which occurs to me just now is probably mostly used for checkers.

Anyway, I had a fun time looking at old earthworks and pondering their purpose.

Because honestly, who the heck really knows what they were for?

I'm thinking: Skatepark.

Sheepishly Telling the Rest OR No Sheep, Sherlock!

DAY 2:

As promised, in Day 2, we explore the rest of the Duchess County Sheep & Wool Festival.

This day, we headed to the other part of the faire, affectionately known as "The Barns."

Early morning between a few of the barns.
Early CHILLY morning... Thankfully, we had wool.

The barns are a series of...well, barns, filled with even MORE vendors and wooly-type sellers.

And wooly-type people.

You'll only get this once this post, so I'll get it out of the way:

Man. There were TONS of people and vendors.

Another barn!

And another!

There were a several more barns filled with more wooly vendors. But these were much more natural type yarns, wools, and colors in general. The placement of which will make sense shortly.

One barn had a demonstration of dying with natural plants, and herbs.

Those of you following this blog (hi, Mom!) will remember my fondness for informative plaques. Sadly, since this was a temporary faire, so there were no permanent plaques...

...But the natural plant demonstration had an informative natural dye chart!

Informative!

And next to that, we learned even more why they're called the Barns.

We were also reminded why it's called the Duchess County Sheep & Wool Festival.

I'm thinkin' it's because of the sheep.

And not just sheep! If it can produce yarn, it was there:

Goats!

Fluffy sheep!

Shorn sheep!

Llamas! (On parade!)

This sheep!
(Bringing back the frosted tips!)

There was a 4H component of the show, so the crazy variety of sheep made a fair degree of sense.

Now here's what entertained me: So many phrases talk about sheep as docile, quiet creatures, easily following whatever they're told to.

Not. True.

Observe how the professionals handle the prize-winning sheep:

Yup. By holding the sheep's head in a death grip.

I sadly cannot adequately portray this next point without sound. But I will try.

See, our childhood books tell us sheep say, "baa." Or possibly, "Baaah." The use phrases like "softly bleating."

I saw many, many sheep. Some were silent. The ones that weren't did NOT "softly bleat." No, their noises reminded one that "bleat" is only one letter away from "beat."

It's more properly written as "BLLLLAWWWWAAGGH!!!"

Even the lambs! We watched a tiny boy of maybe 4 cautiously approach a tiny, tiny "adowrable wamb..."

...which promptly replied, "BLLIIIIIIIAAAGGGHH!!" and scared the heck out the boy. That poor kid isn't gonna have nightmares... He'll have "nightsheep."

...But moving on: Ever hear of Angora fur? This guy has!

SO FLUFFY!!

Yes, there were even Angora rabbits. And in case you're wondering, these guys are shorn like sheep, so no, they are not hurt for the fluffy, fluffy fur. It's cut off, then spun into yarn.

This is getting a little long, so I'll do a quick run by sum up:

Team competitive weaving!

Trebuchets!

...For pumpkin chuckin!

Sheep herding demonstrations!

And now, fair readers, we shall leave Rhinebeck.

We shall end on eating wool.

Wait, what? Allow me to demonstrate:

Roving. (Unspun wool)

This looks just like it...
...What could it be?

Why,  only the finest cuisine, of course!
(Eaten in the classiest of ways!)

I thought about keeping you guessing, but that amazing stuff was, in fact, 100% maple syrup cotton candy.

And it was amazing. Just like Rhinebeck.