To Hale and Back

Last Sunday found me at Hale Farm and Village in beautiful Bath, Ohio. It was a lovely day to be out and about. The leaves were just a bit past their peak, but that’s okay. There was enough color to make it worthwhile. And the blue skies and warmish temps helped, too. 

Hale is a working farm that hearkens back to the mid-19^th Century. Many of the buildings have been brought from other places and restored to their original condition. 

I hadn’t been to Hale Farm in a number of years. As I recall, the last time was with my parents. This time, I was flying solo. I didn’t quite have the place to myself, but there were only a handful of other visitors. Some kids, but not too many. And they were well-behaved, so that was cool.

I met Starsky and Hutch, a pair of oxen with the stage names of Star and Bright (which they don’t answer to). There were chickens and sheep. (I did the obligatory “baaaa” at them. They ignored me, as well they should.) 

I talked to the broom maker and had a long conversation with the woman who works the looms. She’s made carpets, blankets and towels for many of the buildings on the farm. She showed me how she changes out the card to make smaller or tighter weaves. Very time consuming, but beautiful craftsmanship. There was also a candle maker, a huge kiln for pottery and a place for dyeing (with an “e”). 

I spent some time watching a glass blower. She didn’t bother wearing authentic garb, and she didn’t seem to like the audience much. But her work was amazing. I’ve always thought glass blowers were magical. 

There was enough of a crowd at the blacksmith’s that I couldn’t see much. But I get the gist, I’ve seen blacksmiths before. Heat. Pound. Repeat. Still pretty amazing that everything he does comes out the correct shape. I’d hate to think how mine would turn out.

The schoolhouse was from 1816. The "teacher" there looked pretty bored, so I made a point of asking her a few questions. Like who came up with the dunce cap. It was named for Johannes Duns Scotus, a 13^th century friar and philosopher who was brilliant in his time. He liked to wear a conical hat, which symbolized wizardry and wizards, who were smart. He had thousands of followers at one time, known as Dunsmen or Dunces, but his teachings lost favor during the Renaissance, and the hat came to symbolize stupidity. Thus, the dunce cap became the dreaded accessory to schoolchildren in classrooms far and wide. 

Continuing on my way, I toured several houses on the property, most of them built elsewhere. My favorite building was the meeting house. I sat on one of the benches (pews? Or is that a Catholic thing?) and closed my eyes, trying to imagine the people who had been there and the topics under discussion. Did they keep it civil? Or was there shouting and shenanigans?

I lunched al fresco, me and my chicken salad. I bailed when a persistent yellow jacket invaded my space. One more walk around, and I reluctantly called it a day.

So much we take for granted in our modern world. It was nice to take a step back and slow down the pace for a day and restore the soul. 

But no, I would not want to go back to a time when 11 people lived in a cabin the size of our bathroom at work. And I am too attached to indoor plumbing to think the past was all romance.

Still, it was nice to be off the grid for just a little while.