A hundred and fifty years, ago, nobody would have thought twice about making one's own clothes or beer. But in our post-industrial world, it sort of seems like magic. I think there's something really empowering about gaining the skills to make things yourself.
Saturday was a dreary day, so we stayed home and made things. Robb brewed beer, and I worked on a knitting project. Brewing is a great enterprise for Robb, because it is very mentally challenging, and because there are lots of opportunities for lying down. Even so, he's totally worn-out and in a lot of discomfort, a day later.
Probably, because I am a self-described thing-maker, I really love going to living history museums. When Robb and I go together, Robb plays a little game called "How long is it going to take before the museum interpreter drops their fake-historic character and starts talking shop with Lisa." I think my all-time record was set with at Colonial Williamsburg, with the cobbler. About ten seconds after entering his workshop, I was happily chatting away with the cobbler, like we were long-lost friends.