The Titanic Artifacts Exhibit, Henry Ford Museum

We went to the Henry Ford Museum today to take in the Titanic Artifacts Exhibit. It's a traveling exhibit, I assume one of many, and Calvin has been looking forward to it for weeks. It was very well done, the artifacts nicely spaced out and visitors admitted in small groups every fifteen minutes so that we never felt crowded or rushed. The had artifacts recovered from the wreck as well as photographs, quotes, videos, and even life size models of parts of the ship. Photography was not allowed in the exhibit, so we just snapped a few shots outside.

And of course while we were there we stopped by the Driving America exhibit, the Allegheny Locomotive, and had lunch in Michigan's Cafe.

As a side note, some recommendations from Calvin for books about the Titanic: Tonight on the Titanic, Mary Pope Osborne, and the Magic Tree House non-fiction companion, and Finding the Titanic, by Robert D. Ballard.

Then we came home and enjoyed a warming sunshine (although not quite warm), and played with newspaper and glue. There may be a couple of mummies in our future, assuming our experiment works.

Looking back

Ollie just wouldn't pose

Saying goodbye

We have learned lately that there is little limit to the amount of change that a day can bring. Less than twenty-four hours and our lives have been changed forever.

I used exactly this title five years ago when we had to say goodbye to Diamond, and now we lost have another beloved member of our family in saying goodbye to Moose. He'd been getting old, but the loss was still sudden. He woke up yesterday acting a little under the weather, and by midnight he seemed to be suffering from vertigo, but after an emergency vet visit first thing this morning, we learned that a cancer, which we weren't aware of, had caused sudden catastrophic damage. And again, as with Diamond, we found ourselves having to make the decision to let him go.

We had twelve wonderful years with little Moose, and not one of them would we trade for relief from the sorrow we feel now.

 

Perhaps

We opened the windows today, threw them wide to let in the fresh spring air. It was probably still a little chilly, but we just couldn't wait. Perhaps, just perhaps, it is spring.

We read, and cleaned, and played all morning. Calvin played with tangrams, created another Pooh scrapbook, this one for Owl, and then started in on the crafts in his new Highlights magazine. They're doozies—it's the April Fool's Day issue.

We did some chores, because the spring just calls for sweeping and straightening and storing and rejuvenating, then we spent the better part of our afternoon outside soaking up the sun and the breeze. We biked to the mailbox to look at the rain swollen pond, then to park to make use of the slides. It was wet after last night's storm and we have to get out to buy Calvin new rain boots before we can go hiking in our fields, something that gets number one priority this week, so today we stuck to the neighborhood footpath. We call it the bird path because this time of year we can go there to watch all manner of bird species flit about, sing, dance, and fill the world with life. We saw robins, sparrows, and juncos today.

Back at home we made tea and spread out in the sunshine on the floor to read. Calvin immersed himself in Mesopotamia, exploring The British Museum web site, while I tried to speed read through an historical fiction novel I have to review before Thursday. I looked up and every single one of us (except for the elusive Oahu) was in the sunshine somehwere—Moose and Iris in the front door, Ollie, Calvin, and I on the playroom floor, and Cookie on the window seat. It was that kind of beautiful afternoon.

And to top it all off, just before bed we went outside to view Jupiter and Venus in a brilliant spring sky. The Mesopotamians and the Mayans, Calvin reminds me, would have known when to see this special sight, too.