It was conducted oddly enough in Plymouth

Memorial Day may not be the typical day for visiting Plymouth, MA, so naturally that is when I had to go.

Why do things typically?

I did think it was topical. Memorial Day is for remembering those who have gone before, and I spent all day thinking about my long departed forefather John Howland. He probably looked something like this:

You know, he was a big fan of the color orange.

Are you familiar with John Howland? He is best known for falling off of this:

and believe you me, I was loud and proud of being one of his descendants. I even discussed it with the people working on the ship. I bet they never hear about that story.

Of course there are certain other requisites when you're visiting Plymouth.

1. Try to pet a chicken.

Here chick, chick, chicky . . .
Andrea gave it her best shot.

2. Practice your cannon shot.

Clearly the A girls are either beyond practice or not as dedicated as Carly.

3. Proposition a Pligrim.

Well, hello there, Pilgrim.

4. Look at a rock. No not any rock. This rock.

If you look very close you'll see the date 1620 etched onto the stone.

You can tell it's important because it has its own house.

We'd heard from several sources that the Rock itself was really rather small, but our diminished expectations were blown . . . out of the water.

Maybe for my next venture into family history I'll participate in the annual re-enactment of the skirmish at Lexington. And by participate, I mean I'll stand on the sidelines with a cup of tea and pooh-pooh the colonists for their gall, true to my Loyalist blood.

Anyone want to join me?

PS more points are available for those who correctly identify the subject line.