Sweet Suzie Bear travels back in time

note: It was suggested that in today’s blog post (day no. 25 in the ultimate blog challenge), I write about something in the news. What’s in the news are the upcoming elections. Unfortunately, I believe that, if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. And I have nothing nice to say about these elections. I am completely tired of listening to a pack of politicians bash each other nonstop. I am sick of the name calling and I am sick of the accusations. So this is a request on my part to all candidates who feel that they can win an election by throwing mud at their opponents: Please stop. That’s it. Just… please stop. 
Stop calling your opponents “criminals,” “racists,” and other assorted offensive titles. Start telling the voters about your qualifications for the office. Please remember: you are a job seeker, and the voters are your employers. If I were to apply for a job, and if I spent my entire job interview bashing another candidate for the job, would I get the job? Would I deserve the job? Heck, I wouldn’t hire myself.
Anyway, I am giving this space to Sweet Suzie Bear today… 
And so, another guest blog by Sweet Suzie Bear

It was a sunny, yet chilly, autumn day. My human was going to River Lea to take pictures of the dedication of an enormous round stone that had been donated to the Grand Island Historical Society. My human sometimes says the Hysterical Society because her mother says hysterical society. 
So anyway, there I was, at River Lea. The stone was in the parking lot. It had a metal base and it was mounted on wood. My human put some potted plants and some pumpkins around it, and she took a picture.

There is the famous stone. My human spent a lot of time writing about this stone and, finally, she gets to see it.
Before I went to River Lea, I was looking for some refreshment, but my human said that I wasn’t allowed to have any wine, even out of this pretty bottle. She said that she couldn’t have wine because it puts her to sleep and, if she doesn’t get wine, then I don’t get wine. That was when I noticed that there were all sorts of electrical cords in the bottle. It turned out to be a lamp, instead of a tasty treat. 

Suddenly, history came alive. Here I am at this old church. The only problem is that it is small and I am huge. Even though I’d really like to go and sing a song or two with the choir inside, I just can’t get past that door. I used to be a little bear, and now, I am a giant monster! It could be that I bit the wrong side of the cookie. There were cookies sitting near that lovely wine bottle, the one that turned out to be a lamp. After not getting that lovely beverage, I decided to eat a cookie. I was told that the wine would have strange effects on me, when, actually, it was the cookie that had the strange effects.

Still surrounded by things that can be poured.  Pretty things that can be poured. I wonder what was poured when those pretty things were used for pouring. 

I found this seat. It was interesting to look at but not very comfortable to sit on. So I left.

Here I am in the past and I am ready for my tea party. My human was just about ready to  go outside to look at the stone. She said that the party was about to begin and that delicious cake would be served.
I could always go for a party with cake because you know how much we bears like our sweets. But first, how about washing nineteenth century style? There was no indoor plumbing at the time so people had to use all sorts of things so that they could have water accessible in the house. They kept these pretty containers, with an attractive pitcher, inside so they could wash hands, face, etc. When they wanted to take a bath, they had to lug enormous amounts of water into the house. As a result, the bathtub was used in the kitchen, not the bathroom. There were a few reasons for that. One is that the kitchen was the warmest room in the house, since there was also no heating in other rooms, other than fireplaces. In the kitchen, there were stoves and ovens and, so the kitchen was warmer. Also, the kitchen was on the ground floor and that eliminated the problem of having to carry massive amounts of water upstairs. Because it was difficult to bring so much water into the house for bathing, everyone bathed in the same bath water, starting with the oldest. The youngest was last. By the end, the water was pretty scummy. Into that, the baby was placed. The bath water was disgusting. Hence, the cliche, “Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water.”
People back then didn’t bathe very often because it was so difficult getting all of that water into the house. All I can say is that they must have been awfully ripe by the time that it was bath day again. Apparently, they used all sorts of perfumes and colognes to cover up the odor. The bathroom at River Lea (which is an exhibit of a nineteenth century bathroom, as well as a working bathroom) is full of perfumes and colognes of the variety that nineteenth century people would have used.

And, speaking about Baby, here she is in her crib.

I sit on Mother’s lap but she is a mannequin who represents the nineteenth century, so she says nothing and even seems to ignore me.

This house is Tea Party Heaven. Even in the bedroom, everything is set up for tea. As a bear, I am hoping that I find loads of honey for my tea…

Another tea party set up in the bedroom! Oh! I am setting up in the dining room. All of these beautiful sandwiches and wonderful Skies? I think that I am getting a bit restless… not too mention young… But youth eludes me so I have to be happy with tea..
And it is all good, like water rushing toward

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