The Road to Bristol

The path I took here was unpredictable. If you’d asked me a year ago to guess where I’d be, Bristol, Rhode Island would not have made the top 5. Or the top 100.

I hope there will be more in the weeks to come about this year in the country’s tiniest state. The whole thing feels like a blip, an isolated pocket of time that was never meant to happen. But if this was a blip, it was a beautiful blip, and if it was never meant to happen, I’m still awfully glad it did.

But there I go, talking vagueness. Really, I have some interesting and highly digestible posts in the works that come directly out of this time I’ve spent among strangers in Rhode Island. But after such a long hiatus it felt odd to jump right into 18th century cheese-making, or the proper way to lace your corset, or the secret vocabulary of chickens.

So let me give a brief recap of the the past year – that is, how I unexpectedly and randomly came to be where I am now – and then we can get down to the fun stuff, like just how many strangers can you fit into an 18th century bed? It started with a boy who was working in New York. I liked him; we were dating. I had a year to kill while I applied for a Fulbright Fellowship and the world was my oyster; all options were open! So I decided to move back to New England and see if things could work between us. I’d dreamed of working at someplace like Plimoth Plantation and this seemed my time to try, before I flung myself abroad the following year (I hoped!) to Scotland. So around this time last year I sent my resume to every open-air and living history museum between Philadelphia and Boston (no really, I was working off a list), and I heard back from exactly one of them, a tiny farm in the tiniest state, Coggeshall Farm Museum in Bristol, RI. They weren’t hiring me, merely granting me an interview, but that was enough. I chucked all my eggs into that basket and my worldly possessions into the car and put a deposit on a rental house in Tiverton, RI.

I’ll tell you the ending: They DID hire me, and I’ve been working there since October. Other key facts about my life since then: A neighbor put me in the way of a troupe of Gilded Age living history actors in Newport, with whom I’ve had the joy of performing since December; The boy is long gone; I DID get the Fulbright, so I’m off to Scotland in September.

Many adventures and shenanigans to report this past year, and hopefully a few of them will make it into tidbits on this blog. Get ready for a history lesson, boys and girls.

(Oh, and just for reference, here’s an actual picture of the road to Bristol, RI. But more on that later 😉

Screen Shot 2014-07-14 at 8.59.41 PM

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7 thoughts on “The Road to Bristol

  1. Anita Weinraub says:

    Adorable! But RI is the second smallest state after Delaware!

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

  2. Anita Weinraub says:

    EXCEPT… I just checked and RI iS the smallest–sorry!

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

  3. Sharon says:

    ok…I’m happy, now…!

  4. Sharon says:

    It’s good to have a mom editor…!

  5. Last year I met a young mathematician who had recently obtained his PhD in Princeton and got a postdoctoral position at Bristol University. As I was told it was a big success for him.
    If someone told me then that in a year, after defending my dissertation in an obscure institute in Ukraine, I would follow him, I would have hardly believed it. But that’s how it happened, and now I’m starting my 3-years postdoc in Bristol this September :]

  6. It’s a small world 🙂

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