Plimouth Plantation

For our Turkey Day celebration, the family and I went out to the beautiful town of Plimouth, to enjoy our Thanksgiving feast at the place where the Mayflower landed, and presumably, the location of one of the first Thanksgivings. When I bought the tickets for our dinner on June 1 (they do sell out that quickly), we really had only a vague idea of what the day would entail.
We began our journey at about 11, and after a stop at Starbucks and for a soda, we were off onto the 93...a highway turned parking lot that morning. Traffic is a drag, especially when you've got someone following you, but once we got to the junction to the 3, we were in good shape. (Cause of traffic: three almost-spent flares from a previous accident.)
Upon arriving at Plimouth Plantation, we were told that we could adventure throughout the grounds, and were expected back to our dining room by at 2:15 p.m. Our first stop was a cheesy little orientation movie, that really didn't teach us much, and then we were released onto the grounds. The 1627 Pilgrim Village was pretty trippy. The costumed workers would only speak in the King's English, and knew nothing of anything past 1627. Don't ask them about television, they don't know what it is. Ask about the Mayflower, or about what they're cooking ("the humbles of a hog," I was told). Ask how long it takes to make an apron: "It's done when it's done, I suppose." Homes with thatched roofs and clay walls, a church building with cannons atop it, and the vegetable gardens were highlights.

Family-style table manners were the way of things at the T-giving dinner, which really meant that we had to wait for the people at the other end of the table to practically clear the turkey platter before we even got to touch it. The menu included: (cold) split pea soup that we ate anyway; escalloped oysters (basically just breaded snot); mashed potatoes; butternut squash; (dry) turkey; stuffing; cranberries; some kind of beet that Brian spit out faster than any kind of cooked carrot; and creamed onions that Howie deemed too onion-y. Dessert was a choice of pumpkin pie (Alex's favorite); Indian pudding (which Brian compared to pumpkin Cream of Wheat that looked like cat food with a dollop of whipped cream atop it); and apple pie (my choice, and the far superior dessert on the table). We did, however, get to take home our own complimentary posy.
Costumed characters came by each table for a chat; we met a retired whaler, a Yankee soldier, a woman who writes poetry and prides herself on her independence, and a guy that I only remember for his great purple coat.

Dinner was over by 4, and we were pretty efficiently rushed out so they could prepare for the 5:30 seating. Of course, the way out was via the gift shop, and after a few purchases, we made our way out to the cars to head back to town.
...and a good Thanksgiving was had by all!!