Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Winterthur Museum - Bus Trip from Saint Hilary of Poitiers - Poem: The Reflecting Pool

Bob Bergey was our Hagey Coach driver. Here he is when he drove me and Scott to the Grand Canyon of PA.

The bus left Solly and Verree in the Northeast before 8:30 a.m.

The trip to Winterthur, which I'll abbreviate WT was so popular Michele Langanella had to run two buses.

Main attraction was the Costumes of Downton Abby. The wife of WT's director came up with the idea. It is not a traveling show.

"Founded by Henry Francis du Pont, Winterthur (pronounced “winter-tour”) is the premier museum of American decorative arts, reflecting both early America and the du Pont family’s life here. Its 60-acre naturalistic garden is among the country’s best." - Winterthur website


 Shuttle buses ferried us from The Museum, which was the former house of du Pont and his family, to the Cottage, which housed the huge cafeteria and the gift shop.

Ready to drive through the 60-acres of trees and greenery? Later on, we had the opportunity to walk through parts of it. Tonite, when I drove Scott to the train station, he noticed a black blotch an inch above my wrist.

A tick!

 Huge Japanese maple.
The grounds are divided into different sections. This is a collection of all sorts of pine trees. Don't they smell fresh and pure?

 Some sort of sequoia.
 After touring the garden, we went into the former du Pont home, which they turned into a museum and the du Ponts moved into the Cottage.
 Did George Washington sleep here? Abe Lincoln? Ruth Deming? No, Ruth slept on the bus.
 Loom which spun the nearby tapestry/rug.
I'm always afeared that my camera batteries will die, so each pic I took, I thought, This may be the last. Then why, Ruthie, don't you bring extra batteries? Gee, thanks for the good suggestion. (I never do it, dough)

Gotta photograf this gorgeous quilt, I said to myself.

 Double-click to enlarge.
How could I, a spectacle-wearer since the young age of 8, not be attracted to these early pair of specs.

 I find these objects so lovely that after I blog, I'm gonna look em over and stare at em.

 Examples of different trees and how the wood is used to build different things.
 Don't mind if I do.
Hey, this must be the Downton Abbey exhibit.

 This lovely coat on the left was fashioned out of a tablecloth. In London, there's a huge warehouse that holds costumes, which are appropriated into new costumes.

The costumes are lent by Cosprop, the world’s leading costumier to film, television, and theater. Winterthur’s most popular exhibition, Fashion in Film, which attracted more than 42,000 people over its three-month run, also featured costumes by Cosprop.

ONE THOUSAND PEOPLE PER DAY view the Downtown Abbey digs.

Must view Cosprop's revolving website. Don't get dizzy!

Here's our knowledgeable guide but she shoulda used a megaphone.
Sibyl's bridal dress and train. The train was never shown in the movie. Close-up below.
From the Winterthur website.

 Scenes from the program play behind the costumes worn by Lady Mary and Matthew, who is shown getting down on one knee and proposing.
 Winterthur is also home to the Campbell Soup Tureen collection. Feast your eyes....
 More later. Meanwhile, I wanna go outside and see The Reflecting Pool.

 Almost there, almost there.

 Is that a seahorse on the right?
The cherub is a fountain.

 The carp come up to you wanting you to feed them.
 Gravel path.

The next ones are REpeats. I don't have the energy to delete them. I am exhausted! As you can imagine, lots of walking today.
Plymouth Rock?

 Step right up, says the white flower to the Bumblebee. Wait'll I show this to Beatriz!
 Back to the Soup Tureens.
 I must tell you I had the MOST DELICIOUS SOUP for lunch. Cream of mushroom. It was all pureed. Winterthur is located on Kennett Pike, in Wilmington, Delaware.

Kennett Square is known as ... Wiki, take it away....

It is known as the Mushroom Capital of the World[1] because mushroom farming in the region produces over a million pounds of mushrooms a week.

Russian soup tureen. You mean, there's borscht inside?

Our guide said that all of du Pont's shtuff is from other homes but moved here. This dinnerware is from a private home in Vermont, later installed in a VT museum, later given gratis to du Pont.

 The glazed black service was gorgeous!
 We visited only a fraction of the 175 rooms in the du Pont mansion. There were many lovely desks.

 Copy of the Inquirer sat on the b'fast table.
Everyone swooned over this parlor with wallpaper from China.

Here's Michele, our intrepid leader. The roast beef, she said, was very tender. Bob Bergey gave her a compliment when we were heading back, saying she was the hardest working travel booker he'd ever worked with.

Oh, dear!

I have lots more photos but I can't figger out how to get them on here.

We'll take a recess and perhaps I can load them the morrow.

 On the bus I sat next to a lovely woman named Sister Kathy Miller who works at Saint Joseph's Manor, an assisted living home, next to Holy Redeemer Hospital. She was 35 when she entered the noviatiate. It took about 9 years of study to become a full fledged nun.


A gaggle of riders took the bus down
to Delaware
Their license plates are different than ours
A muddy blue with letters and numbers
in unexpected places
I looked out the window and
enjoyed the graffiti and peeking
at the lives of motorists and
stuffed animals on their back windows

We toured the du Pont’s house.
One hundred seventy-five rooms
once bouncing with life and heirs
and heiresses, fit for a Henry James

I took my leave and walked around
the house. “The Reflecting Pool” is
what I sought. I passed moss-covered
stairs, two empty wrought-iron chairs
begging me to rest my tired legs
but I was a girl on a mission

From above I saw it.
Larger than I thought.
With quickening heart
I was anxious to get there
when a pony-tailed man
barred my way. Oblivious
he stood with his fancy camera
shooting this way and that,
finally, as I sought to pass him
he got down on one knee to
take more shots.

Excuse me, he said, as if
wakened from a dream. I
said nothing, to spite him,
then asked my sneakers
to sail to the pond. Sure, they
replied, and I sank down on a
heavy wooden bench.

Ponds! Do you know them?
Their gifts of reflection – of
the trees, the sky, the
statuary – are marvels of
nature. The Reflecting Pool
held open-mouthed carp
and petals from the magnolia.

As I stared, I fell asleep. I
dreamed I was in my bedroom
falling asleep and a portion of
my ceiling was crashing down on
me. Startled, I awoke and
thought Where in God’s name
am I? Morpheus sealed my
eyes once more.
A voice in the dream said
Time to open your eyes
and see what the new day

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