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Hamilton Civic Museums

17/3/2012

7 Comments

 
Hamilton has a multiple personality disorder.  I can go on and on about the little pockets of loveliness that can be found here and there.  You can walk among looming trees, on quaint streets lined with centuries old estates.  Take an afternoon to stroll the clique that has become James St. North and you'll soon wish there was an American Apparel to don yourself in hipster-esque clothing.  Climb a set of stairs to the second floor Pure on Locke Street and forget all your troubles behind.

But man, are there troubles about.  This is not a walkable city.  Too many parking lots and long stretches of road with abandoned buildings in disrepair. Cars drive too fast and worry about other cars, not pedestrians.  No inner city parks.  Watch out for fucking motorized scooters, they own the place.  Watch your step for phlegm on the sidewalk.  Listen to a family argue over whether the dad can go to the "rippers" so he can "sink his teeth into some ass" while their child swings at the playground.  It's pretty easy to feel disenchanted with the place that you so fondly called home.

Luckily, one sunny afternoon, we escaped to one of the aforementioned little pockets, a place near and dear to me, a mansion called Whitehern.  My Mom had planned a March Break itinerary for the girls, which included a Wizard of Oz themed afternoon there.  We toured the house looking for ruby slippers, ran through the gardens while following the yellow brick road, and made scarecrows in the old stable house. 
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The creepiest Tin Man ever.
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A nice view from inside the gardens.
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Gold tinted windows.
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A canning table!
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Today we're off to the market and library, in search of cheese and a restored opinion of the potential for this city to be great.  God help me if I get run over by a scooter. 
7 Comments
Aaron
16/3/2012 11:36:15 pm

Aww, looks like you guys are having a great time! I miss the pretty parts of Hamilton. (That includes those pretty parts that are coming back to Germany in 2 weeks.)

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Tara
17/3/2012 05:19:21 am

Your timing could not have been better. Five women looking over my shoulder gave a resounding "AWWWW!" Thanks baby!

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Katie
17/3/2012 11:22:07 am

It's a good thing Aaron was so sweet, it stopped me from continuing your Hamilton rant. I'm sure you were able to find some delicious cheese but that potential you were looking for disappeared in 1886.

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Tara
17/3/2012 08:43:16 pm

The cheese was awful. I asked for smoked gruyere and got smoked cheese whiz instead, yuck.

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Katie
17/3/2012 09:14:40 pm

Did you at least try and make some fancy burnt toast out of it?

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Tara
17/3/2012 09:32:34 pm

hahaha, no. I sent it away before I thought to do that. Or before you suggested it.

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Ronna
28/3/2012 11:25:04 am

I was looking through your website (loving your pics and writing style) and then I saw the canning table! I have one that I bought for $99 at an antique store. I even fought off another woman who spied it at the same time as me. White tin top with white painted legs with a red stripe on the bottom of the legs. My grandma had one just like it in her kitchen; it's one of my favourite possessions.

I think you'd like it. I'll send a pic as soon as I clear all the junk from the top of it. ;-)

PS-smoked cheese whiz...ew.

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    There is no how-to for making jams and jellies on this site.  Maybe there will be one day.  For now, The Canning Table is a big wooden metaphor for preserving memories while my family and I explore expat life.

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