Today we took a tour of Historic Cherry Hill, a house I have passed many times on my way in and out of Albany.
We were the only visitors today (and perhaps the first in many days?), so we had the tour guide to ourselves. The whole experience was a little intense, but that was rather in keeping with the mood of the house, which was claustrophic in spite of its size. The last family to own Cherry Hill regarded themselves as social elites, above the vulgarities of the modern world, and even into the mid-20th century they kept up a more-or-less 18th-century lifestyle. Then they all died out and the house became a museum.
It was hard to feel much sympathy for them as they sounded pretty snobbish and awful, yet we all came away feeling a little gloomy and sad.
So Mum and I cheered ourselves with another trip to Indian Ladder Farms followed by a quilt shop, and we found a new wool shop too - bonus!
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