Of huge presidential heads and five-star restaurants

My husband and I celebrated our 24th wedding anniversary Monday. That sounds like such a long time when I say 24 years, but it doesn't seem that long when I think back to our wedding. I do think Rob is getting older -- his hair is getting gray.
We took a trip to Williamsburg, Va., where we spent part of our honeymoon, to get away for a few days. I hobbled around in my Darth Vader boot, leaning on my walking stick. I had to keep off the cobblestones and gravel paths, but overall, the broken ankle only slowed me down a little.
Our hotel was right next to a place called Presidents' Park -- a clearing of about 2 acres with 15-foot-tall busts of all the presidents scattered about, seemingly at ramdom. You could see it over the fence from the motel parking lot, and I have to say it was pretty creepy all lit up after dark. If some of the busts had been knocked over it would have reminded me of Easter Island. I thought about going in to see if it was any better from close up, but admission was $13.50 -- the same amount it cost for a combination ticket to see Historic Jamestown and the Yorktown Battlefield. I just couldn't justify the expense, so I took some photos from over the fence.
We ate dinner at the Williamsburg Inn, a five-star restaurant. You don't get to do that very often on a journalist's salary, but you only celebrate your 24th anniversary once, maybe twice, in a lifetime.
You see different styles of parenting at a place like Williamsburg. There are the parents who want children to just enjoy the place and experience the way people lived 300 years ago.
Then there are the quizzers.
"And who was the governor? C'mon, you know..."
"What was that gadget called? We'll get a drink when you rememer."
"What was the date of the surrender at Yorktown?"
I was never the quizzing type. It's just fun to experience the place with kids, to explore and imagine what it might have been like to choose sides in the Revolution and how we might have cooked and gardened and made a living.
The quizzers' kids always look miserable to me, and frankly, I think the experiencers' kids have more fun and learn just as much.