Port Moody is sunny after a month of non-stop rain. This is bringing people in to the Museum.
This morning, for example, we had a father come in with two children. The father looked at the blue washing machine in the Freight Shed and said that he used to get his fingers caught in the wringer.
The son asked us if the telegraph was difficult to use. We told him that, like anything else, it takes practice to master the skill.
“Like Lego!” he said.
Then his little sister asked, “Do trains make honey?”
She pointed out to some of the pipes from the Ioco Refinery that we have on dislay: the tar on them glistened with a honey-sort-of-look.