The ox wanted to sleep in. Ordinarily, this would not be a concern in my life, but on this morning, the task of rousing the animal had fallen to me and my sons, ten-year-old Edwin and six-year-old Anton. We had to yoke it to a cart to haul some fallen trees for the woodpile, and everyone was waiting for us.

"How do you wake up an ox?" asked Edwin, with suitable astonishment. I had no idea. He tried jostling its rump with his foot. Nothing. "Hey, ox, I've been up since sunrise; now it's your turn!" he yelled. The animal blinked but didn't stir. Then a farmhand named Wallace offered a solution. "Just jump flat on his back," he said. "That'll get him up." In an instant, Edwin dove onto the beast's back, roused it from its slumber, and safely slid to the ground as the massive yet surprisingly docile ox slowly rose to its feet. "Mission accomplished," Edwin said, glancing at Anton and me. "Now there's something you don't get to do much in the 1990s."

If time and place seem out of joint, it's because they were. The three of us had driven from our decidedly turn-of-the- millennium life in New York City to Livermore, Maine, where we checked into the Norlands Living History Center for a "live-in" weekend.

For three days, we, and the 11 other history buffs who joined us, voluntarily surrendered our real names and our knowledge of the 20th century and agreed to act as if it were 1870, when this museum site was a working farm. Unlike your typical historical village, buzzing with costumed interpreters speaking in dialect, Norlands encourages visitors to completely immerse themselves in the time period, giving them a chance to rise at dawn to feed the cattle, press apples for cider, parse sentences in a one-room schoolhouse and rely upon kerosene lanterns and outhouses. To help ease the transition, guests are asked to prepare for their roles by reading two books on the 1870s recommended by Norlands.

Geared to time travelers ages eight and up, Norlands hosts 16 live-ins annually (you can also travel back in time to the 1770s, but that time period is particularly spartan and not much fun for kids). The live-in schedule--about 50 percent chores, 25 percent entertainment and 25 percent historical research--may be too rigorous for some families, but the center still lures 700 travelers annually to southern Maine for its sold-out programs. In fact, Norlands is so popular with families, next year the center is launching a series of two-day historical weekends especially geared to young travelers. All this, however, did nothing to persuade my wife, Lynn, to forgo electricity and indoor plumbing for the weekend. She bowed out, suddenly remembering a pressing commitment to clean out our closets.

Anton and Edwin, however, couldn't wait to get started. "Is it 1870 in the whole state?" asked Anton as we arrived in Livermore. "Or just this one place?" It was hard to be sure. The whole property--which encompasses a rambling Victorian mansion connected to a barn, a church and schoolhouse and corrals filled with horses, pigs and cows--had been restored so convincingly that the 20th century seemed to vanish.

Please keep in mind that phone numbers, addresses, and prices are subject to change. Updated August 2005.