After a relaxing night of lounging and snoozing at the just-swanky-enough Fairfield Inn, the boys and I awoke refreshed and ready for our continuing Cumberland Quest. But for our critical first order of business, we journeyed all the way down to the lobby...to pillage and plunder the Breakfast Bar. If that sounds a mite overly-exaggerated to describe the typical, low-key first meal of the day, then you've clearly never witnessed Derek the Devourer, decimating a free all-you-can-eat spread. Granted, this was the most varied and generous complimentary breakfast we've personally ever encountered, but here's what my 11-year old tucked away: one bagel with butter, one Belgian waffle, eggs, sausage, bacon, an apple, juice, and chocolate milk. (Riley chowed down slightly less than that...I was just thrilled they had fresh, hot coffee with real cream!) Thus fortified for our day, we stepped outside to stretch our legs and enjoy the coolish morning air. When arriving the night before, we had been pleased and surprised to notice that the hotel overlooked both the C&O Canal (with its parallel dirt-packed Towpath) and also the Allegheny Trail (a smooth, lightly-graveled former railway line, converted for walker/biker use); in other words, we had a number of delightful options for a morning stroll, immediately outside our door! With full stomachs, we chose to do a gentle walk along the Allegheny, waving to others who passed us on sneakers or wheels as we ambled along.
Then it was "All Aboard" to ride the rails, on an old-fashioned train pulled by Steam Engine #734. Even though I was recording the moment with my digital camera, watching the thick black smoke billowing up into the sky, and the uniformed Conductor taking our tickets, I felt like I should be carrying a parasol and wearing a hoop skirt for this excursion. (And what did my ultra-modern little voyagers comment on? They were outraged by the environmentally-harmful pollution produced by the coal-burning engine. Okay, so all of my Save-the-Earth preaching has sunk in...I promised them we'd pledge a Carbon Offset Donation when we got home to make up for it. Sigh.) Our journey spanned 16 uphill miles (encompassing a 1,300 foot elevation change) of mountainous country between Cumberland and Frostburg, on winding track, over elevated bridges, and through one tunnel. At times you could practically reach out and touch the rocky cliffs--which presumably had been blasted away when laying the track--lining the route. We passed a few small towns along the way, chugged over some highway crossings, and cruised very near several neighborhoods that lay close to the line. You could walk around your compartment or even between cars whenever the mood took you, so we left our seats several times to stand in one of the open areas and look out the sides or back of the train for a while. It was altogether super-cool (as long as you remembered to keep your head in, to avoid the blowing cinders)!
When we steamed into Frostburg, we had a one-and-a-half hour "layover" to explore the small-town environs and find a midday meal. A stranger--seemingly a Local--spotted us peering about aimlessly and recommended his favorite hometown eatery, the Princess Restaurant. I can tell you, we would have walked right past it on our own, as it boasts nothing to admire from the outside. But when you enter, you find yourself stepping backwards in time into a diner-like joint: wooden booths equipped with mini-jukeboxes, soda-fountain-counter running the length of the room, open grill in plain sight where you can watch the cook slinging burgers...oh, and cheap, tasty, hot food as well...awesome! After the lunch interlude, it was downhill (I mean that in the literal, topographical sense, not in terms of our appreciation) back to Cumberland for the end of our odyssey. All that remained was for us to reclaim our car and return home to tell Husband the stories. We had such a good time, particularly with the assortment of hiking alternatives available to us, only some of which we were able to take advantage of on this trip, that we're already planning to go back to Cumberland as a family in the Fall to soak up crisper temperatures and colorful foliage...and of course fine dining! (Hmm, do you think the Western Maryland Tourist Board would hire me on as a PR Specialist? I'll write glowing reports if they put us up at the Fairfield Inn and feed my family!)
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Cumberland Part 1: on foot and by car
Well, Summer 2011 may be winding down, but Team WestEnders is not quite ready to throw in the towel (beach or otherwise) just yet. The boys and I had one more adventure that we wanted to pursue before facing the return of school and work. It was an excursion I discovered last year, but we never got around to doing: taking a train ride on the Western Maryland Scenic Railroad. Depending on how you look at it, the outing would either count as an Extended Field Trip or a Mini Vacation, since it would necessarily involve an overnight stay in historic Cumberland, Maryland. The basic logistics included a two-hour drive westward, and a 3-1/2 hour train trip--both winding through beautiful mountainous countryside. With this in mind, I began filling in other details, to try to create a full, fun 2-day agenda. First I added a hike to the plan, since every time we drive on I-70 West, we've noted the Appalacian Trail crossing overhead. Then I had to investigate where we would sleep for the night. I wage a constant internal battle between the voice that admonishes "Be Frugal, Save Money!" and the one that reminds me how spoiled we ALL have become by staying at Marriotts...I think I've completely ruined the boys for "bargain motels" after exposing them to cushy amenities like indoor pools and Sleep Number beds (and how ridiculous is it that my pre-teen children actually know the word "amenities"?) Also, knowing that Cumberland is a very small town, I figured our choices would be somewhat limited. And when I searched online for less-expensive options, one horrifying word kept appearing in the Travelers' Reviews: BEDBUGS. Aaahhhh! Get me to the Fairfield Inn (owned by Marriott)! I broke the news to Husband that we'd had to book the $99 hotel, but quickly added, "breakfast is included!" He fully agreed that you cannot possibly place a monetary value on the amount of sheer joy Derek experiences from the words: "Free. Hot. Breakfast." Done!
So, with all preparations in place, we hit the highway and headed for the hills. One easy hour later, we arrived at the Appalacian Trail crossing, gobbled a quick Kashi bar (I swear we're like a commercial for those things--Really, eat one and go for a hike! Take our word for it!) picked a direction, and started walking. One possible path led to a scenic overlook called Annapolis Rocks. When researching the area's trails online a few days before the trip, we thought this one looked promising. The only concern was that it covered 2.2 miles each way, and Husband and I weren't sure the boys could handle such a long hike just yet. Derek, Riley and I made the game-day decision to give it our best try, though, and determinedly plowed off into the forest. In the beginning it looked a bit iffy, as we slogged steeply uphill for quite some time. But it was a wide, fairly smooth, totally shady trek, so we stuck with it. Just when both boys were starting to complain of fatigue and lobbying to turn back, we passed another family group returning in the opposite direction. They seemed friendly, so I inquired: "Had they been to Annapolis Rocks?" (They had.) "Was it much further?" (Only about 5 minutes!) Yes! (Memo to me: Team WestEnders needs a watch with a GPS feature, so on future woodsy outings, we'll KNOW how far we've gone--without accosting fellow Outdoorsmen! Related note: soooo glad we didn't turn back!) The rocky outcropping, where you could gaze out over the Cumberland Valley, was breathtaking (and well worth the effort). And of course the boys gained no small sense of pride and accomplishment from completing a 4.4 mile hike. Appalacian Trail in Maryland: check!
Next we continued on to Cumberland, to relax, explore, and (of course) eat dinner. I don't know how this happens (is there a Patron Saint of Tourists? Because I owe him or her an offering!) but it turned out the Fairfield Inn sits about a block from the train station, near the heart of the downtown district. Score! We wandered up and down the rolling hills of the quaint little town, admiring many old-timey brick edifices and a surprising number of churches for such a tiny burg--all of which impressed us with their soaring, majestic spires. Overall we got the impression of having landed somewhere back in the 1800s or so. Also noteworthy and very enjoyable were the numerous fountains dotting the city blocks, and tiny areas of greenery--called "parklets"--tucked into corners between buildings. What we did not find in all of our otherwise pleasant strolling: a vegetarian-friendly eatery. However, the helpful staff at our good old hotel came through, pointing us toward the Queen City Creamery (right away, anyplace that promises ice-cream in the title is a clear winner). We never would have stumbled onto it by ourselves, but what a find! Delicious sandwiches, served in an old-fashioned ice-cream-parlor-style atmosphere...and a free mini-cone with each order. Happy campers!
Now we've got SportsCenter and a good night of sleep ahead of us...so we're thoroughly refreshed at an early hour...for the Breakfast Buffet! (Oh, and of course the Railroad!)
So, with all preparations in place, we hit the highway and headed for the hills. One easy hour later, we arrived at the Appalacian Trail crossing, gobbled a quick Kashi bar (I swear we're like a commercial for those things--Really, eat one and go for a hike! Take our word for it!) picked a direction, and started walking. One possible path led to a scenic overlook called Annapolis Rocks. When researching the area's trails online a few days before the trip, we thought this one looked promising. The only concern was that it covered 2.2 miles each way, and Husband and I weren't sure the boys could handle such a long hike just yet. Derek, Riley and I made the game-day decision to give it our best try, though, and determinedly plowed off into the forest. In the beginning it looked a bit iffy, as we slogged steeply uphill for quite some time. But it was a wide, fairly smooth, totally shady trek, so we stuck with it. Just when both boys were starting to complain of fatigue and lobbying to turn back, we passed another family group returning in the opposite direction. They seemed friendly, so I inquired: "Had they been to Annapolis Rocks?" (They had.) "Was it much further?" (Only about 5 minutes!) Yes! (Memo to me: Team WestEnders needs a watch with a GPS feature, so on future woodsy outings, we'll KNOW how far we've gone--without accosting fellow Outdoorsmen! Related note: soooo glad we didn't turn back!) The rocky outcropping, where you could gaze out over the Cumberland Valley, was breathtaking (and well worth the effort). And of course the boys gained no small sense of pride and accomplishment from completing a 4.4 mile hike. Appalacian Trail in Maryland: check!
Next we continued on to Cumberland, to relax, explore, and (of course) eat dinner. I don't know how this happens (is there a Patron Saint of Tourists? Because I owe him or her an offering!) but it turned out the Fairfield Inn sits about a block from the train station, near the heart of the downtown district. Score! We wandered up and down the rolling hills of the quaint little town, admiring many old-timey brick edifices and a surprising number of churches for such a tiny burg--all of which impressed us with their soaring, majestic spires. Overall we got the impression of having landed somewhere back in the 1800s or so. Also noteworthy and very enjoyable were the numerous fountains dotting the city blocks, and tiny areas of greenery--called "parklets"--tucked into corners between buildings. What we did not find in all of our otherwise pleasant strolling: a vegetarian-friendly eatery. However, the helpful staff at our good old hotel came through, pointing us toward the Queen City Creamery (right away, anyplace that promises ice-cream in the title is a clear winner). We never would have stumbled onto it by ourselves, but what a find! Delicious sandwiches, served in an old-fashioned ice-cream-parlor-style atmosphere...and a free mini-cone with each order. Happy campers!
Now we've got SportsCenter and a good night of sleep ahead of us...so we're thoroughly refreshed at an early hour...for the Breakfast Buffet! (Oh, and of course the Railroad!)
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
A Tale of Three (Sets of) Sauconys...
Today's mission would normally strike abject terror into the hearts of even the most red-blooded American males...Shoe Shopping (pause for the sons to sprint from the room, howling in agony at the anticipated torture). EXCEPT: they were the ones who needed new sneakers. (That's right, again. Sigh.) So we headed to the Stride Rite outlet, as we seem to do every August, to score some quality shoes (the criteria being "won't fall apart before they're outgrown") that hopefully don't cost Mom the proverbial arm and leg. Bonus: this store carries the Saucony brand of running shoes, which are not only cushy and comfortable (I've bought countless pairs since one of my Graduate School professors recommended them to me), but have proven durable enough to withstand even Derek Abuse (a phenomenon that has shredded lesser sneakers in the past). In short order, Derek, Riley and I had all chosen our own new pairs of sleek, light, athletic shoes...different colors, but all Saucony. The boys even did the standard (for our family, at least) "Race Around the Premises Dodging Toddlers and Benches to Check the Fit Test"...I'm sure the employees were thrilled to see us satisfied...and leaving. But the ultimate reward showed up at the cash register, when the total came to a whopping: $72 bucks. Whoo hoo! Shoe Coup! (Sorry, I'm still a little giddy from the excitement, can you blame me?)
How does one top a super-successful shopping spree like this one? By trying out the new apparel, of course! We all laced up our sneaks and headed for the High School track, to perform a Test Workout. My standard plan of attack--honed from many years of running experience...in conjunction with a strong desire to maintain functional knees for several more decades, if possible--is to warm up by walking a lap, then run 8 or 9 more, and finally cool down and stretch. Derek, at age 11, understands the concept, but tends to abbreviate the "Warmup Phase" and get right down to running much more quickly. However, this was the very first time Riley had joined us...and he utterly ignored all cautionary advice and shot off at a dead sprint as soon as his feet hit the track. Of course, half a lap later when I caught up to him, he was already panting. After a few more minutes he was practically in tears, claiming that he "sucked at running" and felt too exhausted to continue. Meanwhile Derek cruised around the circle, off in his own little Running Rhythm, which I noticed judiciously included periods of walking when he felt fatigued. So Riley was treated to a little impromptu lecture (complete with convenient demonstration--just look at your brother!) about figuring out your own speed; and pacing yourself for the long haul; and integrating walk/run intervals; and most significantly: enjoying yourself and not competing with anyone else! Sheesh! We're here to have FUN, for Pete's sake! (Also I thought it worthwhile to point out, as he attempted to "keep up" with Derek and me, that Riley has absolutely no control over the fact that at age 8, he's just over 4-feet tall...and has short legs...and incidentally began his running program...TODAY. Lighten up, dude!)
I think I finally got through to him, since I managed to run/walk for 27.5 minutes (10 laps) altogether, and he joined me for a large part of it. Then after a refreshing drink of water, I suddenly was possessed by the spirit of Evil Coach, and ordered the Bleacher Steps Drill (mwah hah hah). So we jogged up, across the row, and down the stadium steps a total of 10 times--you know, just to finish out our exercise session on a strong note. Finally we stretched everything out, and returned triumphantly home: sweaty, tired, and pleased with our outing. Oh, and the boys of course felt ravenous on top of that...it's a good thing I saved all that money on shoes, so I can put it right into their Post-Workout empty bellies...and I really hope I wore them out enough so that they don't ask to go running again tomorrow!
How does one top a super-successful shopping spree like this one? By trying out the new apparel, of course! We all laced up our sneaks and headed for the High School track, to perform a Test Workout. My standard plan of attack--honed from many years of running experience...in conjunction with a strong desire to maintain functional knees for several more decades, if possible--is to warm up by walking a lap, then run 8 or 9 more, and finally cool down and stretch. Derek, at age 11, understands the concept, but tends to abbreviate the "Warmup Phase" and get right down to running much more quickly. However, this was the very first time Riley had joined us...and he utterly ignored all cautionary advice and shot off at a dead sprint as soon as his feet hit the track. Of course, half a lap later when I caught up to him, he was already panting. After a few more minutes he was practically in tears, claiming that he "sucked at running" and felt too exhausted to continue. Meanwhile Derek cruised around the circle, off in his own little Running Rhythm, which I noticed judiciously included periods of walking when he felt fatigued. So Riley was treated to a little impromptu lecture (complete with convenient demonstration--just look at your brother!) about figuring out your own speed; and pacing yourself for the long haul; and integrating walk/run intervals; and most significantly: enjoying yourself and not competing with anyone else! Sheesh! We're here to have FUN, for Pete's sake! (Also I thought it worthwhile to point out, as he attempted to "keep up" with Derek and me, that Riley has absolutely no control over the fact that at age 8, he's just over 4-feet tall...and has short legs...and incidentally began his running program...TODAY. Lighten up, dude!)
I think I finally got through to him, since I managed to run/walk for 27.5 minutes (10 laps) altogether, and he joined me for a large part of it. Then after a refreshing drink of water, I suddenly was possessed by the spirit of Evil Coach, and ordered the Bleacher Steps Drill (mwah hah hah). So we jogged up, across the row, and down the stadium steps a total of 10 times--you know, just to finish out our exercise session on a strong note. Finally we stretched everything out, and returned triumphantly home: sweaty, tired, and pleased with our outing. Oh, and the boys of course felt ravenous on top of that...it's a good thing I saved all that money on shoes, so I can put it right into their Post-Workout empty bellies...and I really hope I wore them out enough so that they don't ask to go running again tomorrow!
Monday, August 15, 2011
A Note from the Techo-philes
Another entry into the "Really Should Have Seen This Coming" category: my kids have morphed into full-fledged Tech Junkies...and it's all my fault. I believe I can pinpoint the exact moment the problem began, earlier this year when I upgraded my cell phone to one equipped with Android. Did I strictly NEED to do this? Well...no. But suddenly I held in my hand the freedom of unlimited texting and the power of mobile Facebooking and the convenience of on-the-go e-mailing...it was heady stuff, I tell you. Oh, and as if all that didn't provide enough fresh fun and excitement, I immediately installed Angry Birds (okay, 3 different versions, so what?) to help me fill whatever "down time" I might experience while out pursuing my busy and fulfilling life.
Alright, alright--I might have planted the seedling of Electronics Envy...but then I watered it further when I had to replace my aging (as in "refuses to charge any more so forget listening to music") mp3 player a few months later. After diligently performing copious amounts of online research in order to make an informed, intelligent decision as to what brand and model would suit me best, I ended up with an iPod Touch. The boys seemed positively mesmerized as they watched me play with my little toy--loading my music library, creating playlists...and yes, downloading Angry Birds. Suddenly Derek, who had been insisting for a month that he didn't need any new music on his (hand-me-down) iPod Shuffle because he "just didn't listen to it anymore", started plotting to save up his allowance and buy a player just like mine. "And then," he added brightly, "I just need a few dollars more, and I can get APPS!" Oh. Dear. But this shouldn't come as any surprise whatsoever, since we're talking about the same boy who (because Mom and Dad categorically refused to purchase one for him) hoarded his money faithfully for as many months as it took to buy a Nintendo DS. Then recently he decided to trade up to the DSi, because "it's way cooler, Mom; it has a camera, and you can connect to the Internet!" (Where could he possibly get these fanciful notions? I just can't imagine!)
Meanwhile Riley has duly inherited the family Shuffle and joined the Nerd Patrol with a vengeance. The first thing he requested was that I remove all of the Jonas Brothers songs and stock the device with his absolute favorite band in the entire world: the Black Eyed Peas. Yes, my almost-8-year old has apparently outgrown boy-band pop and instead prefers to get funky with the likes of Will.I.Am and Taboo...oh, and he also harbors a celebrity crush on the lovely Fergie. Sigh. Picture him strutting around the house with his headphones on, belting out "I Gotta Feeling" (ooh, ooh) while Derek collapses to the floor and rolls around in uncontrollable hysterics. Yeah, we simply call this the Pre-Dinner Entertainment around here these days. (In order to drown out the Peas concert, Derek asks to borrow my iPod...and proceeds to mock the Glee selections while searching for some more male-tween-friendly choices...like Usher and Iyaz, evidently. My little Urban Hipster...)
Obviously, then, we can place the blame for the severe (probably incurable) case of Tech Lust squarely on my shoulders. I hereby accept full responsibility for creating the little Gadget Monsters. From now on, I promise to try to demonstrate a more mature, thoughtful attitude toward acquiring and using technological advances in our home. And I’ll definitely get right on that resolution…very, very soon…but first I must address an issue that has recently come to my attention: I just might need a Kindle (Wait! Let me explain! It’s small, and light, and not terribly expensive, and fits in my work bag better than a book! Uh-oh…I’m going to need an Intervention, aren’t I?)
Thursday, August 11, 2011
A Week at Camp Run-Amok
Every year, my Mom Friends lament the rapid passing of Summer. "It just flies by," they moan as first July, then August disappear in a cloud of sunscreen and a puddle of melted ice-cream. In the past, I just nodded my head sympathetically and made vague statements of agreement, but really I was thinking "are you kidding me? Between the boredom and the bickering (and these apply to all of us, not just the boys) I'm ready to send them back to school by August 1st!" I was stymied as to why--for us--Summer seemed to drag its heels rather than hurtle along. However, this School Hiatus has been radically different, and I think I just might have figured it out: perhaps I wasn't keeping us quite busy enough to help pass the long, unplanned hours of Summer Break. Luckily I figured it out in time to schedule a boatload of activities this year, with the goal of minimizing downtime and maximizing funtime. (And the added side-effect of running us around like crazy, but whatever!) Well, it must have worked, because (holy guacamole) it's the middle of August and we can't quite figure out how the heck that happened!
So here it is, the second of two Camp Weeks I arranged for Derek and Riley, to avoid having too many days on end of them being stuck in the house with each other...because that's when things tend toward fighting (them) and yelling (me). After I drop them off for their Sports Camp, they frolic and play for 5 hours and I gain a precious block of kid-free time. Since it's the last opportunity for me--before the next academic and work year begins for all of us--to accomplish tasks without the distraction and interference of tag-along "helpers", I decided the Theme of the Week would be: Putting Things in Order. And what sort of items did I include in the agenda of "stuff that needed to be organized and/or fixed"? Here's a sampling:
--Body parts: I hadn't been to the chiropractor in over a month, and I desperately needed some manipulation to put my neck area back into proper alignment (too bad he doesn't do attitude adjustments as well, or I might bring all 3 of us sometimes!) Aahhhhh...and on a less-therapeutic but equally-important note, it was high time for another one of those delightful leg waxing/enzyme treatment appointments, so I squeezed that into this week as well.
--My car: after 8 days hauling 4 people (plus snacks and gear) through 7 states, the Forester strongly needed...decluttering and freshening. After the full-service carwash, not only have all the crumbs and clods of dirt vanished (like magic...or the work of very talented Detailing Elves), but it now smells fresh and lovely (at least until I pick up 3 sweaty tweens from camp...do you think I can get away with squirting Febreeze directly onto them before allowing them into the vehicle? Hmmm...)
--The Storage Room: we're overdue for a visit to the Consignment Shop/Thrift Store to pass along things that can potentially be re-used by others. (Besides, it usually nets me a little bit of pocket change, just in case I want to have a nice lunch by myself--shhh!)
--The Fridge: because although I put it off for as long as I could (since we've been back from our trip for, oh, 2 weeks now) we need a serious stock-up on food and supplies. As you can imagine, obtaining groceries with the assistance of two Junior Operatives from the Stealth Shopping Team can be...challenging in the best of circumstances. When I'm diligently trying to follow my list and Special Agent Riley is stalking Criminal Mastermind Derek with the scan gun...well, you can understand the problem, right? So I seized the chance to hit both Costco and Giant S-O-L-O and actually came away with (pause) a week's worth of food! From my actual list (gasp)! So that's how it's supposed to go, who knew?
--Fall Scheduling Items: without the usual commotion swirling around me, I was able to make efficient phone calls (and even sound like a civilized, well-mannered adult while doing so) to figure out absolutely critical information, such as the date and time Hip Hop Class will resume. While the darlings were otherwise occupied at Camp, I also managed to enjoy an unhurried, productive meeting with the new Principal at Riley's school, to bring her up to speed on procedures and timelines involved with publishing the Student Newspaper.
In order to achieve all of this (not to mention the routine jobs--like laundry and workouts--that still needed to be crammed in somewhere), I zipped around like a lunatic from one place to the next on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. The sweet payoff happened on Thursday, when I was able to steal a couple of hours to sneak off to the movie theater by myself to see an Adult Film...no, wait, that sounds totally wrong...I just mean a Non-Kid-Friendly-Flick! And I got my own popcorn and soda. (Memo to Self: when you don't have to share, a Small popcorn will probably do. The Medium could have fed my entire family, and seemed to contain approximately the amount of sodium I should consume in, say, a WEEK. That brings me to the Large soda...which served to wash down the popcorn, but resulted in a bathroom break...but do you know they'll refill that sucker for you while you're out there? Did I mention I poured down enough caffeine for, say, a MONTH?) Anyway, I felt completely decadent catching a show in the middle of the day--and man, was it worth it! Tomorrow is the last day for the boys to go do their own thing...I ought to start pondering what else I can get into while they're gone!
So here it is, the second of two Camp Weeks I arranged for Derek and Riley, to avoid having too many days on end of them being stuck in the house with each other...because that's when things tend toward fighting (them) and yelling (me). After I drop them off for their Sports Camp, they frolic and play for 5 hours and I gain a precious block of kid-free time. Since it's the last opportunity for me--before the next academic and work year begins for all of us--to accomplish tasks without the distraction and interference of tag-along "helpers", I decided the Theme of the Week would be: Putting Things in Order. And what sort of items did I include in the agenda of "stuff that needed to be organized and/or fixed"? Here's a sampling:
--Body parts: I hadn't been to the chiropractor in over a month, and I desperately needed some manipulation to put my neck area back into proper alignment (too bad he doesn't do attitude adjustments as well, or I might bring all 3 of us sometimes!) Aahhhhh...and on a less-therapeutic but equally-important note, it was high time for another one of those delightful leg waxing/enzyme treatment appointments, so I squeezed that into this week as well.
--My car: after 8 days hauling 4 people (plus snacks and gear) through 7 states, the Forester strongly needed...decluttering and freshening. After the full-service carwash, not only have all the crumbs and clods of dirt vanished (like magic...or the work of very talented Detailing Elves), but it now smells fresh and lovely (at least until I pick up 3 sweaty tweens from camp...do you think I can get away with squirting Febreeze directly onto them before allowing them into the vehicle? Hmmm...)
--The Storage Room: we're overdue for a visit to the Consignment Shop/Thrift Store to pass along things that can potentially be re-used by others. (Besides, it usually nets me a little bit of pocket change, just in case I want to have a nice lunch by myself--shhh!)
--The Fridge: because although I put it off for as long as I could (since we've been back from our trip for, oh, 2 weeks now) we need a serious stock-up on food and supplies. As you can imagine, obtaining groceries with the assistance of two Junior Operatives from the Stealth Shopping Team can be...challenging in the best of circumstances. When I'm diligently trying to follow my list and Special Agent Riley is stalking Criminal Mastermind Derek with the scan gun...well, you can understand the problem, right? So I seized the chance to hit both Costco and Giant S-O-L-O and actually came away with (pause) a week's worth of food! From my actual list (gasp)! So that's how it's supposed to go, who knew?
--Fall Scheduling Items: without the usual commotion swirling around me, I was able to make efficient phone calls (and even sound like a civilized, well-mannered adult while doing so) to figure out absolutely critical information, such as the date and time Hip Hop Class will resume. While the darlings were otherwise occupied at Camp, I also managed to enjoy an unhurried, productive meeting with the new Principal at Riley's school, to bring her up to speed on procedures and timelines involved with publishing the Student Newspaper.
In order to achieve all of this (not to mention the routine jobs--like laundry and workouts--that still needed to be crammed in somewhere), I zipped around like a lunatic from one place to the next on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. The sweet payoff happened on Thursday, when I was able to steal a couple of hours to sneak off to the movie theater by myself to see an Adult Film...no, wait, that sounds totally wrong...I just mean a Non-Kid-Friendly-Flick! And I got my own popcorn and soda. (Memo to Self: when you don't have to share, a Small popcorn will probably do. The Medium could have fed my entire family, and seemed to contain approximately the amount of sodium I should consume in, say, a WEEK. That brings me to the Large soda...which served to wash down the popcorn, but resulted in a bathroom break...but do you know they'll refill that sucker for you while you're out there? Did I mention I poured down enough caffeine for, say, a MONTH?) Anyway, I felt completely decadent catching a show in the middle of the day--and man, was it worth it! Tomorrow is the last day for the boys to go do their own thing...I ought to start pondering what else I can get into while they're gone!
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Another Day, Another Battlefield...
In a continuing effort to forcibly expose the children to as much culture and history as possible...wait, I mean "provide them with every opportunity to gain knowledge and insight into our great country and its complex, multi-layered, fascinating past"...today we took a Friday Field Trip to Antietam National Battlefield Park in Western Maryland. Of course before setting off on the excursion (being the uber-geek that I am) I searched online to refresh my memory regarding the particulars of the conflict. What I re-learned: it was the single bloodiest one-day battle in American history; 23,000 (yes, thousand) soldiers died in a 24-hour period; (on a more human-interest note) according to one source, the reason some Civil War engagements are recorded with two different names is because the Southerners, typically arising from a "rural, country" background, were impressed by the nearby city, and called the battle after it; while the more urbanized Northerners tended to focus more on the natural landscape, thus choosing the moniker of a creek to mark the skirmish. (Hence: Confederate name: Sharpsburg--Union name: Antietam.)
Armed (ha ha) with our pre-trip research, we sought out the road that would lead us back in time to September 17, 1862 (in this case, that happened to be I-70 West, the ultra-modern highway skirting Frederick). After an easy, pleasant drive through green, rolling hills, we arrived at Antietam. It was a partly-cloudy, cool-ish day (high temp in the low-80s...almost felt COLD after what we've suffered lately), perfect for hiking around a National Park. We oriented ourselves in the Visitor's Center, picking up crucial (although only semi-helpful as it turned out, more on that later) maps and descriptive brochures, then we meandered off. Well...briefly. We initially scoped out all the monuments surrounding the Visitor's Center itself, then intended to do a 1.5 mile hike along "Bloody Lane". (Charming title, yes?) It began promisingly, with a couple of interesting memorials and--better yet--a Park Ranger fully-outfitted as a mounted Union officer with whom we could stop and chat...okay, to be completely honest, we really wanted to pet the horse! But then we attempted to locate the beginning of the trail...and although I comprehended the written directions, and had placed us accurately on the map I held in my hand, darned if I could spot the path anywhere. Feeling a bit foolish, I enlisted a Park Ranger for guidance (demonstrating for my sons that, when confused, it's perfectly acceptable to ask for directions immediately rather than waste precious time fumbling about randomly). She smiled knowingly and, instead of explaining what to do, led us personally to the Observation Deck to point out the way...which in fact is NOT marked at all, but a beeline through a field. (Okay, I don't feel quite so incompetent, now.)
Thus followed an enjoyable couple of hours tromping through expanses of grass, stopping to scan plaques or admire statues or (in one instance) climb a tower to survey the surrounding countryside. The Bloody Lane itself left the strongest impression...a sunken farm path with steep embankments on either side, from which intense and deadly fighting occurred for 3-1/2 hours during the day of combat. Surrounded by an atmosphere of almost-eerie stillness, I found myself glancing up uneasily as I trod along the same dusty steps that soldiers had used in the War Between the States. Pretty powerful stuff. Then we took a brief rest under a tree to eat our "rations" (juice boxes, cheese sticks, and fresh berries--much better fare than either Army received in the 1860s, I know), and rallied ourselves for the Auto Tour portion of our day. (Also not in keeping with the original footsore and deprived Civil War enlistees, but hey, we do what we can in the 21st century...) And here we encountered our only failure of the entire experience: we utterly failed to find Burnside Bridge, one of the important landmarks that we wanted to see. We still don't know what went wrong--we used the map and tried several different routes, but that darn bridge eluded us. (At one point we stumbled upon a signpost that pointed us "1425 yards" in a certain direction...across a fully-planted cornfield. What the?) Finally, we were forced to abandon the quest when my gas light came on and I refused to be stranded with an empty tank (AAA or no AAA) in the middle of East Nowhere. We settled for stopping by the Antietam National Cemetery, which brought the visit to an appropriately solemn and spiritual close.
All-in-all, a productive way to spend a Friday in the Summer--we logged some quality Mom/Son time; we got a great deal of exercise; and we picked up lots of facts about our nation's history. Not bad for a day's work...so I think tomorrow we'll practice our Constitutional right to sit around eating junk food and watching mindless television!
Armed (ha ha) with our pre-trip research, we sought out the road that would lead us back in time to September 17, 1862 (in this case, that happened to be I-70 West, the ultra-modern highway skirting Frederick). After an easy, pleasant drive through green, rolling hills, we arrived at Antietam. It was a partly-cloudy, cool-ish day (high temp in the low-80s...almost felt COLD after what we've suffered lately), perfect for hiking around a National Park. We oriented ourselves in the Visitor's Center, picking up crucial (although only semi-helpful as it turned out, more on that later) maps and descriptive brochures, then we meandered off. Well...briefly. We initially scoped out all the monuments surrounding the Visitor's Center itself, then intended to do a 1.5 mile hike along "Bloody Lane". (Charming title, yes?) It began promisingly, with a couple of interesting memorials and--better yet--a Park Ranger fully-outfitted as a mounted Union officer with whom we could stop and chat...okay, to be completely honest, we really wanted to pet the horse! But then we attempted to locate the beginning of the trail...and although I comprehended the written directions, and had placed us accurately on the map I held in my hand, darned if I could spot the path anywhere. Feeling a bit foolish, I enlisted a Park Ranger for guidance (demonstrating for my sons that, when confused, it's perfectly acceptable to ask for directions immediately rather than waste precious time fumbling about randomly). She smiled knowingly and, instead of explaining what to do, led us personally to the Observation Deck to point out the way...which in fact is NOT marked at all, but a beeline through a field. (Okay, I don't feel quite so incompetent, now.)
Thus followed an enjoyable couple of hours tromping through expanses of grass, stopping to scan plaques or admire statues or (in one instance) climb a tower to survey the surrounding countryside. The Bloody Lane itself left the strongest impression...a sunken farm path with steep embankments on either side, from which intense and deadly fighting occurred for 3-1/2 hours during the day of combat. Surrounded by an atmosphere of almost-eerie stillness, I found myself glancing up uneasily as I trod along the same dusty steps that soldiers had used in the War Between the States. Pretty powerful stuff. Then we took a brief rest under a tree to eat our "rations" (juice boxes, cheese sticks, and fresh berries--much better fare than either Army received in the 1860s, I know), and rallied ourselves for the Auto Tour portion of our day. (Also not in keeping with the original footsore and deprived Civil War enlistees, but hey, we do what we can in the 21st century...) And here we encountered our only failure of the entire experience: we utterly failed to find Burnside Bridge, one of the important landmarks that we wanted to see. We still don't know what went wrong--we used the map and tried several different routes, but that darn bridge eluded us. (At one point we stumbled upon a signpost that pointed us "1425 yards" in a certain direction...across a fully-planted cornfield. What the?) Finally, we were forced to abandon the quest when my gas light came on and I refused to be stranded with an empty tank (AAA or no AAA) in the middle of East Nowhere. We settled for stopping by the Antietam National Cemetery, which brought the visit to an appropriately solemn and spiritual close.
All-in-all, a productive way to spend a Friday in the Summer--we logged some quality Mom/Son time; we got a great deal of exercise; and we picked up lots of facts about our nation's history. Not bad for a day's work...so I think tomorrow we'll practice our Constitutional right to sit around eating junk food and watching mindless television!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Modern Pop Culture 101
One of the amusing and rewarding things about my kids getting older is that Husband and I can start to introduce them to things that we love, be it music, or movies, or books. This has some obvious benefits--goodbye and good riddance, Raffi; hello Jimmy Buffett and Bon Jovi and B.O.B. And it has also been thoroughly enjoyable to sit down and watch beloved films like The Princess Bride and The Rookie and even Star Wars (I refer to the classic 70s trio, of course) with the boys. Derek has recently developed a liking for reading the comics, which surprising requires a higher degree of intellectual development than you'd think, in order to fully understand some of the multi-level puns and double-meanings. He relates to family funnies like Baby Blues (because he recognizes the sibling harassment, no doubt) and especially strips with Middle or High School kids (Derek cracks up when Big Nate exasperates his father and teachers, but the lightsaber battles and D&D-type obsessions of the Foxtrot gang cause him to laugh out loud and snarf his breakfast on a regular basis on Sunday mornings...it's hilarious, but you do NOT want to be sitting across from him, innocently trying to drink your coffee). But just recently, realizing that Derek's humor and comprehension has reached a sophisticated-enough realm to handle it, we presented him with the most treasured of collections: Calvin and Hobbes. Oh, the giggling that has ensued...I can be anywhere in the house--brushing my teeth, folding laundry, whatever--and a grinning Derek will purposely seek me out, in order to read a page aloud to me. I'm so glad that he derives such pleasure from it, but I'd really like to go to the bathroom in peace!
Then there have been some unexpected consequences to the crash course in Intro to Modern Media. For instance, one night Alice in Wonderland was showing on cable (you know, the creepy, disturbing movie with Johnny Depp). I personally cannot even watch five minutes of it without imagining the nightmares I'll be experiencing later that night, but the 3 males sat for a while...perhaps in morbid fascination. Even more unsettling was what occurred the next day, when Derek could be observed streaking about the house, shirtless, pants around his ankles, shrieking, "Help, he's going to stab my Jabber-winky!" (Not that it answers ANY of the myriad questions arising from this...display...but a wooden-stick-wielding Riley was hotly in pursuit. Due to the shocking visual with which I was confronted, the reasons--if any-- for this pandemonium remained unclear). Now that's what I call "artistic exposure" taken waaayy too far! (Sorry! The event clearly scarred me!)
And finally, we arrive at...Middle Earth. That's right, moving up from The Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter, Derek was deemed ready to tackle Tolkien for his Summer Reading Assignment before 6th grade. Into the fantasy world of Aragorn and Gandalf and Elves and Dwarves and Hobbits he courageously leaped. (And although it took him the better part of two months to plow through the complex tale, he did finish it!) Husband even treated both boys to a cinematic screening of The Fellowship of the Ring, which they just adored. (Incidentally, now they know why we began calling them Hobbits a few years ago, when they adopted the practice of eating breakfast...2nd breakfast...elevenses...lunch..."tea" (snack)...and dinner like the fictional creatures do!) Although I wondered if they would be able to handle some of the intense beasts and violent conflict in the movie, they seemed to take it in stride. In fact, the aftermath has been quite benign, mostly consisting of them imitating the frivolous Merry and Pippin (Frodo's sidekicks), complete with goofy sayings and semi-authentic British accents. Oh, and one more thing: in the story, the band of adventurers must pass through the long-abandoned, yet still-perilous Mines of Moria. In the movie, it's a dark and forbidding place, and the scenes themselves are filled with tension and suspense. The characters speak in hushed, fearful tones of what they will find past the "Gateway to Moria", within the "walls of Moria", etc. So what do my delightful sons take away from this? They viewed the movie right before we went on our Road Trip, so while traveling we heard things like, (as we approached the door to our hotel room) "Oh look, it's the Door of Moria!" Or, in Niagara, as we wound our way along a path to look at the falls from another angle, "Ooh, careful, it's the Road to Moria!" The silliness continued to escalate throughout the week, until it peaked the day we hiked in the State Park in Massachusetts. There we were, quietly walking through the woods soaking in Nature, when one of them dramatically burst out with, "Oh no, it's the Squirrel of Moria!" Oh. Good. Grief. Is this why books get banned? For inspiring unadultered nonsense? (My apologies, J.R.R. Tolkien!)
Anyway, most of the time, it's been a win-win proposition: we adults get to be nostalgic and revisit some of our old favorites, and our sons get to appreciate some memorable artistic creations from "Before Their Time". Now if we could only squelch the nudity and the bad jokes before some kind of Juvenile Arts Commission comes after us with a citation, we'll be all right! Sigh. On second thought, maybe it'd be smarter to just start saving up for the inevitable fines...
Then there have been some unexpected consequences to the crash course in Intro to Modern Media. For instance, one night Alice in Wonderland was showing on cable (you know, the creepy, disturbing movie with Johnny Depp). I personally cannot even watch five minutes of it without imagining the nightmares I'll be experiencing later that night, but the 3 males sat for a while...perhaps in morbid fascination. Even more unsettling was what occurred the next day, when Derek could be observed streaking about the house, shirtless, pants around his ankles, shrieking, "Help, he's going to stab my Jabber-winky!" (Not that it answers ANY of the myriad questions arising from this...display...but a wooden-stick-wielding Riley was hotly in pursuit. Due to the shocking visual with which I was confronted, the reasons--if any-- for this pandemonium remained unclear). Now that's what I call "artistic exposure" taken waaayy too far! (Sorry! The event clearly scarred me!)
And finally, we arrive at...Middle Earth. That's right, moving up from The Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter, Derek was deemed ready to tackle Tolkien for his Summer Reading Assignment before 6th grade. Into the fantasy world of Aragorn and Gandalf and Elves and Dwarves and Hobbits he courageously leaped. (And although it took him the better part of two months to plow through the complex tale, he did finish it!) Husband even treated both boys to a cinematic screening of The Fellowship of the Ring, which they just adored. (Incidentally, now they know why we began calling them Hobbits a few years ago, when they adopted the practice of eating breakfast...2nd breakfast...elevenses...lunch..."tea" (snack)...and dinner like the fictional creatures do!) Although I wondered if they would be able to handle some of the intense beasts and violent conflict in the movie, they seemed to take it in stride. In fact, the aftermath has been quite benign, mostly consisting of them imitating the frivolous Merry and Pippin (Frodo's sidekicks), complete with goofy sayings and semi-authentic British accents. Oh, and one more thing: in the story, the band of adventurers must pass through the long-abandoned, yet still-perilous Mines of Moria. In the movie, it's a dark and forbidding place, and the scenes themselves are filled with tension and suspense. The characters speak in hushed, fearful tones of what they will find past the "Gateway to Moria", within the "walls of Moria", etc. So what do my delightful sons take away from this? They viewed the movie right before we went on our Road Trip, so while traveling we heard things like, (as we approached the door to our hotel room) "Oh look, it's the Door of Moria!" Or, in Niagara, as we wound our way along a path to look at the falls from another angle, "Ooh, careful, it's the Road to Moria!" The silliness continued to escalate throughout the week, until it peaked the day we hiked in the State Park in Massachusetts. There we were, quietly walking through the woods soaking in Nature, when one of them dramatically burst out with, "Oh no, it's the Squirrel of Moria!" Oh. Good. Grief. Is this why books get banned? For inspiring unadultered nonsense? (My apologies, J.R.R. Tolkien!)
Anyway, most of the time, it's been a win-win proposition: we adults get to be nostalgic and revisit some of our old favorites, and our sons get to appreciate some memorable artistic creations from "Before Their Time". Now if we could only squelch the nudity and the bad jokes before some kind of Juvenile Arts Commission comes after us with a citation, we'll be all right! Sigh. On second thought, maybe it'd be smarter to just start saving up for the inevitable fines...
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Goodbyes (and a few Giggles) for a Great Aunt
In my last post I wrote about my wonderful Great Aunt Renie, who recently passed away. Her funeral service was held at Arlington National Cemetery, which, as it turns out, merits a narrative in-and-of-itself...so without further ado, I present the "rest of the story"...
To begin, my mother, Aunt Renie's niece and closest surviving, relatively-healthy kin, was in charge of her affairs after her death. When arranging her Memorial Service, my mom knew that the entire attendance would consist of our immediate family--my parents and siblings, spouses, and whichever kids were deemed old enough to understand the proceedings. Since we all reside in Maryland, and the car trip over the American Legion Bridge to Arlington, Virginia can be...dicey at best...Mom decided to hire a limousine to bring us all to the cemetery together. Derek and Riley both had known Aunt Renie and were included in the plan, so imagine their utter jubilation when they found out they'd be riding in an actual LIMO for the first time. (Boys and cars, I tell ya, it starts early...) But first, we had to negotiate the inevitable-but-deeply-annoying "clothes drama"...as in "Riley, you must wear your khakis and polo to this event." "But Mo-om, it's too hot for long pants!" He then sat in his room for 15 minutes dressed in nothing but his underwear, holding the offending articles of clothing and pouting until I yelled at him to "Get dressed right this second!" "But why do I have to wear this?" he wailed plaintively. Through gritted teeth I answered, "Because. It's. Respectful!" (Derek tried to be so helpful, encouragingly telling Riley how good he looked in his "formal wear", but to no avail...Of course, a full 2 minutes after he had donned the hated apparel, Riley cheerfully stated, "Oh yeah, this is more comfortable than I thought!" Grrrrr...)
However, when we arrived at the Funeral Home and spied the enormous white Expedition Limo...Oh. My. Goodness. Every other concern fled from the cousins' heads when they climbed in and began exploring the "amenities". Ooh, bottled water! Buttons to push; what do these do? Is there coffee in that thermos? Can I sit in the very back? You would have thought it was an amusement park ride on wheels. And it seemed absolutely appropriate, as I watched the kids gleefully horsing around--Aunt Renie would had herself a hearty laugh at their youthful antics. (And just maybe joined in, herself!) When we all settled, our driver, Jeff, smoothly and efficiently guided us to Arlington, where we checked in at the Administrative Office to await further instructions. While we were there, ensconced in "Family Room D" we got to watch a flat-screen TV showing a live feed of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Totally cool. Meanwhile, not-quite-8-year old Riley became a bit bored with the delay and asked, "Is it time for the party yet?" "Well, honey," I answered solemnly, "it's really more of a "ceremony". He paused a beat, then inquired with wide-eyed hopefulness, "Will there be snacks?" Um...no...but come to think of it, Aunt Renie would LOVE there to be festivities, and snacks, at a gathering to honor her memory...darn, why didn't I think to bring cheese and crackers?
At the appointed time, we moved on to Uncle Ralph's existing gravesite, where Aunt Renie would also be interred. A complement of soldiers carried her casket to her final resting spot, with fully-orchestrated military precision. It was a sight to behold, lending such gravity and importance to the occasion. Then Pastor John led us in Scripture readings and prayers, and we all placed roses on Aunt Renie's casket while saying our own silent, personal goodbyes. Out in the open air, under the hot July sun, it felt like such a lovely tribute and a fitting way to celebrate an altogether unforgettable lady. Our farewells complete, we re-situated ourselves in the limo for the drive back to Maryland. Derek and Riley and I already know that we must must visit again soon, to take in not only the full grandeur and historical significance of the National Monument that is Arlington Cemetery, but also to place flowers on the newly-carved headstone that will mark both Uncle Ralph's and Aunt Renie's final resting places. Capping off the return journey, Derek made what would have been a rib-tickling joke worthy of Aunt Renie's sense of humor: sitting between my sister and sister-in-law, he exclaimed, "Help, I'm surrounded by ants (aunts), I need some bug spray!" We love you and miss you, and I hope you're chuckling in Heaven, Aunt Renie!
To begin, my mother, Aunt Renie's niece and closest surviving, relatively-healthy kin, was in charge of her affairs after her death. When arranging her Memorial Service, my mom knew that the entire attendance would consist of our immediate family--my parents and siblings, spouses, and whichever kids were deemed old enough to understand the proceedings. Since we all reside in Maryland, and the car trip over the American Legion Bridge to Arlington, Virginia can be...dicey at best...Mom decided to hire a limousine to bring us all to the cemetery together. Derek and Riley both had known Aunt Renie and were included in the plan, so imagine their utter jubilation when they found out they'd be riding in an actual LIMO for the first time. (Boys and cars, I tell ya, it starts early...) But first, we had to negotiate the inevitable-but-deeply-annoying "clothes drama"...as in "Riley, you must wear your khakis and polo to this event." "But Mo-om, it's too hot for long pants!" He then sat in his room for 15 minutes dressed in nothing but his underwear, holding the offending articles of clothing and pouting until I yelled at him to "Get dressed right this second!" "But why do I have to wear this?" he wailed plaintively. Through gritted teeth I answered, "Because. It's. Respectful!" (Derek tried to be so helpful, encouragingly telling Riley how good he looked in his "formal wear", but to no avail...Of course, a full 2 minutes after he had donned the hated apparel, Riley cheerfully stated, "Oh yeah, this is more comfortable than I thought!" Grrrrr...)
However, when we arrived at the Funeral Home and spied the enormous white Expedition Limo...Oh. My. Goodness. Every other concern fled from the cousins' heads when they climbed in and began exploring the "amenities". Ooh, bottled water! Buttons to push; what do these do? Is there coffee in that thermos? Can I sit in the very back? You would have thought it was an amusement park ride on wheels. And it seemed absolutely appropriate, as I watched the kids gleefully horsing around--Aunt Renie would had herself a hearty laugh at their youthful antics. (And just maybe joined in, herself!) When we all settled, our driver, Jeff, smoothly and efficiently guided us to Arlington, where we checked in at the Administrative Office to await further instructions. While we were there, ensconced in "Family Room D" we got to watch a flat-screen TV showing a live feed of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Totally cool. Meanwhile, not-quite-8-year old Riley became a bit bored with the delay and asked, "Is it time for the party yet?" "Well, honey," I answered solemnly, "it's really more of a "ceremony". He paused a beat, then inquired with wide-eyed hopefulness, "Will there be snacks?" Um...no...but come to think of it, Aunt Renie would LOVE there to be festivities, and snacks, at a gathering to honor her memory...darn, why didn't I think to bring cheese and crackers?
At the appointed time, we moved on to Uncle Ralph's existing gravesite, where Aunt Renie would also be interred. A complement of soldiers carried her casket to her final resting spot, with fully-orchestrated military precision. It was a sight to behold, lending such gravity and importance to the occasion. Then Pastor John led us in Scripture readings and prayers, and we all placed roses on Aunt Renie's casket while saying our own silent, personal goodbyes. Out in the open air, under the hot July sun, it felt like such a lovely tribute and a fitting way to celebrate an altogether unforgettable lady. Our farewells complete, we re-situated ourselves in the limo for the drive back to Maryland. Derek and Riley and I already know that we must must visit again soon, to take in not only the full grandeur and historical significance of the National Monument that is Arlington Cemetery, but also to place flowers on the newly-carved headstone that will mark both Uncle Ralph's and Aunt Renie's final resting places. Capping off the return journey, Derek made what would have been a rib-tickling joke worthy of Aunt Renie's sense of humor: sitting between my sister and sister-in-law, he exclaimed, "Help, I'm surrounded by ants (aunts), I need some bug spray!" We love you and miss you, and I hope you're chuckling in Heaven, Aunt Renie!
Friday, July 29, 2011
Bless her little pea-pickin' heart!
Yesterday my Great Aunt Renie (aged 89, although she guarded that fact fiercely, so you never heard it from me...not that I caught a glimpse of her ID one time and did the math or anything...) was laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery with Great Uncle Ralph, her husband who passed away in 1988. Although Memorial Services naturally elicit solemn and mournful emotions, anyone who ever knew my aunt would agree it was also a perfect occasion to celebrate her life and reminisce about her humor, her caring nature, and most of all, her live-out-loud spirit. My earliest memories of Aunt Renie and Uncle Ralph involve them doing their utmost to spoil me rotten. You see, since they never had any children of their own, they really fit the billing of Bonus Grandparents for me and my siblings. They seemed to thrive on indulging us kids--I just can't tell you the number of McDonald's milkshakes I sweet-talked out of them while growing up, but it's so many that I'm probably still working off those calories! My aunt cooked Thanksgiving dinner every year at their apartment in Takoma Park, preparing enough food for approximately a small country, and always fretting that it wouldn't be sufficient to feed all of us. (It was...for days and days afterwards!) Christmas morning, we opened presents at our house, then piled into the car ("over the river and through the woods"...to New Hampshire Avenue we go) for a second present-fest at Aunt Renie and Uncle Ralph's. Whatever cool new toy Mom didn't approve of and refused to allow, you could count on Aunt Renie and Uncle Ralph to ignore the rules and buy anyway!
When they retired to Florida, we didn't see them as much of course, but we did take family car trips down to Vero Beach to visit. (Besides, they lived 2 hours from Disney World!) When Uncle Ralph died, unexpectedly and far too early at the age of 70, Aunt Renie remained in Florida on her own. By that time I was almost finished with college, and after graduate school I got a job with a public school system here in Maryland. Why do I bother to mention this? Because even as an adult, I got a Spring Break! My college buddy Dot and I started driving down to stay with Great Aunt Renie for that March hiatus every year, and it was then that I truly came to understand and appreciate just how hilarious Renie was. She kept us in stitches joking about setting Dot up on blind dates with the Maintenance Man who was coming to fix the hot water heater, or teasing us about our futile attempts to find something "hip and happening" to do in retiree-haven Vero Beach...or sternly admonishing us about a bar we (finally) discovered, "You can not go there, people get knifed in the parking lot!" (For the record, it was a completely safe watering hole, our favorite part being the sign when you entered that said, "No shirt, no shoes...free beer!" She LOVED that when we told her the next morning.) Since Renie had never learned to drive, while we were in town we chauffered her to the grocery store and her hair appointment and the movies and Dodgers Spring Training games and our favorite local restaurant called Mr. Manatees. Lots of laughter, countless good times.
Over the years, though, Renie's health began to decline, as complications from her diabetes set in and then steadily worsened. She developed circulatory problems and issues with her vision, and we all began to wonder if she should be living by herself, 2,000 miles away. The discussion became moot, however, with the arrival of the historic 2005 Hurricane Season. While her entire area in Florida was evacuated to safety, Renie's house surrendered its roof to an early storm (Dennis), then suffered irreplaceable damage when Rita hit, a few months later. She had no choice at that point but to move back north, into an Assisted Living facility that could meet her medical and physical needs. The last several years of her life unfortunately were marked by decreasing mobility and increasing health worries. Through it all, though, she retained her wit and her gregarious personality. She enjoyed watching (and griping about when necessary) the Orioles and Ravens; she never tired of a good joke (or a terrible one, as a matter of fact); she lived to trade stories (and demonstrated an innate gift for exaggeration) and to share chuckles. This is how I will remember her, and why I will miss her. But now her pain and suffering are over, and I firmly believe she's with the angels at this moment, watching over us (she always was a little nosy), catching up on 23 years of wearing Uncle Ralph's ear out (yep, she could have been a professional talker in her day), and drinking sweet tea while pursuing her all-time favorite hobby: BINGO. So if you're listening, Aunt Renie, we love you, God bless you, and rest in peace.
When they retired to Florida, we didn't see them as much of course, but we did take family car trips down to Vero Beach to visit. (Besides, they lived 2 hours from Disney World!) When Uncle Ralph died, unexpectedly and far too early at the age of 70, Aunt Renie remained in Florida on her own. By that time I was almost finished with college, and after graduate school I got a job with a public school system here in Maryland. Why do I bother to mention this? Because even as an adult, I got a Spring Break! My college buddy Dot and I started driving down to stay with Great Aunt Renie for that March hiatus every year, and it was then that I truly came to understand and appreciate just how hilarious Renie was. She kept us in stitches joking about setting Dot up on blind dates with the Maintenance Man who was coming to fix the hot water heater, or teasing us about our futile attempts to find something "hip and happening" to do in retiree-haven Vero Beach...or sternly admonishing us about a bar we (finally) discovered, "You can not go there, people get knifed in the parking lot!" (For the record, it was a completely safe watering hole, our favorite part being the sign when you entered that said, "No shirt, no shoes...free beer!" She LOVED that when we told her the next morning.) Since Renie had never learned to drive, while we were in town we chauffered her to the grocery store and her hair appointment and the movies and Dodgers Spring Training games and our favorite local restaurant called Mr. Manatees. Lots of laughter, countless good times.
Over the years, though, Renie's health began to decline, as complications from her diabetes set in and then steadily worsened. She developed circulatory problems and issues with her vision, and we all began to wonder if she should be living by herself, 2,000 miles away. The discussion became moot, however, with the arrival of the historic 2005 Hurricane Season. While her entire area in Florida was evacuated to safety, Renie's house surrendered its roof to an early storm (Dennis), then suffered irreplaceable damage when Rita hit, a few months later. She had no choice at that point but to move back north, into an Assisted Living facility that could meet her medical and physical needs. The last several years of her life unfortunately were marked by decreasing mobility and increasing health worries. Through it all, though, she retained her wit and her gregarious personality. She enjoyed watching (and griping about when necessary) the Orioles and Ravens; she never tired of a good joke (or a terrible one, as a matter of fact); she lived to trade stories (and demonstrated an innate gift for exaggeration) and to share chuckles. This is how I will remember her, and why I will miss her. But now her pain and suffering are over, and I firmly believe she's with the angels at this moment, watching over us (she always was a little nosy), catching up on 23 years of wearing Uncle Ralph's ear out (yep, she could have been a professional talker in her day), and drinking sweet tea while pursuing her all-time favorite hobby: BINGO. So if you're listening, Aunt Renie, we love you, God bless you, and rest in peace.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Home Again, home again...
Well, the 2011 WestEnders Summer Road Trip is officially in the books.
The Final Totals go something like this:
Days traveled: 8
Cities visited: 3 (in 2 different states and one entirely different country)
Miles Driven: 1,408 (all by yours truly, and most of them were totally painless...but let me state with utmost conviction that after surviving Road Construction from Hell in Connecticut and the %#$* George Washington Bridge in New York, I do not wish to navigate the 435 miles between Boston and my house EVER AGAIN in this lifetime!!!!!)
States passed through: 7 (MD, PA, NY, MA, CT, NJ, DE)
Tanks of gas: 4
Tolls: $33.49 (all paid while moving through the plaza in the EZ Pass Lane at 15 mph or more...I don't know how I ever survived without one of those little transponder doohickeys! Not only did I never have to fumble for the correct amount of money, I didn't even glance at the sign that tells you what the fee is!)
Restaurant meals: many (I don't even want to think about it--the MasterCard bill is going to cause me delayed indigestion next month)
Miles walked: ?? (Let's just say I came back from vacation lighter than when I left, thanks to our rigorous schedule of pedestrian sightseeing...best guess is that we hoofed and/or hiked 3-5 miles a day at a minimum)
Family Memories: too numerous to count, all of them priceless (MasterCard bill notwithstanding : )
Last observations from the Nomadic Life:
--I witnessed a disturbing number of men wearing what could only be described as "capri pants". The first time I did a double take, unsure if I'd mistaken a male for a short-haired woman. Nope, those were definitely a man's legs...I fervently hoped that it was just, maybe, a one-time sighting--perhaps a European tourist or something. But no, I spotted the man-crops over and over again. Now, I'm no fashion icon, of course, but if I might weigh in with my opinion: NO NO NO NO! It's just looks so wrong. Please, guys, choose either pants that reach your ankles, or actual shorts, and leave the capris to the girls. Thank you very much.
--Since I'm on the subject of apparel: I also noticed a significant number of women tooling around in either flimsy flip-flops or mile-high wedges. Besides the obvious danger factor (no lie, I watched a girl slip and fall on her butt at Niagara Falls, then actually appear confused as to why she was sitting on a wet rock with her beach-shoes sticking out in front of her), and the risk of extreme discomfort (the Freedom Trail in heels? Ouch!), I wondered how on earth these--albeit stylish--women could possibly cover any ground in that ridiculous footwear. Or doesn't everyone on vacation force-march themselves 5 miles a day to maximize their sightseeing time?
--Finally, I learned a few valuable lessons to tuck away for future tour-planning. First, the boys surpassed my expectations and hopes by being pleasant, cooperative, and tireless on this "test trip." Cars, boats, subways, city-walking, trail-hiking, they did it all with energy and enthusiasm to burn. Road Trip Warriors they proved themselves to be. (Huzzah!) The second revelation was more of a self-insight. After spending my 20s driving around the US, sleeping in budget (not "fleabag", but shall we say, "lacking in amenities") motels or youth hostels to save money, I'm quite O-V-E-R the bargain-basement traveling mode. Or maybe it's because I'm older now, and more appreciative of my creature comforts...but our boys are rapidly getting spoiled by the nice (not Hilton-level, but WAY above your average Motel 6) hotels we pick these days. (Oh well, I guess they can still be seasoned travelers but not "rough it", yes?) And last but not least: really the only stressful aspect of our vacation revolved around the big F--Food! Since the last 2 trips included all meals, it was a bit of a hassle to have to consider where and when our next nosh was coming from. And of course it was somewhat of a shock to the old Bottom Line, paying out-of-pocket for each and every breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack required by 2 half-grown and one full-grown male. Sheesh. So in talking this over, Husband and I fully agreed that our next Summer Getaway will be to some kind of all-inclusive Resort where every time one of the kids professes hunger, we can shoo them off to the Food Court for some (already paid for) sustenance.
There you have it, the Ultimate Wrapup from Team WestEnders. Now it's back to "normal"...maybe starting with a nice nap while the boys get re-acquainted with the Wii they missed so much...
The Final Totals go something like this:
Days traveled: 8
Cities visited: 3 (in 2 different states and one entirely different country)
Miles Driven: 1,408 (all by yours truly, and most of them were totally painless...but let me state with utmost conviction that after surviving Road Construction from Hell in Connecticut and the %#$* George Washington Bridge in New York, I do not wish to navigate the 435 miles between Boston and my house EVER AGAIN in this lifetime!!!!!)
States passed through: 7 (MD, PA, NY, MA, CT, NJ, DE)
Tanks of gas: 4
Tolls: $33.49 (all paid while moving through the plaza in the EZ Pass Lane at 15 mph or more...I don't know how I ever survived without one of those little transponder doohickeys! Not only did I never have to fumble for the correct amount of money, I didn't even glance at the sign that tells you what the fee is!)
Restaurant meals: many (I don't even want to think about it--the MasterCard bill is going to cause me delayed indigestion next month)
Miles walked: ?? (Let's just say I came back from vacation lighter than when I left, thanks to our rigorous schedule of pedestrian sightseeing...best guess is that we hoofed and/or hiked 3-5 miles a day at a minimum)
Family Memories: too numerous to count, all of them priceless (MasterCard bill notwithstanding : )
Last observations from the Nomadic Life:
--I witnessed a disturbing number of men wearing what could only be described as "capri pants". The first time I did a double take, unsure if I'd mistaken a male for a short-haired woman. Nope, those were definitely a man's legs...I fervently hoped that it was just, maybe, a one-time sighting--perhaps a European tourist or something. But no, I spotted the man-crops over and over again. Now, I'm no fashion icon, of course, but if I might weigh in with my opinion: NO NO NO NO! It's just looks so wrong. Please, guys, choose either pants that reach your ankles, or actual shorts, and leave the capris to the girls. Thank you very much.
--Since I'm on the subject of apparel: I also noticed a significant number of women tooling around in either flimsy flip-flops or mile-high wedges. Besides the obvious danger factor (no lie, I watched a girl slip and fall on her butt at Niagara Falls, then actually appear confused as to why she was sitting on a wet rock with her beach-shoes sticking out in front of her), and the risk of extreme discomfort (the Freedom Trail in heels? Ouch!), I wondered how on earth these--albeit stylish--women could possibly cover any ground in that ridiculous footwear. Or doesn't everyone on vacation force-march themselves 5 miles a day to maximize their sightseeing time?
--Finally, I learned a few valuable lessons to tuck away for future tour-planning. First, the boys surpassed my expectations and hopes by being pleasant, cooperative, and tireless on this "test trip." Cars, boats, subways, city-walking, trail-hiking, they did it all with energy and enthusiasm to burn. Road Trip Warriors they proved themselves to be. (Huzzah!) The second revelation was more of a self-insight. After spending my 20s driving around the US, sleeping in budget (not "fleabag", but shall we say, "lacking in amenities") motels or youth hostels to save money, I'm quite O-V-E-R the bargain-basement traveling mode. Or maybe it's because I'm older now, and more appreciative of my creature comforts...but our boys are rapidly getting spoiled by the nice (not Hilton-level, but WAY above your average Motel 6) hotels we pick these days. (Oh well, I guess they can still be seasoned travelers but not "rough it", yes?) And last but not least: really the only stressful aspect of our vacation revolved around the big F--Food! Since the last 2 trips included all meals, it was a bit of a hassle to have to consider where and when our next nosh was coming from. And of course it was somewhat of a shock to the old Bottom Line, paying out-of-pocket for each and every breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack required by 2 half-grown and one full-grown male. Sheesh. So in talking this over, Husband and I fully agreed that our next Summer Getaway will be to some kind of all-inclusive Resort where every time one of the kids professes hunger, we can shoo them off to the Food Court for some (already paid for) sustenance.
There you have it, the Ultimate Wrapup from Team WestEnders. Now it's back to "normal"...maybe starting with a nice nap while the boys get re-acquainted with the Wii they missed so much...
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