Simple Joys

One of the great things that keeps happening on this trip are those unplanned moments of "this is the best trip ever!"  from my kids.  This photo was taken yesterday morning, on a nearly-empty, unspoiled beach in Kittery, Maine.  As you can tell from Patti's beach attire, we hadn't planned on staying at the beach because the day had started chilly and cloudy.  But, once there, with the sun emerging from the clouds, the kids found the powdery sand, the shells, the seaweed, the gentle waves, and the possibility of getting totally muddy and wet to be irresistible.  This particular beach is a residents-only, undeveloped beach:  no bathroom/showers, no snack bar, and a tiny parking area on the end of a winding, tree-lined road.  So, I found the most inviting driftwood log-seat I could find, and took several hours to play hide-and-seek with the sunshine and watch my happy crew dig, splash, shiver, jump waves, and collect treasures.

We have spent a number of very busy, people-filled days with extended family, big meals to prepare, and the daily tasks of maintaining our various "campsites" in my Mom's house, so it was pure bliss to do nothing but sit and simply inhale deeply that potpourri of seaweed and salt marsh and the air of the ocean itself.  For a few breaths, I was once again that happily soggy little girl with sand and seaweed in her wind-tangled hair, chasing my brothers down the beach, or quietly exploring the silky-gritty texture of powder-fine sand mixed with seawater.  

At one point, Patti found a large kelp "tail" that she decided was a huge paintbrush, and she spent quite a while exploring the artistic effects of dragging it along the low-tide sand in swirling patterns.  What artist would not be delighted with a canvas as wide as the seashore?  Eventually, she felt her work was "done" and signed her name, in letters at least 7-feet high.   I'd like to think that someday when my "work" is done, I'd be proud to sign it in 7-foot-high letters.

Today, I got to savor another simple joy. While my husband, my mom, and my brothers entertained my kids and their cousins,  I visited two very dear friends, Brett and his husband, Dave.  Brett has been my friend since our college days (yes, that was a long, long time ago), and is the most gifted voice teacher I know.  After receiving the precious gift of a voice lesson with Brett,  I sat at a delicious lunch (thanks, guys !) with these two loving, generous men and witnessed the grace with which they are facing some of life's most daunting challenges: cancer, aging parents, more cancer, and job uncertainty.  My friends are a couple of incredible Life-gardeners.  A lot of "stuff" has landed in the garden that is their life, and they are "composting" it for the blooming of their quiet and kindly souls into new life.  They are turning their lives into the kind of art that they will be proud to sign their names to, in 7-foot-high letters.

We've got a couple more days here in Maine, which includes another visit with an old friend (Nancy, whom I've known since elementary school, and her terrific husband, Jeff), and a few more meals of great New England seafood in my mom's favorite local restaurants.   And then, it's back to road adventures, and more visits with dear friends along the way.

But for now, it's time for a glass of wine with my brothers, and Andre, while we wait for my Mom's dinner masterpiece to come out of the oven.  To Life!  Salut!

 Saturday, June 10 – Kittery Point, Maine  
 Find pictures from the beginning of the trip to this point at http://www.flickr.com/photos/64026048@N08/

(Sorry for the long delay between posts.  It's been a series of long days on the road with no time to blog. )

On Wednesday, we said, “See ya Friday” to our Chicago Wall-Family: Larry, Lauren, Nolan, and Aiko, the affection-sponge who is otherwise known as a golden retriever, and navigated (with maps, no gps) our way out of Chicago on our way to Gettysburg, PA. (That, in itself, would make a good episode of a reality tv show.)   The “nine hour drive” predicted by the AAA triptik took us about 4 hours longer than that, and even though we woke up the night manager to check-in at our hotel, he was sharp enough to follow us to our room, to bring me the bag that I had left at the front desk, in my bleary-eyed state. 

The Visitors’ Center at Gettysburg was impressive, with its vivid,stirring film presentation, about the battle, the collection of artifacts, and as the 19^th-century oil-painting "cyclorama"  that depicted the disaster of Pickett’s Charge.  As we walked the Gettysburg National Cemetery in the steamy mid-day heat, an energetic WWII vet (with his ribbons, medals, and various insignia on his cap, his vest, and shirt), who was also touring Gettysburg, gave the kids a history mini-quiz and was quite pleased with their answers.  We were honored to thank him for his service to America and to listen to his story of being wounded in Germany during the war.  (As usual, we seem to make our “tours” more like visits with people.) After we’d had enough steaming and baking ourselves in Gettysburg, we headed for Connecticut and the enthusiastic welcome of some of my old school friends from Darien High School, gathered at the home of Kris (Clarke) Bruno and her husband, Tom.  My kids were anticipating “just a bunch of old people sitting around” and had been warned to make themselves unobtrusive.  So, naturally, they rushed into Kris’ house, cap-guns blazing, and the raging imaginary gun-battle with a couple of Kris’ adult children lasted several hours, with the help of three large, excited dogs, and lots of yelling and laughing. During a break in the action, Jimmy Leary (one of the “kids” from my old neighborhood who might be called “Jim” or “James” by the other people in his world), took my kids to see some 4-legged kids in Kris’ barn: goats, rabbits, and horses.  I’m hoping that one of the “old people sitting around” will post those silly pictures of our “totally boring” (HA!) time. 

Calvin was invited by Tom to make free use of his BB gun to hunt the elusive aluminum can on their lush 5 acres of ancient Connecticut woods, "if it's Ok with your Mom."  

Of course I consented.  I'm that bad a mom. 

After a morning in the kid-paradise that is the Bruno home: trampoline, zipline, rope-swing, pool, animals to play with, woods to explore, more target-practice with the BB gun, my kids were wondering if Kris’ paralegal expertise might extend to adoption papers… 

A huge THANK YOU and much love to Kris, Tom, Alex, Sara, Cassidy, and Eden for their wonderful hospitality, and to my “old people” friends from back in the day: Matt (and Ray—you are a TREASURE), Debra, Jimmy, and Dagmar, for coming out on a worknight, in the pouring rain, to welcome the Hedrick Herd back to New England.  Calvin asked me, as we drove off, headed for Gramma’s house in Kittery, Maine on Friday afternoon, “Are all your friends this cool?  Are there more like this that we’ll get to meet?”  

My answer was an emphatic “Absolutely!” 

We’re now happily settled here at my Mom’s house in Kittery Point.  Andre has joined us for the week, and the Chicago family is here as well.  The Connecticut branch of the Wall family is due in very soon.  Tomorrow, we’ll all go to Mom’s church and celebrate the baptism/dedication of little Nolan Robert Wall.  

Was it worth the 4,000-something miles of road so far?  Absolutely !

Auntie Val and the Wild Bunch Hit Chicago

...and only half a day off schedule.  On Monday, we all got up on the wrong side of the bed.  I know this because, when I came down to the breakfast area, to find that my older kids were not eating breakfast, but publicly fighting over internet games on the business-center computer, I blew my stack.  A cowboy-boots-wearing, bald-pated gentleman turned around from his place at the front desk and drawled "Aw, Mama, why do ya hafta be so mean?" More than an hour later, as we were finally loading the car, or rather, I was un-loading the stash-and-dash mess that would not allow the the rear hatch to close, while simultaneously scolding all four kids, while they ignored me and continued insulting each other by arguing about who was truly the ... archaic feminine hygiene product... that is the epithet of choice among the pre-teen set, the same parenting expert drove past in his pick-up, and asked, "Didn't you get them young'uns straightened out yet, Lady?"

Yup.  I think he's already written his letter of recommendation for that Mother of the Year award for me.

So, nearly two hours behind schedule, we began what was supposed to be a 13-hour run to Chicago, with what I had planned to be a "quick" stop at the famous Wall Drug in Wall, SD (most of you know that my maiden name is "Wall", so I just had to at least pick up a bumper sticker). Alas, I had not read-up on the amazing invention they have there, the one that somehow turns 15 minutes into an hour and a half, plus cap-pistols, photo-ops, donuts, and whining.  Silly me.

We loved the Badlands ( I need to read up and try to understand why they are called that.), and it was a delight when we got into western Minnesota,  to finally see the real-life version of the farm pictured in advertising, and immortalized by Fisher-Price: the red barn, silo, white farm house, nestled among trees, with the contented black and white Holsteins grazing on the rolling green hills.  And then  there were more of those, and more of those, and more green pastures, and more green... and... not much else for the entire length of I-90 through the rest of the state. By the time we reached the Wisconsin Dells, it was nearly 11p.m. and I was not fit to drive anymore, so we found a hotel and made a morning start for our destination here in Chicago: the Rogers Park home of my younger brother, Larry, his wife, Lauren, and their almost-3-month-old son, Nolan.  After a a Chicago-style deep-dish pizza lunch, we had little tour of the city, some time on the beach at Lake Michigan, and came back to the apartment to babysit little Nolan for the evening.  (I'm glad my sister-in-law did not witness the lovely parenting scene in Rapid City before she entrusted her precious firstborn to me and the Hedrick Herd.)  Seriously, though, as much as I have loved the scenery on this trip, tonight's quiet evening in, with my kids watching old  80's TV shows on Hulu, and taking turns cuddling their little cousin, singing to him, learning how to warm-up a bottle and change a diaper, was a very, very beautiful sight.  Wherever I may wander... there's no place like home, even if it's someone else's home.  Family is irreplaceable: and that cuts both ways.

Tomorrow, a long-ish haul to Gettysburg, PA.   We'll be listening to Civil War history on the way.  My kids are getting a broad education: from poopy diapers to Pickett's Charge.

If I say I've fallen in love with the Black Hills National Forest, does that make me unfaithful?

I sure hope not, because I have.  Fallen in love with the Black Hills, that is.  They are softer and greener than the Sierra, and the sky seems more generous somehow. My kids are getting mighty tired of my rhapsodies of delight over birches and aspens just coming into pale, leafy sparkle.  OK, I'll stop talking about "clean" after today, but  I wonder if it's the influence of all those Scanda-who-vian immigrants in pioneer days who have preserved their neatnik ways down through the generations.  I mean, we pulled into Keystone, home of dozens of ticky-tacky tee-shirt shops and those uniquely tourist-town eateries emitting oily vapors, at around 9:30 a.m., and every shop keeper was sweeping, window-washing, and one guy was even pressure-washing the boardwalk area in front of his restaurant. (I know, it does sound like I've been standing in the Mount Rushmore sunshine too long, doesn't it? )

(I've despaired of adding photos directly to this blog, but here's a link to a shutterfly site with the slideshow so far:  http://rideofthevalkyries2011.shutterfly.com/pictures#n_5  

Today began with Rhys entertaining an older gentleman in the breakfast area of the hotel with a discussion of the merits of the different colors of Froot Loops (foodies, look away!) and when we could break up that party, we started out on an exploration of Keystone, Rushmore Cavern, Mount Rushmore, and Hill City.  As usual, Calvin and Mark both found the various park rangers, tour guides, and docents to be fascinating buffets of knowledge, and proceeded to pig-out on all the info the experts could offer.  Patti and Calvin both decided to do the Junior Ranger program at Mt. Rushmore, earning their badges after completing a knowledge-quest of various info, and submitting to a short quiz. The examining ranger told Patti that her answers were full of "stuff that I never hear from the kids who do this program"... I hope that means it was good. 

 Meanwhile, Mark, who bought his very first pocketknife at a souvenir stand in Keystone, spent some very happy whittling time while listening to the park rangers, and managed to teach himself one of those small, absolutely necessary lessons about working with a pocket-knife.  Fortunately, the ranger popped off her hat, and produced an antiseptic wipe and a band-aid.  We'll call that a different kind of "badge" for Mark.  Skinned knuckle or not, I'd rather Mark work on his fine-motor dexterity with whittling than have him zone-out with one of those two-thumbed electronic pacifiers that I've some kids carry around.  (And, no, Gramma, I'm not letting the boys whittle in the car.  The knives go into my purse for safe keeping.) 

And at the moment, I'm watching my kids play with half a dozen other travelling kids in the hotel pool... my poor, unsocialized, homeschooled kids, tee-hee.  Tomorrow, we embark on a VERY long one-day run to Chicago.  Yes, I'm crazy.  Prayers would be appreciated.  

Late night laundry room thoughts

Greetings from another day on this trail of friendly folks, clean gas-station restrooms, periodic announcements of farts (I am travelling with three boys, after all), and spontaneous fun.  On a fuel-stop in the vast open spaces of Eastern Wyoming, we had a water-gun fight at a gas-station stop in Sundance, kind of our own version of the Battle of the Little Bighorn.  As we passed by the town of Spearfish, Calvin suggested that we check out what looked like a really cool waterpark.  It turned out to be part of the city-owned rec. center in Spearfish, and it was an excellent water park:  clean, new, well-run, full of friendly folks, and really cheap.  I will post some photos on this blog eventually, but I won't be posting the photo that Patti took of Calvin and me, on an inflateable raft, zooming down a waterslide, unless I'm sure that I'm mostly hidden by splash.  Also spontaneous, but not quite so fun was the hour or so we spent visiting with the friendly folks at the local ER, after a teen-age gal fell off the "water-climbing" wall and landed on Patti's face.  Patti was bruised and bloodied enough that we needed to verify that her nose wasn't broken.  It isn't.  She'll be fine in a day or so when the swelling goes down.  And the little owie was not enough to stop her from deciding to play with her brothers at the pool here at our hotel, after we checked in this evening.  Kids... an afternoon at the water park, and they still want to play in the pool.  I was like that once.

And now I'm doing laundry.  Plus ca change, eh?

But seriously, we are having a WONDERFUL time.  The scenery has been glorious, and the logistics of our travelling routine are getting easier and easier with repetition.  The kids have decided not to rotate their "jobs" for the trip, so Mark is keeping our accounts, and helping the other kids to understand that this travelling thing is NOT free.  Calvin is getting more and more skilled at map-reading and noticing exits and mileage, as well as helping me to not freak out when the computer-generated driving directions do not correspond to the road signage.  Patti is our food-service coordinator par excellence.  She can slap together lunch from cooler while travelling at 80 mph, and can tell you how many bags of baby carrots we have left, and how many yogurts.  Today's turkey-and-cheese with horseradish sandwich, with a side of cherry tomatoes and ranch dip was better than many, many in-flight meals I've had.

Well, the clothes are almost dried and I need to get some rest.  Tomorrow, we explore the Black Hills, Mount Rushmore, Crazy Horse, and... who knows?  from our temporary base here in Rapid City.

The only thing I'm missing on this trip is adult company.  I guess that's where you all come in.

When in Casper, order Chinese food

...unless you actually like Chinese food.  In which case, you might go for Mexican or steaks or something.  Oh well, at least it wasn't Burger King again.  Greetings from Casper, Wyoming, where everything has a silouette of a cowboy on it, and Ming House on historic 2nd Street plays country music to accompany your dinner.  The drive today was SPECTACULAR, and not nearly as long as yesterday's run.  We are going to have to do some remedial geology study when we get back.  There were just SO many different land formations and types of rock in the road cuts between Salt Lake City and Casper that none of us, not even Mr. Encyclopedia, Calvin, could identify.  We also stopped at one of those "wildlife viewing areas" where the wildlife actually obliged.  After taking a posed shot in front of a sign titled "Wyoming Wildlife", we then spotted a Pronghorn antelope mother and baby (awwwww...).  Unfortunately, the camera battery died, so you'll just have to believe me on that one.  We've been in phone contact with Andre, when cell-service permits, and he informs us that our dog, Cricket, spent ALL of yesterday perched on a bench in front of the living room window, waiting for the rest of her pack to return.  I think we may have to set up a doggy-skype for her and the kids.

Salt Lake City via SNOW in June

Good morning from Salt Lake City!  We pulled in here around 1 a.m. local time, but had a memorable, and mostly easy drive all day.  We marvelled at the deep snow on the mountainsides in the Sierra, coming over Donner Summit, but were very grateful that the roads were clear and dry.  My knuckles got kinda stiff from gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as we navigated a mix of sleet/snow near the summit, but that will pass.  Sunset lit the snow-capped peaks of the ? Sawtooth? Wasatch? amazing shades of rose and orange, which we watched from the kids' playscape at Burger King in Elko, Nevada.  (Foodies, just close your eyes to the fast-food references.  There may be several.)

We've been listening to a biography of Crazy Horse, and having great discussions about what happens when cultures collide.  It's fascinating to hear what an 8 year old would have done if he'd been in charge of the Bureau of Indian Affairs in the 1850's.  The kids are doing a great job of sharing, helping me, and helping each other.  I'm sure there will be days when they are ready to kill each other, but for now, I'm grateful.

Another thing to be grateful for:  when the kids went down to the car this morning, to retrieve our breakfast box, they found one door standing open.  (I'm not sure how that happened, as I KNOW I pushed the "door close" button.) There was really nothing to steal, except a few dirty socks, and the iPods.  The iPods were under some dirty kleenexes and I guess the would-be thieves were not allergy sufferers?  The iPods were both still there. Unfortunately, so were the dirty socks.

ONWARD toward Mount Rushmore and the Crazy Horse Monument !