Journal Day 11

Well, we certainly know that we have left the country. There are people everywhere in our hotel. It almost seems that they are multiplying – kind of like squash on a vine. We got up to a noisy hotel and headed out for the early service at Christ the King Lutheran Church.

The church has a radio broadcast of its services as well as a parochial school. This was a much different experience than our little mountain church of a week ago – but just as friendly. We were greeted warmly at the door and welcomed in person by both Pastors Neugebauer and Goble before the service.

While we were sitting in the pew waiting for the service to begin, a man sitting with his two children turned around and spoke to my husband. “I think that I’ve seen you before,” he said. After a few quick questions, turns out this man’s wife – the church organist – was a graduate of St John’s in Winfield. They come back every so often for the college reunion. Apparently, he and my husband had talked while they were visiting Trinity Lutheran in Winfield. We spoke with his wife later and found that we had several common acquaintances. It just goes to show you that no matter how you slice it, it’s still a very small world.

The service was great. The boys still didn’t want to go up to children’s time – too shy. During the summer, Pastor Goble let children take a bag home and bring things back. A young girl had taken it home and brought it back filled with two additional bags. Taped on the outside of the bags was $1 bill and a message for Pastor Goble. It read, “Pass the buck to Pastor Chuck.” And Pastor Goble gladly did.

Paster Neugebauer preached on Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43. He started with a great illustration on the futility of living for this life only. He talked about some of the wonderful achievements he had done in his life – athletic awards, getting a date with the most beautiful girl in high school, raising four boys and even being a grandpa. Then, he said that he had just done something in the last week that made him the proudest of all. Prouder than any of those other things – and he held up a tomato. He said, “Look at this. I, Pastor Chuck Neugebauer grew this beautiful tomato.” Then he caught himself. He said, “Well, God actually grew it. I just managed to not kill it.”

He went on to say that he would like to put the tomato on a shelf for all to see. But, in reality, he knew that the tomato’s life would be fleeting. In fact, if he put it on the shelf, it would soon begin to rot and die. I’m not sure how he did it (I had to do a little parenting in the pew just then) but he began discussing how we should live each moment of life reacting to and treating people as they will be in heaven, not as they are now – a good way to move through life, I think.

After church, we returned to the hotel, changed, packed up and headed out to see Mud Island – a museum and river park on the edge of the Mississippi River. The museum, about the culture and history along the Mississippi River was terrific. It had 18 galleries and life size replicas of a gunnery boat and steamboat. The boys enjoyed climbing on these. They also had an audio tour that added embellishments and voices about the exhibits on display. The museum was well done. The pace was just right. The tour Nazi called out the numbers that we were to type into the MP3 again. We had a great time.

Outside of the museum there was a to-scale model of the lower Mississippi. It was a topographical map which was a great hands-on way to demonstrate the curves and depths of the river as it rolls from it’s juncture with the Ohio all the way to it’s delta in Louisiana. We spotted the location where we crossed at Cairo and the boys had fun wading in the river from there to the Arkansas line.

After that, we headed back to our car on the monorail that we had taken out to the island and headed across the Mississippi River bridge and into Arkansas on I-40. The trip was easy this time – Interstate the entire way. I sat back, began to read one of my library books and enjoyed the rest of the day on the road.

We stopped at about 8:30 in Tahlequah, OK at the Holiday Inn Express. We sat for about an hour while the boys enjoyed swimming in the pool. We met another family of boys that were looking forward to a canoe trip on the Illinois the following day. We told them about our harrowing adventure on the Green and wished them a sunny, cloudless day.

Journal, Day 10

This day of travel started extremely slowly as none of us were really very excited to leave the railcar. We were having a ton of fun just hanging out and watching TV in our beds – my husband and I had a queen size and the boys were sleeping on a daybed with a trundle. I finished my book, my husband got a nice long sleep in and the boys were completely pacified watching cartoons on TV. Things were peaceful at the rail station.

But, all good things must come to an end – and, just like in a real hotel, they kick you out around 11:00 a.m. So, we got up, showered, packed the car and checked out. But, before we left we took advantage of some more free stuff that we got with our room and went to view the model railroad museum located on the hotel property.

The brochure said that the model railroad was valued at $1 million and has taken more than 50,000 hours to build and maintain. The railroad is 174 feet long and 33 feet wide at it’s widest point. It had over 3000 feet of track and there were four trains running on continuous loops while we were there. There were also push buttons to operate a downtown trolley and an incline railway.

There is just something about model railroads. I don’t know what it is, but I could stand and look at them all day long. And this one was exceptional. The attention to detail found in this display was breathtaking.

We spent about 30 minutes making the long trip down the room and back and marveling at the new things we discovered each way. They even had a miniature of the hotel there when it was a working depot. That was cool because it was an excellent opportunity for us to explain to the boys how passenger trains worked. They were fascinated.

We ate lunch at the dining room again and then hopped in the car and headed west across the great state of Tennessee. We drove mostly on Highway 64. The majority of the road was a scenic byway and we enjoyed watching the native hills, houses and livestock as we went. It would appear that the state is attempting to make this route a 4-lane highway all the way from Chattanooga to Memphis. There are several spots with brand new 4-lane and others where it is clear where the 4-lane is to go and still others that are being developed into 4-lane as we speak. This project occupied much of our discussion during the trip.

At Savannah, TN we stopped for a short break at the Shiloh National Military Park. We got to the visitor’s center just as it was closing, but got the map for the driving tour and did a hurry-up-and-look job around the museum.

This battle was a little more self explanatory. Basically, General Grant and his troops were headed to Corinth MS in an effort to take a strategic position there along the railroad in order to cut off the south’s northern rail supplies. He was to be reinforced before he took the city so he was camping in the Shiloh area and occupying a two mile stretch south of Pittsburg Landing on the Tennessee River. The confederates in Corinth learned of his plan and decided to attack him and his troops before he was reinforced.

They met the outlying post of soldiers at 4:55 a.m. on April 6 and fought a bloody, tough battle for the entire day. Federal troops were pushed back to a line just about 100 yards from Pittsburg landing where they massed and held the confederates for the remainder of the evening. The fighting stopped at dark.

As luck would have it, Grant was reinforced that evening with two additional platoons of soldiers, increasing his ranks to 50,000 men. The tired and diminished confederates, who were hoping to finish off the Federal troops the morning of the 7th, awoke to an overwhelming and fresh set of Federal troops that outnumbered their 35,000 ranks. They quickly gave up and were pushed back to Corinth.

The most interesting part of this battlefield was viewing the confederate burial trenches that are scattered about. This war saw 23,000 casualties – men that were killed, wounded or missing. To bury the confederate dead, General Grant created mass graves where he buried men 7 layers deep. There are memorials at each of these trenches.

These battles are so much in our distant past that it is difficult to imagine what went on so many years ago. It is moving to see the problems that can happen when people can’t use their words to resolve issues and instead use people like chess pieces on a political playing board. The brochures all talk about how both sides of the conflict felt that fighting would not be necessary and, if needed, would be over in 3 months. Obviously, they were wrong. And many, many people on both sides paid a significant price.

After the battlefield, we hopped back in the car and drove the last stretch to Memphis and our hotel. We are all tired from the road so we immediately went straight to bed.

Journal, Day 9

Our youngest is seven years old today. I had remembered to bring his presents along with us and had laid them out on the table before I went to bed. He got up, came in to our room to cuddle and didn’t even notice they were there until my husband said something when he got up.

He was so excited! We had nearly convinced him that he probably wouldn’t get presents until he got back home, so this morning’s bounty caught him completely by surprise. While he examined his new DS and TMNT game, we packed up ourselves and the car.

We said goodbye to the cabin and were on the road, headed to Chattanooga on Highway 74 by 9:00 a.m. On the road we passed several groups heading out to raft on the Nantahala River. The town and areas reminded us of the Big Cedar Lodge area around Branson. The river was also fun to watch and looked really inviting. It was difficult not to stop and wade.

At Lake Hiwassee we saw some impressive white water rafting. The groups started at the Hiwassee dam, shot a huge waterfall at the dam’s edge and then headed down river for several more rapid areas until the pull-out spot just prior to where the lake widens. It looked absolutely like the most fun thing in the world. My husband thought they were crazy and said he would never do that. So, I guess I will place my hope with my boys and pray that I will have someone to experience some white water rafting with someday.

After that it was a fairly uneventful drive to the Georgia Visitor’s Center on I-75. We ate lunch out of the cooler and grocery bag again and then headed to the Chickamauga & Chattanooga National Military Park. We stamped our National Park passport and grabbed the junior ranger book. (They don’t have a program for anyone less than 3rd grade so we opted to not do the activities at this time to keep the peace.) And then we toured the Visitor’s Center.

Now, I’m sure that if you are in to the civil war and all, this is a fascinating area and museum. The boys did enjoy walking through the gun and cannon display. And, there was one exhibit with a map and lights showing how the battle progressed and where the forces went. It looked a little like a video game and held the boys’ interest.

The Battle of Chickamauga began when the Union army took Chattanooga – a town that afforded the Federal army an extremely strategic position for supply lines to armies raiding into the deep south. The confederates attempted to regain Chattanooga and met the Federals at Chickamauga. General Rosecrans held them fairly well until the fighting got intense and there were some fatal communication errors.

At one point in the middle of the fighting, General Rosecrans thought that a gap had opened in the Federal line. In reality, he had received poor information. He did not verify the scout’s erroneous report. Instead, he sent orders to the regiment one section over to move and fill the gap. This action opened a real gap and gave the Conferederates a perfect spot to break the Federal line and win this particular battle.

They chased the Union army back to Chattanooga and spent the winter holding it under siege from nearby Lookout Mountain. General Grant didn’t just sit around and wait for things to happen. He attacked the Confederates on Lookout Mountain and routed them. Chattanooga remained in Federal hands and became an extremely important and valuable position as the Federal army marched to take over the Deep South.

Most of the exhibits required reading very much above the 8th grade level. Since we have two very important folks on our tour that are not even there yet, we breezed through the museum and went on to the auto tour. Unfortunately, I must say that this didn’t really get any better.

The boys were actually pretty disappointed. I don’t exactly know what they were expecting, but I think it was something like life-size wax figures poised around the battlefield in actual battle stances. High expectations, maybe? There was one very cool monument erected at the sight where General Rosecrans made his error in judgment and opened the gap in the Union line. It was an 85 foot high tower that you could climb to the top of. One of the people coming down said there were 136 steps. Having just walked 4.5 plus miles the day before, this seemed like chump change. And the view at the top was definitely worth it.

After the battlefield, we headed into town to check into our hotel. We stayed downtown at the Chattanooga Choo-Choo Convention Center hotel run by Holiday Inn. The hotel is a restored train depot and tracks in the center of downtown. They have restored and repurposed 37 passenger cars into hotel rooms decorated in the Victorian style. For a few hundred dollars, you can stay the night in one of them and get free tickets to the downtown Aquarium and IMAX theater. Another perk that we didn’t even realize we had was a free engineer’s hat from the gift store for each boy. How cool was that?

After we unpacked our stuff and checked out our really cool room (it was like sleeping in a museum), we headed for the downtown aquarium on the free, electric trolley system. The aquarium boasts that it is the largest, fresh-water aquarium in the United States. I believe it. It is a study of the flora and fauna in the Tennessee River Valley. You ride an escalator up to the very top where the river starts in the Smokey Mountains and you continue by walking down into lower levels of the museum as you descend downstream. Eventually, you end up in the Gulf of Mexico just like the real river does.

The whole thing was really great, but if we had to pick our favorite areas, we would probably pick and exhibit about turtles showing turtles from all over the world. There was a sturgeon touch pool that was really cool. There are two buildings to the aquarium – one on fresh water and one on animals of the ocean. This second building had a butterfly garden at the very top that was super cool and where we spent much time. It also had a touch pool.

I can say with some first-hand knowledge now that I would rather touch a sturgeon with my hands than a manta ray.

Once we had exhausted the museum’s, it was across the street to the IMAX where we watched a 3-D show on the Grand Canyon and Colorado River. It was a fabulous film about water conservation and the very critical problem that is occurring in the Southwest. There were some impressive pictures showing just how much of two lakes have been depleted due to excessive use of water. The movie, which is narrated by Robert Redford and (I’m sure) partly funded by Bobby Kennedy is definitely worth experiencing if it comes to your area.

After the movie, it was back to the Holiday Inn – where kids eat free! – a quick dip in the pool and then back to bed. What a full day! I fell asleep in bed watching a documentary on Carol Burnett and didn’t get around to posting this blog. For that, I apologize.

Journal Day 8

Our last day in Smokey Mountain National Park – and no pussy footing around…it was time to hike! We got up early and were at the park gates by 9:00 a.m. We headed up the 45 minute long drive to Clingman’s Dome – the highest point in the park.

Two things we noticed about this climb: 1) the air was chilly, and 2) the trail was steep. The walk to the top was a little dampened by the results of a Frasier fir eating aphid called the Balsom Wooly Adelgid. The insect came to the US on imported nursery stock in the 1950s from Europe. It has been eating the snot out of all the Frasier firs since. The rangers are concerned because this is one of the only places in the United States that the Frasier Fir appears in the wild. They are attempting to control its spread, but it is a tough job.

The devastation of this tiny, little bug was far-reaching. Thousands of bare trunks stuck up amongst living trees marring the landscape and creating and eerie mood. As we and some of our fellow hikers looked at the ravaging, one phrase from an earlier trail guide came to mind. “The only thing in a forest that is constant is change.” And so, though this may be sad right now, it is a blip in history. The future can hold much – the majority of which is unknown.

So, our hearts a little lighter for remembering that God is in charge, we headed back down Clingman’s Dome and on the way hiked another ¼ mile section of the Appalachian Trail. This part of the trail near Clingman’s Dome is narrow and rocky. We got lots of mountain kisses on our legs (dewy grass drying itself on our shins). And, we enjoyed meeting several hikers like ourselves. We also met two real, honest-to-goodness, bed-roll packing, in-it-for-the-whole-shebang hikers. The boys were impressed.

After we returned to the car, we finished the 8 page requirement in the Junior Ranger books and headed on back down to the Oconaluftee Visitor’s Center. The boys had to do 8 activities each, attend a ranger talk, pick up a bag full of trash and then get sworn in. To get our “Not So Junior Ranger” patch, we had to attend 3 ranger talks. We were not done with our job. So, we headed back to the Mountain Farm Museum to attend a presentation called “Batteries Not Included.”

This ranger led activity was really fun. The whole family enjoyed playing fox and geese, tops, corn darts, clothespins, a springy thing that I don’t know the name of, a wooden dancing man, marbles and stilts! Dad’s particular skill was with the fox and geese game, our youngest was a whiz with corn darts and our oldest gave several lessons on how to make the dancing man dance.

Mom, however, was declared the best all-around at stilts impressing several tourists and the ranger with my excellent stilt skills. Little did they know that I spent many childhood hours walking from the garage to the machine shed on my very own pair. Apparently, walking on stilts is like riding a bike – even I was surprised at how easily it all came back. I ended up holding kind of a stilt clinic right there teaching several other families the best grip hold and the easiest style of mounting.

After that, we ate a lunch of boiled eggs and headed into the ranger station to be sworn in. We got a really good ranger who looked carefully over all of the boys’ work in their books asking them questions while he looked. “What’s your favorite national park?” he asked. “Yellowstone,” the boys promptly answered. Not missing a beat he said, “That was the wrong answer, try again.” They got it right the second time.

Properly sworn and badged, we hopped into the car and drove to the Deep Creek campground to do some more hiking around two water falls found in that area. We ended up hiking about 4.5 miles of trails from about 2:00 to about 6:00 p.m. We hiked up the Deep Creek Trail and then joined with the Indian Creek Trail about halfway in and followed it down. We waded at the bottom of Indian Creek Falls – freezing water, but it felt excellent on the feet and shins after 3 miles of trail. We finished by watching the tubing along the bottom half of Indian Creek.

The tubing looked very fun, but we were most entertained by a tattooed woman getting out of the creek wet, smiling and exclaiming to anyone who would listen: “That is dangerous! I was wondering why everyone was walking back down with their tubes, but now I know why! They need to post danger sounds around here!”

Secretly, we thought she probably had a pretty good time.

We met some people on the trail. One family from Raleigh, NC waded with us at the falls and a mother, father and daughter were fly fishing up at the top of Deep Creek and followed us back down the trail. It was nice to have their company.

On the trail we saw several of the plants that we had learned about in the junior ranger books. One in particular is the tulip tree. The leaves of this tree look chopped off at the top – sort of like it forgot to grow in that part. We also are seeing Rosebay Rhododendron everywhere – even though there is a small family argument about whether or not to call it R.R. or Mountain Laurel.

After the trail, we were definitely ready to get back to the cabin and spend our last night enjoying it. We ate spaghetti for supper and then got into the hot tub to soak our sore muscles. It was incredible. We will miss our little cabin on the side of the mountain very much.

While we were soaking, we sat and watched a rather large spider gather her dinner for the evening and talked about the last few days. For my youngest, the best part was the nature trail where we discovered the remains of Nick McCarter’s cabin and explored John Ownsby’s cabin. For my oldest, it was the hike to the top of Clingman’s Dome to look around. For my husband, it was holding the honor of being one of the very first ever “Not So Junior Rangers” sworn in on the first year of the only National Park that has the program in place. For me, it was making the corn shuck doll and playing with the old fashioned toys.

We each enjoyed the Smokies in our own way. Tomorrow we turn west and for home.

Journal Day 7

We are officially halfway into our trip. If I had to put a label on today it would be “the day of doing whatever we wanted.”

This was created mostly because I think that the pace of our trip finally caught up with us. The alarm went off at 6:00 a.m., but neither my husband nor I could stomach getting up that early. The boys were even out until an unheard of 8:45. We lazed about the cabin until nearly noon.

After their breakfast, the boys played a little foosball, tried making spears out of their arrowheads, and explored outside while my husband and I read, did some laundry, and nibbled on breakfast. After that, we sat around the dining table and worked a little on the Junior Ranger books and then hopped in the car to head to the park.

When we got there, we picked up two “Not So Junior Ranger” pamphlets. This is a program for people from ages 13 to 130. We figured, why should the boys have all the fun? Then it was back to the Mountain Farm museum for a ranger led program called “Aw, Shucks.”

The program was a brief orientation to the importance of the corn plant for the mountain farm family. Corn was good as food because if you don’t crack it, it apparently never spoils. I did not know that. Because the area is so high in humidity other grains spoiled rather quickly and wouldn’t keep. Corn quickly became a mountain staple.

All pieces of the corn plant were useable and the ranger informed us briefly about what some of those uses were. And then, she started talking about the corn shuck. Apparently, the shuck is one of the most versatile parts of the corn plant. She showed us a rug, a chair seat and a mop made out of dried corn shucks. We then got our own shucks that had been soaked in water for about 3-5 minutes and sat down to make corn shuck dolls.

Now, you wouldn’t think that boys would be interested in making dolls, but this was the quietest ours had been almost the entire trip. They were enthralled. The ranger showed us how to make the dolls into boy dolls with legs and we now have two of them. On the way back to the car, my oldest decided that we could put a cape on his when we got home so that his could be a superhero. My youngest started trying to figure out how his could hold a lightsaber.

After that program, we headed up the Smokey Mountain Highway towards the Sugarland Visitor Center on the Tennessee side of the park. The road is tree-lined and beautiful with several pull-offs where you can get out of your car and walk a quiet little trail or peek over the edge of a rock wall for a fabulous view. There is one particular spot in the road called “The Loop.” This was really fun, because the road curves and loops under itself to get back down one of the mountains. The boys spent this part imagining they were on a rollercoaster. My husband was fighting motion sickness.

At the Sugerland Visitor Center, we went on a one mile long hike through the woods to view the homesteads of Nicholas McCarter and John Ownsby. We spent $1 for the guidebook at the entrance of the trail and were very happy that we did. The trail would not have been half as interesting without it.

The guide showed us how we could tell where a corn field had been by looking at the age and type of the trees growing in the area. The type of trees is determined by how much sun the area gets. When the pine trees grow to a point where most of the area is shaded (a process that takes several years), the type of trees that need full sun to grow give way to trees that fare better in the shade. The guide also explained that the change from open fields to forest also affects the types of birds and mammals that live in the area.

The McCarter home had all but disappeared. The trail went right across what would have been Mr. McCarter’s front porch had the house still have been there. All that remained was a pile of rocks where the chimney had been. Nick also had a boxwood in his front yard that was the biggest boxwood my husband and I had ever seen. It made the boxwoods in front of our house look kinda wimpy.

The trail continued on to the John Ownsby cabin. This cabin had been restored by the park rangers and sat as a testament to the people who called the Smokey Mountains their home. Between the Ownsby land and the McCarter land the guide pointed out the remains of a stone fence.

After this little hike, we headed back to the visitor’s center for another ranger talk on what it was like to be a kid in 1808. The ranger did a great job with a large group of kids, showing them pictures of what kids wore (boys would wear dresses because they were simpler to hand down to younger siblings) and what kinds of chores they did.

Because the doctor was sometimes a two-day horse ride from a mountain family’s home, the ranger also showed the kids some of the things that families would use for medicine and bandages. She played a human “memory” game by having six kids stand in front of the group. Three of the kids held modern day medicines (Band Aids, Tums and bug spray) and three held corresponding old day medicines (moss, a berry plant, and opossum oil). The six children had their backs turned to the group so that the audience could not see what they held. The rest of the kids had to match the old medicine to the new medicine by calling out the shirt color of the child that they wanted to turn around.

Then came the fun part! The ranger handed out the materials to make a Mountain “buzz” toy. The toy is basically made of a wooden cookie that had two holes bored in it to make it look like a two-inch round button and a piece of string. You thread the string through the two holes, tie a knot in the string and wah-lah – you’ve got a mountain buzz toy. We all made one of those. The ranger offered to the adults and my husband was the first brave soul who held his hand out. After that there were several parents who chimed in.

After we all got our journals and cards signed saying that we’d been there, we grabbed a snack for the road and headed home. On the way back, we stopped at a turnout on the Tennessee/North Carolina line called the Newfound Gap. It was also a spot to access the Appalachian Trial. Because we could and because we wanted to say that we had, we hiked about ¼ of a mile of the Appalachian Trail to see what we could see before heading back to the car.

The boys had gotten into a habit of asking us how long each trail we saw or walked on was. When I said that this one was 2,150 miles long, they were completely floored. “Are you kidding mom?” my oldest asked. “Not kidding,” I replied. “Wow,” was all he could say in return – shocked into silence.

Because we got such a late start, it was dark by the time we got back to the cabin. We grabbed what we needed out of the car and went to bed.

Journal Day 6

True to our word this morning, we slept in! We started this morning very lazy. I even got a little time on the couch with my book – just me and the birds outside.

After breakfast and getting around, we hopped in the car at around 10:00 a.m. and headed out to the Museum of the Cherokee and the Oconuluftee Indian Village. The museum did a good job of tracing the history of the Cherokee nation from its beginnings, through trade with the British, the Revolutionary War and the era of the Trail of Tears. The boys were most interested in the models of the Cherokee village and the talking exhibits.

The tour began with a 5 minute video of the Cherokee view of the beginning of the world. They told a story of a water beetle that helped to create the land out of mud from the bottom of the ocean. They also explained that the mountains in the land of the Cherokee were created by the great buzzard flapping his wings too close to the ground. From there, patrons wound around through exhibits on the history and ways of the Cherokee tribe. It was extremely well presented.

After that we headed further into the woods to tour the Oconuluftee Indian Village. This was a living history museum where we were lead through a series of stations of local tribesmen practicing their various crafts. Our Indian guide would describe what the person was doing, the tools that were being used and how the tools would have differed in the olden days.

There were stations on beadwork, basket weaving, canoe building, blow gun demonstrations, spear and arrowhead making and pottery. We also saw several examples of Cherokee homes as well as bear, fish and small animal traps. Finally, we were lead to the square grounds where the seven clans would gather to dance. And the tour ended at the Council house where the seven clans would gather to make decisions and govern themselves.

We probably enjoyed the final two things the most. John Walking Stick, an elderly gentleman spoke passionately about the Cherokee ways. He explained that unlike what most people think, Cherokee’s dancing was a way of praying to the Great Spirit for thanks and to ask for things that he wanted. The little gal in the Council House did a good job of explaining the political and justice system of the tribe. She also spoke several common phrases in the Cherokee language. And, it was from both of them that we learned that there is no word in the Cherokee language for “Goodbye.” This is because Cherokee’s always expect to see you again, either on earth or in the afterlife. So instead, they both said the Cherokee equivalent to “See you later.”

Following the Indian Village, we headed on up the mountain and into the Great Smokey Mountain National Park. We stopped first at Mingus Mill – an operating grist mill on the banks of Mingus Creek. The mill runs on a turbine system and was fired up and grinding corn when we got there. We hiked to the place where the water was diverted from the creek and into the wooden chute to eventually run the turbine. They had one grinding stone put together and working hard. The other they had taken apart so that you could see what it looked like on the inside.

Upstairs was a demonstration of the process of bolting flour to separate it into four types of quality (fine, middlins, bran, and I can’t remember the name of the final one). The sorted flour was routed through a chute back to the first floor where it was bagged for sale. The man working the mill explained that they only ground flour one day of the week. The other days were used for corn – a much easier and quicker process.

While we were there, he stopped the mill for a while to show us how the water would begin to overflow and spill over the side of the chute. There was a little boy playing beneath the chute when he stopped it. The man, who realized that he had Kansan’s in his midst said conspiratorially, “Watch this, that little boy is going to get wet.” Something tells me this man enjoys his job.

After the Mill, we returned to the Oconaluftee Visitor Center to stroll through the Mountain Hill Farm. The farm was comprised of relocated and restored buildings from the Davis farm. There was a house, meat house, outhouse, chicken coop, corn crib, apple shed, barn, and blacksmith shed. There was a full vegetable garden and large corn field. Each spot had a brief introduction to what the building was used for and how it was used.

There were also a couple of surprises. When we reached the barn, I smelled something that I haven’t had the pleasure of smelling for quite some time. Instantly I looked around and asked my husband, “Where’s the pigs?” And they were there! Penned over a little ways in the shade of the trees were two gilts rooting around in the mud. The smell took me straight back to childhood on the farm.

My oldest was enamored by the brood of chickens that called the Mountain Hill Farm home. There was a beautiful rooster, several hens and teenage chicks running around in and among the buildings. The farm was just a little way from the Oconaluftee River so we spent just a little bit playing in the shallow, rocky rapids before heading back to the car.

After that it was back to the cabin for dinner and a dip in the hot tub before calling it a day.

Journal Day 5

Since we had explored the longest cave in the world, we couldn’t pass up an opportunity to peek through the largest house in America. Built by George Vanderbilt, the 250-room Biltmore Mansion in Asheville North Carolina is a sight to behold.

I had been through it once before in 1992 with a girlfriend from high school. We motored through on our way to Charleston. It was amazing what 16 years will do to a place. My girlfriend and I went through on a guided tour with about 10 other people, heard stories about the Vanderbilt family, got to try out doorknobs and chairs and had no barrier access to the grounds and balconies outside the home. We only got to see the first, second and basement stories of the home and were too young to partake of the wine tasting at the Biltmore Winery. All of this experience was included in the price of admission.

In 2008, you walk in and for $8 you can get an MP3 player with a self-guided tour of the home. You follow the rest of humanity through the house looking at a map on a brochure that has numbers on each room that correspond to numbers that you type into your MP3. Then you would listen to a brief 2-3 minute commentary of the room that you were in trying not to unnecessarily crowd the people around or in front of you. For another $15 you can get special tours by reservation to see additional areas of the house with fewer people. And, if you want what my girlfriend and I got the last time we were there, you have to pay $150 per adult/$75 per child. And all of this is ON TOP of the regular admission to the grounds at the gate.

Despite the fleecing, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves as we walked through this home built by a person whose wealth we can’t even imagine. We all had our favorite parts. Our youngest was the tour Nazi, announcing which buttons to push on the MP3 player when we entered each room. He turned several heads and probably got some people to listen with us as authoritative and thorough as he was reading and following the map.

At one point, we were in the South Tower Room on the third floor – one of the many guest rooms in the house. Because he had his earphones on, my youngest did not realize that he was speaking rather loudly. He looked around at the room decorated in a subdued, neoclassical style of yellows, blues and pinks and announced, “This room looks like you are sleeping in a birthday cake!”

My favorite part was, of course, the house – but particularly the library. George was an avid reader and according to the auto tour was considered the most well-read man in America at the time. The have calculated that he read two books per week over his entire life-time. The library contains more than 10,000 books of his 23,000 book collection. The library was two stories high and stacked floor to ceiling with books, books and more books. I also love the grand staircase made of limestone that has no visible supports. In the middle of the staircase is a 1,700 pound chandelier held into place by a single bolt.

My husband was very impressed with the 72’ x 42’ x 70’ Banquet Hall. One end of the room is almost entirely covered with three side-by-side, walk-in fireplaces. The other end holds an organ loft and the center of the room contains an oak dining table that can extend to 40 feet. There are flags, banners, crests, hunting trophies, tapestries and huge, electric chandeliers. Cool room – and also the one that is featured on TV the most.

Our oldest enjoyed the gardens. He loved walking among the various gardens and took several photos of flowers, bees and greenery throughout the estate’s Italian Garden, Shrubbery Garden, Walled Garden and Conservatory. All the garden’s and the rest of the acreage surrounding the house were designed by Frederick Law Olmsted – the very same man who coined the term “landscape architecture” and who designed Central Park in New York City.

The entire family enjoyed the one “special” tour that we decided to take – the Rooftop Tour. The group on the 9:30 a.m. tour consisted of the four of us and a retired couple from Florida. On the tour we were able to go into some rooms that were not open to the general public on the tour and also were able to walk out on the rooftop balcony and several other balconies at the front and back of the house. We all patted the butt of a gargoyle on the front of the house for luck and looked at the view from outside of George’s bathroom. Tracy Ross, our tour guide, explained as we were looking out the back balcony that at one time, George owned every single piece of land that you could view from the balcony – including Mount Pisgah over 19 miles in the distance.

We also saw the attic and how the slate shingles were attached to the steel roof beams by what looked like copper bailing wire. We got a birds-eye view of the grand staircase and the front porch as well as some really great views out some fourth floor maid’s quarters windows. We went up and down some really weird, narrow staircases and in and out windows up around the rooftops. It was a really cool tour. If you are ever at Biltmore and you can only do one tour – this one is a terrific pick.

Tracy was a fantastic tour guide and instantly won over our youngest by making him the official “rope holder” when we would go through the barrier ropes to places not on the public tour – must be the freckles. We saw her later when we were touring on the audio tour and she caught the boys’ eyes and waved at them. She thanked us for visiting Biltmore so that she could keep the job that she thoroughly enjoyed. We were OK with that – she was good at her job.

After touring the house and gardens, we made our stop in the gift shop for our family Christmas ornament. We decided on a two-inch replica of the Vanderbilt china plate with the George’s initials in the center. Then it was on for a very short tour through the Winery, some wine tasting and home.

On the way back to the cabin we stopped at TGI Friday’s in Asheville for dinner and the Bryson City IGA for supplies and then called it an evening. Tomorrow, we have decided to sleep in!



George’s great-grandchildren are keeping the home and grounds alive and I’d say they are doing a fantastic job.

Journal Day 4

Apologies for the delay in posting. Took us awhile to get the Internet working in the cabin. To catch up, this is the Journal from Sunday.

Our final driving day for a while.

We began the day by worshiping with the members of the Highland United Methodist Church. The church wasn’t too far from the Mammoth Cave Park and had a small, mostly female congregation. In fact, besides us, there were only about three other guys present in the 30 or so member congregation. The boys didn’t want to go up for children’s time because there were way too many girls.

Pastor Donna Aros gave an excellent sermon on Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23. It is Jesus’ parable of the seeds and the soil. The message met my husband’s “requirements of a good sermon.” Pastor Donna focused on the parable’s image of God with his bag of seeds sowing his message of grace with great abandon. He is throwing it out there for all of us without care or consideration over where it lands. She went on to say that it is up to us to make sure that our soil is cultivated enough to hear the message of grace so that it will grow and spread. It was a message that was full of grace and Pastor Donna delivered it with great style.

The church family was also fun to observe. Because it was so small, people were extremely casual with one another and there was a lot of joking and laughing. Our presence in their midst seemed to make them a little nervous, but they managed it well. A couple of the women walked in late and were promptly teased by the rest of the ladies. The last person through the door also happened to be the pianist who swore on a stack of bibles that her watch, which was set by a GPS satellite, was right and the church’s clock was fast. Pastor Donna said fine, as long as she wouldn’t mind calling all the other people of the congregation next Sunday to make sure they knew the right time too.

We enjoyed our time among these smiling, warm, small church folk. The group sang “Wonderful Words of Life,” “In the Garden,” and “He Lives” from the United Methodist Hymnal a little off-key but with great gusto. Charles Wesley would have been proud. We heard announcements about a recent and very successful fundraiser as well as about an upcoming Vacation Bible School and canoe trip. Many people shook our hands and we received several warm smiles. It was a great start to the day.

After that it was back to Mammoth Cave hotel to pack up, check out and get back on the road. We were making some good time until we got on the Cumberland Parkway just outside of Glasgow, Kentucky.

I had settled into reading Fearless Fourteen by Janet Evanovich when suddenly I heard my husband gasp, slam on the breaks and felt him pull over to the side of the road. I looked up and saw what had caused his reaction. A car was in the grassy median of the road, clothing and mud strewn across the far west-bound lanes. It was completely upside down. We were the third car on the scene and I immediately grabbed the cell phone and the map, got out of the car and dialed 911. My husband told the boys to stay put and headed into the median to see what he could do to help. While we were stopped, two additional cars pulled over – one containing an off-duty nurse who immediately took over and organized everyone.

Apparently, a 60ish-year-old woman was driving east-bound heading to pick up her granddaughter at a nearby lake. Her tire blew out forcing her off the road. She hit the soft shoulder and her car did a bumper over grill somersault and landed on its top. She was thankfully wearing her seatbelt and – miracle of miracles – crawled out of the passenger side without her glasses but with only a small scratch on her ankle. She was disoriented and hurt and between the nurse and several other people she was given blankets and pillows to keep her warm and still.

We stayed until the ambulance from Glasgow showed up and then got in the car and continued down the road. I was unable to get back into my book for quite some time. The boys were also pretty shaken. The wreck occupied our conversation for the next several miles.

We ate lunch at Wendy’s in Somerset, Kentucky, headed on east to London to hook up with southbound I-75 which took us into Tennessee. About 20 miles outside of Knoxville, we ran into two lanes of slow moving traffic that looked to be backed up for at least 5-6 miles. When we finally got up to see what was causing the bottleneck, we noticed a semi truck pulled off the road, two police cars directing traffic and another small car in the median with a rear-end that was completely smashed in. There were no longer people at the scene of this wreck. It looked as if the two policemen were simply waiting on a clean-up crew to remove the vehicles and debris from off of the road.

I started to feel as if there were some cosmic forces at work and said a brief thank you prayer to God. Our delay with the first wreck could very well have saved us from being in the immediate area when this one happened. Maybe, maybe not, but my stomach felt a little uneasy for the remainder of the drive.

We headed east from Knoxville on I-40 and entered North Carolina for a beautiful drive skirting the Great Smokey Mountain National Park on the north side. It rained on us the entire way. The mountains truly lived up to their name and we saw a gorgeous rainbow outside of the Dillsboro Huddle Hut where we ate dinner. We drove on up to our cabin which is south and west of Bryson City, just up the mountain from Highway 28 north and could not believe our good fortune.

The cabin and its surroundings are beautiful. We have rented Bearfoot – one of the “value cabins” owned by Watershed Cabins here in North Carolina and we could not be more pleased. It is newly remodeled, contains everything a person could possibly want in a cabin INCLUDING a washer/dryer, two TV’s, a foosball table, an outdoor dining area, a grill, and a hot tub.

The boys were coming out of their skin they were so excited and we all took a dip in the hot tub before bed. I read the boys a chapter out of Harry Potter until all was quiet in the cabin and then set the alarm to get an early start for our day of adventure in Asheville tomorrow. All in all, it was a terrific way to end a long, mentally exhausting day.

Journal Day 3

Today, we got up at about 6:30 a.m. to prepare for a ½ day trip down the Green River. While Dad got ready for the day, the boys and I headed to the Travertine Restaurant to try their breakfast buffet. The boys stuffed themselves with French toast, sausage, biscuits and gravy and orange juice and I ate my absolute favorite ever breakfast – oatmeal, fruit and milk. A breakfast for champions – and we definitely needed it.

We swooped back by the room to pick up Dad and head back out to Cave City and the Green River Canoeing company where we would pick up our canoe and lifejackets. After signing the necessary paperwork that assured the company that we would not sue them if we all landed in the river and suffered bodily injury – we piled in the van and headed to the drop off point at Dennison Ferry.

Our canoe was a green, plastic three-seater. The company gave us two oars – one long and one short. The loading dock was twenty-five steps down some stairs and was just wide enough for one boat at a time. The driver took one look at the boating customers – a family of three with a 5-year-old girl; a nice couple, their grandparents and their two toddler children from Japan; a father/son team; and the family of four with two boys from Kansas – and loaded us in the water first.

The trip down river began like any other. Green trees, peaceful water, partly cloudy skies with plenty of shade and plenty of sunlight. My oldest was in the front with a paddle, I was in the middle seat with my youngest on a pad at my feet and Dad was holding up the rear. We floated the first couple of miles chatting about the nature that we saw, watching my youngest trailing leaves and his hands in the water and getting splashed occasionally by the wild paddler in the front of the boat.

At one turn, we smelled a little bit of nature taking care of its dead and dying at which point my youngest immediately removed his hands from the water. “That’s the last time I’m puttin’ my hands in that!” he announced with great conviction. Shortly thereafter, we got out of the canoe on a small island and walked around for a while. The pull of the water was too much and our six-year-old was soon back in the water, hands feet and body scrounging for living river clams to pick up, proclaim found, and return to the water.

We loaded back in the boat a little wetter than when we started and headed back down river thinking we would soon dry out. Shortly downstream we began to hear a low rumble. As we continued to paddle, a nice gentle rain began. “Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head,” I sang. Then, we looked ahead. “Look at that,” my husband said calmly. “A wall of rain, heading our way.” And it sure was.

We paddled to a steep, muddy shoreline and took shelter under an overhanging tree for the slightly more than gentle rainstorm. The tree managed to keep us and the canoe dry. “Should we start out?” asked my husband. After tuning in to the sound of the storm, I suggested that we stay put for just a little longer. We were glad that we did.

Here came the next pass – but this time it was a little more than a rainstorm. The skies opened and completely drenched us. We were slightly sheltered under the tree, but the rain was too heavy and coming too fast for the leaves to hold. Now, not only were we dealing with the rain, but we had two boys that were more than a little freaked out by being outside, with no roof over their heads, and caught smack dab in the middle of a storm that most like to view from their windows. We also had a canoe that was beginning to fill with a little water.

Out of the canoe we came. We scrambled up the muddy bank as much as we could. I was completely occupied calming a very frightened six-year-old and my oldest was pulling it together to help his dad tip the canoe over to dump the water and keep more water from pooling in the bottom.

After a while in this very precarious position, it became apparent that the weather under the tree was worse than the weather outside of it. So, we tipped the canoe back over and headed out again – with one small change. “Mom, you paddle,” came the request from the two boys. “Let’s just get back to the hotel.” And, so, with only six miles further to go, mom and dad paddled the canoe back out into the overcast skies.

As it turned out, we only had to seek shelter one more time – during which Dad maneuvered the canoe under a low hanging, muddy branch that quickly deposited a softball size clump of mud onto the top of my head. The boys of course thought this was hilarious – and it did help to lighten the tension coming from our youngest son. So, mom took one for the team.

This next rain shower was short lived and we were able to push back downstream fairly quickly. It is amazing how such an adventure can bond complete strangers together. For the remainder of the trip we ended up passing several folks who had pulled over to attempt to dry out just a bit. We felt somehow closer to these kindred river spirits and they to us. We waved. We passed greetings back and forth. And, we laughed together. One elderly gentleman summed it up by saying as we passed, “Did you run into a little rain back there?”

On this final section of the river, we held some deep, family discussions about “That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” We marveled at a deer eating leaves close by the shore. And, we sang “The Bear Song.” When it ended, we were ready to be done.

After docking at the Green River Ferry takeout and storing our canoe, oars and lifejackets for pickup, we headed back to the hotel for lunch and a much needed shower. We relaxed for just a few minutes until it was time for our cave tour in the afternoon.

Mammoth Cave is the world’s longest known cave and has 15 options of tours ranging from an extremely easy, self guided nature hike around the historic entrance of the cave to a six and ½ hour crawling, belly sliding, wall climbing, honest-to-goodness spelunking experience.

The Kansas Hicks’ chose the River Styx tour – one that focuses on how the cave was formed by the forces of water. Our tour took us to the very bottom of the cave (360 feet or a little more than the length of a football field) and up and down 497 stairs. At the bottom, we saw the Dead Sea, the River Styx and the Echo River – tributaries of the Green River and the very same rivers that are continuing to form the cave passages and shafts that we were exploring.

There were several highlights on the tour – not the least of which was the bathroom stop halfway through. The boys were absolutely impressed with the fact that the bathroom ceiling was rock from the cave. We also saw a cave cricket. The park ranger bringing up the rear said it was a female and shone her flashlight on it so that she could show the boys just how she could tell that marvelous piece of information. We also stopped in the very same spot where Ralph Waldo Emerson penned some lines of poetry describing his experience. Our tour guide read the stanzas that referred to the places where we were standing and looking.

When we returned to the surface, we finished our junior ranger papers, got our stamp in our national park passport book, heard the boys’ successful completion announced over the loud speaker, got their badges, and headed to eat while our bodies acclimated to being above ground in the more heated, humid environment.

After dinner, we walked off the incredible meal by walking around the park grounds for a while and then returned to our room for bed. What an incredible day. What an incredible park. And we haven’t even scratched the surface.

Vacation Journal Day 2

Another day of driving. And this one felt like it. The Hicks family has been cooped up in a car too long.

We woke fairly early this morning and grabbed breakfast at the hotel. We headed east on Highway 60 to the convergence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. We crossed two tall bridges and the boys were thrilled to discover a tugboat pushing barges strapped 3 wide and 6 deep.

Then it was meandering back roads through Kentucky until we reached our first pit stop at Paducah’s visitor center on the grounds of Whitehaven. We weren’t able to tour the antebellum home as tours didn’t begin until the afternoon, but we did eat our snack on the gracious benches outside the back door. What a deal.

Then it was on east to more Interstate driving. We drove past the Kentucky and Cumberland Dams. These dams were interesting to drive over because of the lock system that both contained. The boys were reminded of Grandpa’s recent explanation of the lock system through the Panama Canal. This was an opportunity to see a lock up close and personal.

And then we drove. And we drove. And we drove some more. And this time, the boys were not tired. They did not nap. It was brutal. Our lunch stop wasn’t even very interesting. It was a roadside service station parked on an asphalt and cement oasis in the middle of the divided highway. Definitely nothing to write home about.

After four long hours on the road, we reached Hodgenville, Kentucky and the Abraham Lincoln Birthplace on Sinking Spring Farm. This probably would have been a pretty neat experience had we not just finished a 6 hour drive.

The boys, who were extremely cranky, wanted to do the junior ranger program – but didn’t want to take the time to do the work required. This created several heated discussions about making decisions and, once made, committing to a task.

We attempted to lighten the mood by going on one of the shorter hikes around the park. A little time among God’s creation – we spotted several gray squirrels and paused to watch a small woodpecker – worked some of its magic. Because of the hike, the boys were able to relax and learn a few things.

For example, my oldest was surprised to learn the Association that created the park had among it’s membership several famous Americans: Samuel Clemons (a.k.a. Mark Twain) and President Taft just to name two. We had fun counting the penny display in the visitor center lobby. Using some third grade math skills, my oldest and I estimated it contained around 14,000 pennies. We also learned interesting things about how Abraham Lincoln grew up, how many brothers and sisters he had and that the Holy Bible was the first book that little Abe ever saw (it was on display). We learned that on February 12, 2009 the nation will celebrate the 200th anniversary of the birth of our 16th President.

Outside of the visitor’s center, we enjoyed going to the bottom of the sinking spring. There was a noticeable, and much needed, drop in temperature on the way down. We sat at the bottom of this little area for about 10 minutes doing some of the junior ranger paperwork until we were chased out by another family. We also climbed the 56 steps (one for each year of Lincoln’s life) to the Memorial where a symbolic replica of the original Lincoln home is protected inside a granite memorial building. The building was created by the same man who did the Jefferson Memorial and the National Archives and looks very much like the architecture of the D.C. located Lincoln Memorial.

We did the final crossword, sent dad and our youngest on a mission to find the answer the final question by the spring and the boys went to the ranger station to get their official, plastic, junior ranger badge. The ranger was a good guy and did a good job getting the boys to laugh and smile.

And then, we were off -- again. After a short stop at Lincoln’s childhood home at Knob Creek – and the place of his earliest memories, we turned south to Mammoth Cave.

We ate dinner at tourist trap central in Cave City and headed on into the park to our hotel. A long day ended in Room number 159 facing the woods. We have a small balcony with a couple of chairs facing a quiet, dark peaceful wood. The room is serviceable, much like last night’s except with the addition of a much needed refrigerator. As I write, the boys are in bed and we are quietly watching the weather channel on TV.

I believe that we are all thankful that we will be doing lots of things tomorrow – but one of them will NOT be driving.

Today was a driving day. We left Winfield at about 8:45 a.m. and headed east through Dexter to hook up with Highway 166 which we drove on for the remainder of our stay in Kansas. We drove through Coffeyville and got to see the flood damage from last year first-hand. It appears that the cleanup is progressing and there is quite a lot of new construction on the west side of town – above the flood line.

Our first stop was in Chetopa – the catfish and pecan capital of Kansas. The car needed some food ($3.99 per gallon), and so did the boys. We snacked on beef jerky, apples, plums and water on the banks of the Neosho River.

After our snack, we got back in the car and headed to I-44 and Missouri. On the very edge of Kansas the empty skyline was interrupted by a tall, pink 15-20 story tall hotel. Turns out it was the brand new Downstream Casino and Resort run by the Quapaw Tribe. It was by far the most unusual sight of the day.

We hit Springfield, Missouri at lunch time and stopped at Nathaniel Greene Park in the middle of town (just a few blocks west of the Bass Pro Shop). This is an out-of-the way park that has several gardens managed by the Botanical Society of Southwest Missouri. After sandwiches, we paid a small admission fee ($3 per adult) and toured the 7.5 acre Mizumoto Japanese Stroll Garden.

Springfield’s Sister City – Isesaki, Japan – assisted with the development of the park which was started in 1985. The garden uses stepping stones, lanterns and a very cool tea hut as decorative elements. The tea hut reminded the boys of the Kung Fu Panda movie which instantly threw them into reenactments of several of the karate moves from the movie. The garden surrounds several ponds and islands and uses what is called the “hide and reveal” concept that hides pieces of the garden from view until you round the next curve on the path.

Needless to say, we had a blast discovering the many hidden aspects of the garden. Of particular note was a rock pathway across one of the ponds to a grassy island in the middle. The five, rock stepping stones were approximately two feet in diameter and spaced one foot apart. The water was very deep around them so getting out to the island felt very much like we were taking part in an Indiana Jones blockbuster. On another side of the pond, our six-year-old discovered a small, wooden fishing dock tucked in amongst some trees and cattails – very, very cool. If you are ever in Springfield, you need to look it up.

After this successful lunch break, we jumped back in the car, beating a rainstorm by about 30 seconds, and transferred to Highway 60 to continue east across Missouri. We got as far as Van Buren before feeling the urge to get out of the car again for a snack. (It was about the time the boys woke up from a blissfully peaceful nap.)

The town of Van Buren holds a public access ramp to the lazy Current River which meanders its way through the Ozarks from headwaters in Dent County to the southern Missouri border and on south. We got out of the car to eat a snack and watched several vacationers float by on canoes and inner tubes. Nearby, was a pebble beach with a party of beer guzzling natives entrenched upon it – we stayed away from that area.

It was easy to see why the spot was so popular. The water was the clearest that we had seen in a while – a stark contrast to the muddy Neosho. It looked so good that we cut our stop short so we didn’t have to haul two boys from Kansas out from the rocky regions near the shoreline. They were not happy with us.

And so it was on to our first location for the evening – the Super 8 at Poplar Bluff. We got there at about 5:30 p.m. Not too fancy, but serviceable and quiet. We went out to eat at the 5 Star China Buffet. Kids buffets were $1 and there were endless amounts of food.

We all tried something that we had never eaten before. My husband choked down some sushi and a baked mussel. (This is the same man who’s idea of going to a fancy seafood restaurant is eating the shrimp & fish platter at Long John Silvers. I told him that I was proud of him for trying something new.) I also had sushi for the very first time. (Loved it – and unlike the person beside me – I did not entertain the table with funny faces while chewing and swallowing.) Our youngest tried sushi and, on a dare from his older brother, seaweed. Our oldest ate sea weed for the first time. Two of us will probably continue eating what we tried. The other two – not so much.

Most of the day was overcast and marked by low hanging rain clouds. The rain was intermittent and seemed to stop for us just long enough for us to take our breaks. It was a good day, we ended it with a very peaceful evening at the hotel.

Yoda

Tomorrow’s departure for vacation was somewhat dampened by tragedy tonight. On my way back to work from lunch, I received a call from the sitter, “Uhh, we have a situation here.”

It turns out that God decided to call our good old friend Yoda, the pet hamster, back home. My oldest son had gone upstairs to clean out Yoda’s cage before taking him to our hamster sitter. He discovered Yoda’s body shortly after I left the house.

Yoda lived to a ripe, old 2.5 years. He was curious. He was friendly. He loved to be held cupped between your two hands with his head sticking out between your thumbs and index fingers. He loved exploring the dark corners of the house in his hamster ball. He loved to eat fresh peas and corn, scurrying to the top of his cage whenever either one entered the room.

Yoda lay in state in a shoe box in our living room for the remainder of the afternoon. My son had fashioned a cushy bed out of some toilet paper with a cotton ball pillow. When we got home from work we held a brief service in the back yard. We read from Psalms 50:10-11 and Psalms 136:25. We each said a few words about Yoda. We wished him well in the afterlife. We said a short prayer thanking God for allowing us to take care of him while he walked the earth. We laid him in the ground.

Now, in our backyard flower garden, behind the day lilies and not too far from the sound of the waterfall is a small mound of dirt. My husband helped my son fashion a grave marker for Yoda out of a 1 by 4. It says, “Yoda, a happy pet,” on the front and the year of his birth and death on the back. A small bouquet of pink tulips decorates the humble grave.

We will miss him.

“For all the animals of the forest are mine, and I own the cattle on a thousand hills. Every bird of the mountains and all the animals of the field belong to me.” Psalm 50:10-11

Vacation Pre-Game

Vacation Journal – PreGame

Did I tell you we are going on vacation? I am sooooooooo excited. I’ve been excited for a year now. I almost have as much fun planning for the vacation as I do going on the vacation itself! My itinerary is done. Roads and stops are calculated and marked. Reservations – where necessary – are made. Tickets are bought. Car is confirmed. Look out Smoky Mountains, here we come!

Three days and counting:
I’ve charged the boys with thinking about what they want to take in the car for entertainment. We’ve narrowed it down to their electronic, handheld game systems, DVD player, three movies a piece and a good book. My youngest also wants to take his coloring books and markers. My oldest wants to take his art set and sketch paper. Done.

I just talked my husband down from the purchase of a new suitcase just for the novelty of it. (See previous post about WALL E.) Have clarified that we will need two suitcases for the boys and one big one for the hubby and I. We will probably also take a smaller one for the trip down and back so we can leave the big one in the car.

I learned my lesson on taking tons of food to Yellowstone. I’ve located a grocery store near our cabin and we’ll stop there on the first day. For the trip down, I’m taking enough snack food and water for four days and packing a lunch and dinner for the first day.

The state books and maps are stowed in a bag. I’m working on my entertainment bag. I checked out three books from the library and bought the latest Janet Evanovitch. I ran across mom’s knitting bag that she always took on trips. My oldest wants me to finish the Steelers scarf that I started for him to teach myself how to crochet. I’ve made my list and I’m checking it twice. Three days to go.

Two days and counting:
Worked all day to get ready for the auditors. They will be showing up a couple of days after I return. Had a couple of meetings too. Tonight is 4-H. Fair entries are due this week so we’ve got to get those handed in for both boys. My oldest will be entering a photograph and a drawing this year. My youngest is making a blankie replacement for the one we lost at DisneyWorld.

One day and counting:
Today is laundry day. Laundry, laundry, laundry. More and more laundry. I had no idea how much laundry boys can produce….but they can really produce it, let me tell you. Tonight is church council. We have a new pastor and this will be the first time that I get a chance to really meet him. The boys are getting their football gear for fall while I’m at the meeting.

Done with counting, vacation begins tomorrow!
Today I picked up the car at Enterprise. We will be representin’ in a black Ford Edge. The gauge on the dash says that it gets about 23 miles to the gallon in town. Hopefully we can do better on the highway. Went to the grocery store to pick up the food. Stopped by Walmart for tic-tacs and gum. Tonight we packed, packed and packed and packed again.

WALL E

Irony. Definition: 1) Humor based on opposites, 2) something humorous based on contradiction, 3) incongruity

We just saw WALL E Fantastic movie, everyone should watch it – an honest to goodness, against all odds, unlikely, underdog kind of everyman hero movie. I laughed, I cried. The boys had a great time. I was glad we spent the $18 after the short cartoon about the fight between the prestidigitator and his bunny. Pixar has done it again. They rock.

And, the movie definitely had a message. You have to be pretty dim to not be slapped sideways on the face with a futuristic – but not all that far-fetched – kind of vision of the future. How scary. A future where earth is so trashed, we make it inhabitable. We have to evacuate and leave the clean up to WALL E robots. And then we become a race of blobs totally absorbed in electronic worlds – so absorbed we loose touch with our surroundings. Living our whole life on a spaceship and not even noticing that it has a pool, constantly sucking dessert through a straw.

As luck would have it, this time we didn’t have time to stop at the refreshment counter to get our normal gob of candy, popcorn and soda before the movie. When the lights came up in the theater, I was able to walk out with some of my dignity intact.

I noticed every single piece of trash on the road back home. I drove by Walmart and thought of all the ridiculous, unnecessary “stuff” that comes back to our house from that location. I stopped myself from saying “no” on principle to a Sonic stop for a sundae for the boys – calculating just how much exercise that they had gotten in the past couple of days. When the treat came, I was relieved to see it was served in recyclable plastic as opposed to the normal Styrofoam that comes out of those doors.

And then I looked at the dash of the car. Sitting there, larger than life was a blue, plastic, “WALL E” watch that both boys got on the way into the theater. “A gift,” the lady behind the counter said. “Thank Disney.”

My oldest was trying to set his to the right time – couldn’t get it to work. “This is a piece of junk,” he said. “Look mom, it’s made in China.”

Did they do it on purpose? I wonder…..

Fire Cracker

“Mom, last night was a blast!” said my son as we were driving this morning.

Last night was July 4, 2008. My son and I were headed to Humboldt to set up for a family reunion dinner. We had spent the night before at my aunt and uncle’s farm where he and his brother got to shoot fireworks – real fireworks – for the first time.

My oldest son has had an uneasy relationship with fireworks. He spent the first five years of his life watching our hometown’s celebration from the cab of our truck with his hands over his ears. They were bright. They were loud. He wanted no part of them.

But that was then. Now, he is 10 years old and experienced in the ways of the world. He’d just spent three days at 4-H camp where he fought caterpillars; did KP duty; even danced with a girl. He was ready.

And, to be honest, isn’t shooting off your own personal fireworks on the 4th of July some kind of rite of passage? Really, a person has not truly experienced Independence Day until you’ve felt the adrenalin rush as you run from the spitting fuse of a freshly lit firecracker.

From a purely parental and fiduciary responsible position, shooting off fireworks is really stupid. You spend way too much money purchasing gunpowder dressed up in cardboard tubes with names like “Golden Flower,” “Armageddon,” and “The Hulk.” You wait, until things are really good and dark so that you cannot properly see. And then, surrounded by excited children armed with slow burning sticks, you light fire to these creations and watch the money that you spent blow up into light, smoke and noise.

I wonder, is there a reason they call the sticks “punks?”

But, you do it anyway. You do it because of the light in your child’s eye that has nothing to do with the fire or the evening light. You do it because you remember what it felt like to be 10 on a warm summer night hanging with your family in the starlight. You do it because the next day, you get to drive in the car with your son and hear him say with sincerity that embraces your heart, “Mom, last night was a blast!”