Amberlee Turns 3

A few weeks ago, our youngest turned 3 years old.  This is significant because it also represents the number of years we've been in Pennsylvania.  I left for PA when she was just a couple weeks old, and she moved here with the family on a permanent basis when she was just a bit over a month old.

She's changed a lot...

Before--

After--

Diversity Day, Amish Fraud, and a Deceitful Zoo

It was a whirlwind day today.  I learned that the weather today was supposed to be good, so a couple days ago, I announced plans to visit the Pittsburgh Zoo.  My hope was that it would be a family activity, but only half of the family showed up.

Starting at roughly 10AM today, I took Ethan, Preston, and Amberlee to Soergel's Orchard in Wexford (http://www.soergels.com/).  Chrissa was not going to go to the zoo (how childish), and Michelle wanted some time away from the kids.  But, in the 3 years I've been here, I've never stopped by the orchard.  Michelle and the kids have, though.  Our mission: to find the perfect pumpkins that we could carve up, chop up, mark up, etc, and leave out on our step until they became a moldy mess.  We were able to find just the right ones, but it took real will-power to resist the fresh apple cider, apple cider donuts, apple cider funnel cakes, apple cider this, apple cider that... not to mention the BBQ, hot dogs, and other delectable grub.

From the orchard, we took off to the zoo, only to find out that, as we entered the parking lot, all the kids were in Halloween costumes.  Ugh... my well laid plans were suddenly at the mercy of a bunch of kids dressed as Super Heroes.  Reason: Ethan never goes to things out-of-place, and as if on cue, he began to pout that HE was not dressed up, too.  And, to make it worse, they all had trick-or-treat bags ready to be filled.

Yep, it was ZooBoo Day at the Pittsburgh zoo, and my kids arrived without a costume.  Clearly, I had missed the memo.

But, we entered anyway, thankful to the zoo employees handing out free bags to the kids (and parents) dopey enough to miss the notification of the zoo's biggest day of the fall.  Oops.

We grow 'em big in PA... this monster was 1250 lbs.

Before we went in, though, I had a small run-in with the ticket lady.  Last season, we purchased season passes, which came with 4 free "guest passes" that could be used at any time... or so we were told.  I presented them to the ticket lady, which she promptly took, and then proceeded to tell me that the zoo was no longer honoring them.  Eh... what?  We exchanged words... mine mostly dealt with the personal belief that the zoo took us for a ride to get us to buy last season's passes, only to NOT honor the free passes that came with the deal.  I didn't know what her responses were... didn't really listen or care.  Secondly, she asked the age of all the kids.  I said: Ethan is 8, Preston is 5, and Ambie is 2.

Her: "Is she 24 months or older?"
Me:  "What do you mean?"
Her: "If she is older than 24 months, she gets charged the kid prices ($12!)."
Me: "She's 2."
Her: "I need to know if she's 24 months old or older, sir."
Me: "She is 2, and that is all you are going to get.  If you are now starting to ask for how many MONTHS our kids are, maybe we'll just go to the museum next time.  They don't ask there."
Her: "Alright... one adult, 2 kids... have a nice day."

And so, we went in.  Hey, I figured if I got screwed out of the free passes, they can get screwed out of one of the not-free passes.  Not an Even-Steven situation, but I felt better afterwards.

The zoo was your typical place of relative diversity... all kinds of species, both native and exotic, some scary and gross, some that should stay burrowed in their homes, some that looked like they'd be dragged through the dirt, others that looked like they'd been pampered since birth.  And, the animals were fun to look at, too.

Either gorillas, or a photo of a typical Pittsburgh street curb. 

But, a couple weeks back, Ethan decided to enter a school contest (these contests are really ruining my home life... see prior blogs on the kitchen contest) where he'd enter an exhibit that he put together that shows others what diversity means to him.  My sneaking suspicion is that "diversity" in this context means diversity of people.  I'm tired of that.  So, I "encouraged" him to focus on the diversity of animal life while at the zoo.  He took photos of animals... some out of focus, some blinded by the flash, some with half their bodies out of the picture.  We did get some good photos, though.

Not to be outdone by our counterparts in the other categories of our animal kingdom, the people visiting the zoo were hysterical, too.  And, weird.  Example: we watched the polar bear play with a large blue plastic barrel while swimming in his pool.  He was having a great time.  The lady behind me, however, was seeing something totally different than I was.  Being the good, tree-hugging mom that she was, she told her daughter, who was probably 5 years old: "Look!  The polar bear has learned how to recycle!"  Isn't that nice?  The mere act of playing with a discarded barrel shows that even at an elementary level of animal phyla, we can all still learn the valuable, Earth-saving lessons of post-consumer reclamation.  How nice.  And, to think that I thought the bear was just playing with a piece of garbage...

The Recycling Bear, apparently...

Also, Preston, on our way out, said that his favorite animal was the chicken.  Huh?  I told him that there were no chickens in the zoo.  "Yes sir, dad... it was the chicken that we could shoot for Thanksgiving."  Ah, it was the TURKEY.  But... did I really pay $35 to get these kids in for the purpose of seeing their favorite animal: the elusive wild turkey?  They only run wild through Pennsylvania in flocks... drive enough, and you'll likely run one over.

Thought this was a good pic of the boys in the polar bear exhibit, till I noticed the girl in red on the right.
What's she pickin'?

And so, the day of diversity was done.  Almost.  The last note of fun was the Amish family that was entering the zoo just as we were leaving.  Being late in the day, their horse must have gotten tired on the trip, causing their tardiness.  Regardless, however, they were there... the kids without shoes, the men in straw hats, the women in their traditional blue and black full length dresses.  Clearly, they were not orthodox, though... simply being at the zoo seemed to tell me that they weren't as isolated from the world as traditional Amish tend to be.  But, as we were leaving, proof of an Amish conspiracy made itself plainly clear to me.  Old Man Amish, who had to be the grandfather, was sitting on a motorized Rascal, ready to tear through the zoo on 6 volts of horsepower.  And, this guy was heavy... at least 350 lbs.  Call me a conspiracy theorist, but... an Amish family, at the zoo, one of them on a motorized scooter?  Uh... no.

While leaving the zoo and thinking about the Amish family, I had to reflect on one particular "candy table" up near the polar bear pond.  Whereas most vendors were handing out candy to the kids (except for the hippies passing out BOTTLED WATER AS A HALLOWEEN TREAT), one guy with world peace on his mind was handing out CFL bulbs.  You know... the curly-cue type that are supposed to last a thousand years and save you a million dollars.  Yeah, what a treat, eh?  I wonder now... did the Amish guy take one?  That'd be the smoking gun of an Amish conspiracy to me: the acceptance of a modern day CFL light bulb.

See our photo slideshow on the right.

Our Love for Streptococcus pneumoniae

I got the flu a couple weeks back, followed by "assumed" pneumonia. I say "assumed" because the doctor couldn't be sure I had it based on my chest x-ray. I couldn't inhale deep enough for a good picture. So, considering this and the black spot on or in my lung, we all assumed I had it. At any rate, I did have "acute bacterial bronchitis", which totally stunk by itself.

I went on an antibiotic binge. It worked, for the most part, but I was out of work for a week. Nice to have some time off, but I would prefer doing something where I could freely breathe and not feel as if I were pressed under a Kenworth. Incidentally, I have new respect for asthma sufferers.

Before I could declare victory over the Streptococcus pneumoniae, or Staphylococcus aureus, or whatever it was that had invaded me, I had given it to Ethan, so he came down with pneumonia as well. His was confirmed pneumonia... lucky guy.

So, he went on an antibiotic binge, too. After being out of school for a week, he was cured and is now back to school.

Next, Amberlee. She's been in to the doc, but no confirmation of pneumonia. We are being a bit more proactive with this one... she's on her antibiotic binge as we speak. Only problem is that she has very acute taste buds and can sense minuscule traces of bubble gum flavoring anywhere (the antibiotics are bubble gum flavored), so we have to force it in to her.

I think the old saying, "You can bring a horse to water, but you can't make him drink" would have more meaning if it said, "You can bring medicine to your kid, but you can't make him/her take it without several minutes of tag-team wrestling, hog-tying, and useless bribery."

Her doctor was a total jerk. While trying to get her temperature (which was an under-the-tongue type), Amberlee did her best impersonation of me or her mom and refused to cooperate. The doctor simply said to me, "If you can't get her to put this in her mouth, we have to take her temperature rectally." I about coughed... "Really? Are you kidding?" Doctor: "Nope", and he just stood there waiting on me, as if I could magically convince my 2 year old that she should allow this guy to put a metal probe in her mouth (or elsewhere, as he claimed). I said, "If she won't put that thing in her mouth, what makes you think she is going to lay there and let you put it in the other end? And, are you seriously telling me that with all the latest temperature gadgets out there-- forehead, under-the-arm, and even infrared stuff-- that the only option you have in this so-called medical office is orally or rectally?" Doctor: "Yep." I said we'd need to go elsewhere, then, and he left the room-- when a female doctor came in. She obviously knew kids, and sure enough... Ambie got her temperature taken under her arm.

What a doofus. Proof positive that you can be educated out the ying-yang, and still be a dopey bozo.

Sorry to anyone that disagrees, but most men should not be family physicians. We tend to see everything as if we were looking under the hood to replace a set of spark plugs, or see everything as a nail needing a hammer.

Anyhow, she's on the mend, hopefully.

We have a love for these little pests-- those that invade and cause havoc on an otherwise healthy system. They've tried half of us so far, and so far, they've lost. Good luck to the other half.

A Pirates Life

Amberlee wanted to play "pirates" with her brother Preston and his best friend Luke, who lives next door.  But, she had trouble deciding which eye should get the eye patch.  So, she compromised...

Cal-Amberlee Jane & Preston The Kid

CAL-AMBERLEE JANE & PRESTON THE KID

Retired gunslinger Cal-Amberlee Jane (Amberlee Jensen) reluctantly takes one last job -- and even more reluctantly accepts a boastful young cowboy, Preston "The Kid" (Preston Jensen) as a partner. Together, they learn how easily complicated truths are distorted into simplistic myths about the Old West, especially when one wears a tutu.  Cal-Amberlee Jane with Preston "The Kid" (both won Oscars) and Cletus Beaker stand out as old foes who have an unhappy reunion. The film also earned Oscars for Best Picture and Best Director (Cade Jensen).

LIVE AT THE GARDEN!

We always knew Amberlee had talent!

For one night only at The Garden, catch Amberlee singing "CIRCLE OF LIFE" with Elton John!

We thought the glasses would be her ticket to stardom.

Pennsylvania Wildlife

Most people I know that live back in my home state believe Pennsylvania is overcrowded with no room for anything but houses, people, and shopping malls.

Au contriare.  PA has farms, wildlife, forests, and the like.  Here are just a few examples.

Here we have the American Toad (I'm referring to the small green thing in Chrissa's hands... not my kids).  We found this beefy thing in our flowerbeds as we were trying to clean them out and ready them for mulch.

Here we have a closeup of the toad with Preston doing his best impersonation of it.

Here we have the Snotty Toddler.  This animal is easily spotted by its constant runny nose and high-pitched scream.

Note: the above photo was taken at a local dairy, where the kids took a tour of the operations.  Now, all of you Idaho folks, try to remain calm as I continue with my presentation...

Here, we have the Holstein Cow, the largest milk producer in the US (background), and Preston-- the largest consumer of milk in the US (foreground).  Preston was confident he could work in this dairy, though his mom didn't let him.

He also knew the nuances of raising a calf, which he was carefully overseeing.

Now these two characters can easily be mistaken for something sweet, harmless, and lovable.  In reality, they can be as loud as a hyena, as smelly as a skunk, as mean as a rattlesnake, and as nasty as a silverback gorilla.  Rumor has it that they eat fruits and vegetables, but we wouldn't know... we've found that as long as chocolate, ice cream, root beer, and cereal is thrown at them, they remain fairly stable.  However, they can turn on you in a heartbeat.

Our Life in Graphs

How long does it take for Amberlee to fall asleep? 

A Family Sociological Experiment

We are a family of musical geniuses.  Obviously.  But, what I was interested in is whether, given the choice of reacting to Lady Gaga music or playing the Wii, which one our kids would choose. 

Christmas 2010



New Christmas Pajamas



As I'm sure is true for all of you, it was a hectic few weeks prior to Christmas and, all of a sudden, it was over.  Now what?


We had a great day, though.  All the fun started the night before.  Honestly, it is getting harder and harder to justify the existence of a Santa Claus for our 8-year-old.  He's finding out that some things just don't make any sense.  Nevertheless, thanks to http://www.noradsanta.org/ we were able to keep the magic alive for him for one more year.

Despite this, however, Ethan was still a bit too curious to totally give in.  At three separate intervals Christmas Eve night, as Michelle and I were "preparing" and he was supposed to be in bed asleep, he snuck out of his bed and went downstairs to get a visual on the tree, presents, and stockings to make a mental comparison of how he left them during his previous inspection.  This is one good thing about buying/owning a crappy run-down house... the stairs creaked a little too much during his descents, triggering my senses and alerting me to the fact that we had a rogue child on the loose.

Ethan: "Dad, what happened to the stockings?"

Dad, realizing he took them off the mantle a bit too early: "Ethan, are you crazy? Santa is probably here right now, and you had to nose around and force him to hide! Now, get to bed!"

Ethan: "Lets check the Internet, just to be sure."

So, thanks to the Internet, we were able to determine that Santa was in the Sandwich Islands at the moment, far away from Pennsylvania and not scheduled to be here for another couple of hours.  I had to come up with excuses, fast. 

Dad: "Let me check with mom..."... "oh, she told me that she had to take them down to make sure they were clean and empty for Santa."

Preston was easy to convince, however.  Everything from brushing his teeth to making sure he made his bed to getting him to eat his beans-- each was "encouraged" by making sure Preston knew that I had access to Santa's cell phone number and could call him at any time.

Preston did almost blow it for all of us, though.  In the days leading up to Christmas, he actually was able to sneak into our bedroom during one of our (actually, Michelle does all the wrapping... I am a wrapping idiot) wrapping evenings.  Amberlee followed.  They found everything that Santa was planning to bring to them, all unwrapped and easily accessible.  Amberlee walked out with her stuffed Minnie Mouse, and Preston came down to ask us who the toy pistols were for.

Needless to say, I got in trouble for not watching the kids closer.  I had to defend myself with the question, "Well, why didn't YOU (Michelle) lock the door when you left the bedroom?"  She countered, "Because I'm too short to reach the key on top of the door jamb!"  Touche.

The kicker was Ethan's Christmas list.  He sent 2 letters to Santa the past couple of weeks, the second letter being a revision to the first.  He had only 3 items on it:

1. A Tech Deck mega ramp (these are the miniature skateboards that are the latest craze at his school);
2. A rat-faced nutcracker; and,
3. A boyish nesting doll.

Ey.  Words cannot express my concern for this kid.  While other boys are interested in the latest Wii games, sporting equipment, etc, my kid hopes that the rat-faced nutcracker he expects to receive is a Russian original.  The nesting dolls??  We tried to convince him that these are girlish, hence the inclusion of the adjective "boyish" on his Christmas List.

Defying all odds, however, Santa was able to find a rat-faced nutcracker.  Although he couldn't make the claim that it was a Russian original, it was a limited edition, which saved us from weeks of scrutiny.

The nesting dolls?  I think Santa had to put his foot down on that one.  "Boyish" couldn't bring him to deliver.

Overall, the kids got spoiled, again.  Amberlee got lots of girlie stuff and HAD to try on all clothes she received before she moved on to another present.  Preston-- he got his guns and his Hot Wheels, and he's happy.  Chrissa got iPod / iTunes stuff, DVDs, and so forth.  She's happy. 

Only 364 days till the next one.

National Treasures

Last weekend we made another trip to Washington DC.  Church thing.  We didn't have a whole lot of time, so we drove there (4 hours) and back in the same day.  It was a whirlwind.

But, to break up the day, we took the kids to the Air and Space Museum annex, which is located near Dulles International Airport, before we made the journey home.  The Museum contains all the air and space stuff that the primary museum on the National Mall can't contain.  So it promised to be good

Like all Smithsonian museums, it was free; however, unlike all Smithsonians, our parking fee was $15. 

However, the treasures inside were awesome!  Of particular importance were the following historical aircraft:

1. Space Shuttle Enterprise-- my personal favorite, but it nearly became the victim of a national disaster at the hand of my 2 year old... keep readin'.
2. Enola Gay-- the bomber that ended WWII.  Again, another favorite of mine... its size was incredible.
3. SR-71 Blackbird-- the spy plane of the Cold War.
4. Concord-- the Air France commercial jet that got you from one place to another in supersonic time.

The place also had a mish-mash assortment of odd items... the first flying car, the first helicopter, etc. 

Hundreds of planes, parked on the floor or hanging from the ceiling.  It was amazing that one building could contain them all.

So, back to our adventures with the official prototype of the United States Space Shuttle program.  As you might guess, each plane is fenced off to keep the riff-raff from accessing it.  What the Smithsonians never counted on was the sly maneuvering of small children who see these things as challenges rather than restrictions.  One minute Amberlee was by my side, the next minute she was running underneath the Enterprise... in full view of the crowds with all the spotlights shining on her.  My heart about dropped into my shoes as I gave her the Death Glare and, with a prominent index finger pointing down to my side, insisted that she come back.  It took her a few moments, but I believe the heat radiating from my face convinced her I was serious.

Thankfully, no CIA or FBI guys dropped out of the ceiling at the scene to haul me off to Guantanamo Bay.  But, as you recall from our trip to the Breakers House in Newport Rhode Island, she has a knack for threatening our lives by threatening national treasures.  At the Breakers House, she jumped on Mr. Vanderbilt's patio chair-- a total violation of the rules.  Now, it was the Space Shuttle.

I think her cuteness prevented us from being locked up forever.

Halloween

Halloween was a bit odd this year. We made the decision as a family to go TT’ing on Saturday the 30th rather than Sunday the 31st. The reasons vary, but it all boiled down to religion. And, I’m not talking so much about us being Mormon, either. In Pennsylvania, particularly near Pittsburgh, the religion is football… Steelers football.

While our hometown of Cranberry Township and its neighbors (Wexford, Zelienople, Mars) all elected to hold TT’ing on Sunday (with the caveat on their websites that this date will stick unless riots are started over conflicts with the Steelers game being held the same night), other towns held it on Saturday. So, we picked Saturday.

We drove to locations near Zelienople and Evans City, two nearby towns. At first, I was a bit hesitant about it. I mean, I had been to Evans City, and it isn’t what you’d call a major metropolitan area. It’s a small town—really small. Something like a couple of traffic lights and a population of 2,000 people, all surrounded by farmland. They don’t even have a WAL-MART (GASP)!

However, upon further research, I learned that Evans City was the PERFECT place to go TT’ing. The film “Night of the Living Dead” (the original 1968 version) was filmed in the Evans City cemetery and in nearby houses. Ha! So, go ahead and laugh, y’all… we are trick-or-treating in the very place that ZOMBIES arose from the dead to devour the city’s residents… back in 1968.

So, Amberlee was a witch. Preston was Indiana Jones (complete with fedora hat and a whip that actually made the whipping sound AND played the Indiana Jones theme at the same time). Ethan was a transformer. And Chrissa… well, I’m not sure what she was. She said she was a dragon witch or something to that effect.  She was an eclectic mix of witch, zombie, and bird all wrapped up in one. She covered herself with a feather cape, and when combined with her blackened eyes and lips, I thought she looked more like a dust mop.

 

But, when you looked at our whole bunch, we weren't much like we had intended.  Amberlee wouldn't wear her witch hat.  Preston's fedora hat drooped around the brim, making him look more like Jed Clampett than Indiana Jones.  Ethan's transformer suit made him look like a superhero. 

 

Anyhow, we hit the big houses, and the kids walked away with bags of king sized Snicker's bars, full cans of soda pop, king sized packets of Skittles, etc.  As Ethan quoted during our expedition: "Rich families give out WAY better treats than poor ones!" 

What did we give out?  Small bags of pretzels.  I guess that means we're numbered among the poor.

Strip Trip

Today we went to the Pittsburgh Strip District.  Never been there before.  Wasn't sure what to expect.  But, just to be prepared, I took a handful of $1 bills and a bottle of tanning lotion.


Hey, Boy Scouts are supposed to be prepared, right?

Anyhow, to my embarrassing surprise, the strip district is meant to imply "strip mall", kinda.  So I'm glad I didn't bring that Speedo.



Enjoying breakfast at De Luca's

I knew that, of course.  Anyhow, the Strip District is a setting of various vendors trying to sell you snake oils, foods, and so forth set up along both sides of a few blocks just outside the city.  And, since today is Friday AND one of my days off AND a school day, we had the rare opportunity to only take Preston and Amberlee with us.  That, by itself, cuts our headache potential in half.

So, we did the tour of the Strip District and picked up some great Italian food, Mexican food, and some chicken, plus tried various donuts, an olive bar, and some cheeses of miscellaneous origin.

We then dined at De Luca's Restaurant, which aired on the Travel Channels "Man Vs Food" a couple years back.


"Man vs Food"-- Pittsburgh

I did not get the humongous 6 egg omelet or the full stack of pancakes topped with ice cream... instead, I settled for the breakfast burrito.  Michelle got a full stack of strawberry and cream buttermilk pancakes and eggs.  Those two plates fed us all.

Lots of weird people in that area of the city.  I guess that is why we felt so comfortable there...

 

Adding more "cheese" to our breakfast

Family Vacation 2010

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

I called it "The Perfect Storm".

Seven people (three kids under age eight, two parents, and two grandparents) driving 1600 miles in six days through the New England countryside all packed into a minivan full of Diet Coke, Root Beer, licorice, Funyuns, Snickers, Almond Joys, Kit-Kats, potato chips, apples, bananas, and E.L. Fudge cookies. Stirred together, this was a recipe for disaster-- or at least some interesting reactions. Smoke and heat was inevitable. Spontaneous combustion was a possibility. Things could explode or fizzle. We just didn't know before we left what, if anything, might happen.

But, in the end, we all arrived back home as planned, and the only items missing were two of the three credit cards we took with us (one MasterCard lost in NYC, and an American Express lost in Palmyra) and a large bottle of expensive shampoo, probably left in Massachusetts.

On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being a total Titanic-style disaster, and 10 being a trip to heaven and back), I would rate this a 7.3. While we did get very wet, we didn't drown, we didn't lose any kids, we did not sink any boats or lose valuable possessions, and we did not cause or become part of any natural or man made disasters, yet we did not sense any angelic influence, either... aside from our kids behavior (told below), or me driving through Manhattan without causing a major international incident.

Chrissa did not accompany us on this trip. Fearing a scholastic tidal wave upon her return, she decided that missing school just wasn't worth it. So, she stayed with some friends.

There were a lot of unexpected twists in this little journey of ours. First, I (Cade) did all the driving... all 1600 miles of it. Dad "conveniently" forgot his driver's license and Michelle was too scared to drive in Manhattan

or Boston or any points in between. I smell a conspiracy, but I can't prove it. Second, despite our parking mishaps in NYC, I did not get cussed at or flipped off during the entire trip. I was a bit saddened by this, as there is nothing funnier than a good old fashioned NYC bird-finger pointed at you-- and you expect something like this in NYC, just like you would expect to eat a potato when visiting Idaho. I did get honked at once in Manhattan, but that is to be expected. So, all driving went well, that is, until we arrived in Stockbridge Massachusetts when a little old lady gave me the Stink Eye and a noticeable disapproving shake of her head while I was trying to maneuver a U-turn as she was trying to turn left around me. I'm not a great lip-reader, but from what I could sense, she mumbled a few words at me from within her car as she leered at me through cataract-covered corneas. Third, our kids did surprisingly-- no, astonishingly-- well in the car during this trip. Lacking was the usual fighting, punching, pulling, biting, kicking, throwing, and tattling that typically describes a Jensen road trip. The only explanation was that aliens invaded our home before we left and took possession of them for the following week. I'm not entirely certain this happened, but I can find no other explanation. Only alien supernatural powers could pull off something like this. Nevertheless, I thank them.

The New England leaves were also unexpectedly absent. Prior to our arrival, a strong storm had blown through, knocking off many of the leaves that we had hoped to see during our travels. Ironically, looking back, the New England leaves were not as good as they are right now in our own town of Cranberry... and, despite searching for lighthouses, the only one we found came to us by chance... in Erie Pennsylvania, of all places, as we pulled off the highway during our trip back home to take a potty break-- an hour north of our house .

And, finally, while we shouldn't be surprised at all, we were followed around New England by a little black rain cloud that showered on us at every possibility. Actually, it was a BIG rain cloud, and the rain wasn't nice, either. Similarly, last year we visited Hershey and Lancaster PA with mom and dad... and it rained on us there, too. I'm beginning to sense a trend.

We left PA and went to NYC our first day, taking 6 hours of early morning driving to get there. Dad claims the little car on our GPS that represents our car going down the road had spent time in the black (meaning we were off-road), in the red (meaning we were in opposing traffic), and in the blue (meaning we were in surrounding waterways), but I was too delirious to pay much attention. I vaguely remember the little car being upside down at times, and actually driving backwards. But I can't be certain. I was SO incredibly tired that I can't remember much of that drive.

NYC was everything expected. We only had plans to visit the Statue of Liberty (Ethan wanted to see it as proof that America was "real") and Ground Zero. However, our adversities started as soon as we crossed into New York state when, upon arrival at the Holland Tunnels that takes you under the Hudson River and into NYC, we had to pay an $8 toll. We then had to pay another $5 toll when I failed to turn off the road at the right exit and had to make a U-turn to get back into the city. That's $13 for getting lost, if you are keeping track.

The first parking spot, pre-determined, turned out to be an apartment complex. The second turned out to be a coat closet (although they did have cars in it, I'm certain that it was never designed for cars in the first place, and after being told it would cost me $55 to park in the closet for 4 hours, I had to perform an unprecedented 73-point turn to get the car back out of the closet in hopes of finding something better). The third turned out to be a bigger closet-- maybe pantry size, but not much larger, which we decided to use for the small fee of $29.

The Statue of Liberty was great. Ethan and Preston really liked it. Of course, with all the added security these days, we probably spent as much time waiting in the security line as we did on the ferry to and from Liberty Island. But, we got some great pics of the family there. Ethan is now only semi-convinced America is real... he has to see a bald eagle, wild, before he is fully convinced. I'm concerned that upon seeing a bald eagle, his final demand will be physical proof of Bigfoot or something.

Ground Zero was interesting. I had been to the World Trade Center towers 7 or so years before the attacks-- I remember a much bigger site. Ground Zero appears so small. But, I'm pleased to report that construction on the Freedom Tower appears to be moving forward, although there doesn't appear to be much done considering the 9 years since they all fell.

Comparison photo at roughly the same location

Our first overnight location was in Plymouth Massachusetts, so we had to get out of Manhattan and on the road to Plymouth as soon as possible. That drive took us through Connecticut and Rhode Island, but we made it to our beach house in decent time. The next morning, we backtracked a bit to Newport Rhode Island, an ocean side resort town that, in my opinion, was the best town we saw on the entire trip. We "toured" the tourist spots, saw all the super-expensive yachts in the harbor, and then toured Breaker House-- a small (70,000 square feet) home once owned by Cornelius Vanderbilt in the late 1800s. By comparison, Corny's brother, George, owned the much larger Biltmore home in Asheville NC (which Michelle and I have also toured) at 130,000 square feet... but who is counting? Sibling rivalry must apparently end at or around 30,000 square feet.  Besides, Breaker House was Corny's "summer cottage", so we can certainly understand why it was only 70,000 square feet-- who needs all that extra space? Corny's home consists of gobby architecture and ultra-expensive ego, just like George put into Biltmore. But, we loved it.

Amazing-- the skill of some craftsman in putting something like this together. The Breakers House offers self-tours with audio guides that describes what you are seeing as you walk through the home, and the kids got their own headset that was set to a kid's rendition of what they were looking at. Of course, all the original areas are roped off so you cannot sit in Corny's throne or in his hand carved-out-of-a-single-block-of-marble tub, but that didn't stop Amberlee from crashing the ropes and rocking in one of his chairs located on the second floor loggia. We got the Stink Eye from the guard, but I quickly snatched her up and apologized. While this mansion is out-of-this-world magnificent, it was hard to think about 133 Hazelwood Drive in Cranberry Township PA as a "home"-- while we are hard at work painting walls with $25 a gallon Ace Hardware paint, Corny covered his walls with platinum leaf and Spanish hand-stippled leather, or a bazillion pieces of hand-cut marble laid into a 200 square foot Renaissance style mosaic on the ceiling.

Newport had many other mansions of comparable status, but we didn't have the time, money, or self-esteem to go through those. We ate dinner at Buskers, an Irish pub, the joke being we were probably the only people that year who walked into the pub and ordered WATER as our beverage.

I absolutely loved Newport. I plan to revisit it as soon as we get the opportunity.

Our beach house was nice... a small place in Plymouth Mass that was a stone's throw from the Atlantic. We had the whole house to ourselves and stayed in it for 3 nights. Kudos to Michelle for finding another gem to stay in.

The next day took us to Plimoth Plantation (yes, the spelling is correct) and Cape Cod. Plimoth was a bit of a disappointment to me personally. Others liked it. I'm not sure if it was the rain or what-- but there wasn't a whole lot going on at the time. Its a village with an Indian section (we were instructed to call them by their tribal name-- Wampanaog-- but Indian was easier to pronounce) and a colonist section. Actors played their roles in costume and we were supposed to mill about and talk with them. There weren't a whole lot of actors present. So, with the rain and mud, it made for an overpriced stop. The kids liked it, though, and Ethan was quick to ask the Indians how they caught their fish, how the colonists cooked their food, and how many cannons they had to protect themselves (this cannon question was a common question at virtually all stops along our route through New England). Also of interest was the tour bus full of English tourists who so pompously questioned the Wampanaog about their relationship with the much wiser colonists, etc. All I can say about Englishmen: they have big noses and egos to match.

After Plimoth, we went to Plymouth Rock (a forgery if I ever saw one... I mean, seriously, can anyone truly say that THAT rock was the same rock that the Pilgrim stepped onto roughly 400 years ago??) and the Mayflower II. The Mayflower was a great experience... again, actors portrayed crew and Pilgrims, so we got to tour the ship and ask questions. Amazingly, only one Pilgrim died on that journey... the English colonist that we talked to said this particular guy was "taken by God because of his sins". Funny stuff. Personally, I would have never made it out of England very far-- I would either be taken for my sins or simply throw myself overboard at the thought of being on that ship for as long as they were.

Cape Cod was surprisingly HUGE. While we had plans to drive up the Cape to the very tip, we decided to turn back after an hour-and-a-half drive got us only half way there. So we stopped at some local towns, visited the cold, rainy beaches to collect seashells, and got some seafood at a small place in Falmouth. Cape Cod is way too big to spend only an afternoon in... you really need at least one full day.

The next day, we "toured" Boston. I say "tour" because the weather had other plans for us, unfortunately. We managed to tour the USS Constitution (i.e., "Old Ironsides", the famous battleship of the early American navy), which was fantastic. Again, Ethan got to ask all he wanted about the cannons. We then started on the Freedom Trail through Boston, but only got as far as Bunker Hill when, ironically, we were forced to retreat to our car due to the incessant rain. The rest of Boston was toured from within the car. We got to see a lot, but I want to see Boston again when the weather is a bit more cooperative. The historical parts of Boston are so narrow (the streets) that I literally had to drive part-way on the sidewalk just to let cars pass me. Early Bostonians must have been much skinnier that we were... which really isn't too far a stretch of the imagination.

From Boston, we went to Salem Massachusetts hoping to see witches and people hanging by their necks from trees or being burned at the stake or being crushed under a pile of boulders. Unfortunately, no such sightings. I was looking forward to a witch lynching. We were tempted to stop at some of the witch museums, but they were devoid of tourist and, again due to the rain, we just couldn't bring ourselves to get out of the car. So, what we saw, we saw from the car. Salem was a poor town, kinda dirty, without much to really see, so it was a bit of a disappointment to us. They did have a 1630 Puritan village that we could tour, much like Plimoth Plantation, but it was closed. Apparently, even the fake Puritans don't like it raining as much as it was either. We were surprised to learn that only 20 witches were killed in Salem. Twenty! That's it! I mean, twenty is a lot, but come on... 20 people roughly 400 years ago?  Isn't it about time we got over it?

From Salem, we travelled west to Lexington and Concord which, if you are an American Revolution enthusiast like I am, you'll know that these were the locations of the first Patriot - British military engagements of the Revolution. Concord has the Minuteman National Park, which we stopped by... I was AMAZED by it, even though it is a mere 5-mile trail that points out where things happened during the first night of the first day of the American Revolution; where Paul Revere rode (the trail was his path) and was captured; where colonists were attacked, etc. Again, I want to revisit with bikes-- or maybe the dune buggy???-- to get a good glimpse of the entire Battle Road, as it is called. Because darkness had set in by that time, we continued down the road, west, to our next overnight location: Northampton Massachusetts, home of Ivory Creek-- our B&B.

Ivory Creek was a nice B&B. It was actually constructed as a B&B, not a home that was converted to one. So the rooms were nicely appointed, but we had (for the first time) strangers sharing the house with us. It wasn't quite as weird as I had thought it would be. The breakfast was a bit unusual... kielbasa, eggs with herbs, and fried bok choy. Eh? Yeah. I liked it all, but not a kid favorite, so we had the innkeeper find the Fruit Loops. And, dad isn't much of a fried bok choy kind of person, which is an unusual deviation from his usual culinary connoisseurship.

From Northampton, we continued west and took a quick detour off the turnpike to a small town called Stonebridge Massachusetts. Having no idea what this town was, we were surprised to realize it is/was the hometown of Norman Rockwell, America's most famous painter. You know him:

They had his home, studio, and museum you could tour (we didn't), and the whole town was set up around this one person. Fantastic little town, despite the bread store not having any bread, and the chocolate store selling chocolates that had been imported. The town was teeming with senior citizen tourists-- like flies on a dead carcass, catching a glimpse of anything Norman Rockwell and snatching up anything being offered for free.  We decided to leave before we got trampled underneath Rascal scooters and walkers.

Our next and final stop was Palmyra New York. We pulled into Clifton Springs (just outside Palmyra) rather late, and without realizing it at the time, the entire town was without power. Probably took us 10 minutes to realize this, but when we did, the town took on a whole new dimension. All the houses were dark, streets were dark, and the B&B we were staying in was dark. Eerie! I thought we had inadvertently returned to Salem.  Soon the lights came on, we got settled in, and went to bed. This B&B was a converted home, really old, and not as nice as the others we had stayed in, but the lady was nice and she made a great breakfast for us. The house was OK... maybe 3.5 stars, but you could tell the house had been there since the time of Adam. She didn't force her kids to stay out of our way, either, which made it an odd interaction... us walking through the house of a stranger with her kids running through and around us. Didn't like that much. Palmyra was, of course, the same as we remembered it from last summer, but it was the first time mom had been there, so we did the whole church thing... Hill Cumorah, Smith farms, printing shop, etc.

And, from there, we drove home to Pittsburgh.

What a whirlwind tour! We were able to ID stops for a return trip (while cutting out the not-so-spectacular places), and will hopefully soon return to pick up what we failed to see.

See the slideshow titled "Family Vacation 2010", right side of blog.