Project 365, days 162-168

The first part of the week was spent traveling in the US heartland, like walking the town that was Truman's home in Missouri, waiting out the rain at the Kansas City Zoo, traveling to the top of the St. Louis Arch, and riding the endangered species carousel at the Children's Zoo in Fort Wayne, Indiana. We returned home to happy dogs, high temperature, and a blooming garden, and immediately went to work setting up the garage sale we'd planned (along with the rest of neighborhood) for the next (this) weekend. Goodbye baby stuff!

We're not in Kansas anymore

Last weekend Jon played the piano and acted in a performance of the Snow Queen at a conference of the Music Teachers Association in Kansas. Since they needed a prop car to get all the stuff from Ann Arbor to Kansas, and since we are a family that loves to travel by road, we drove there and back. The border of Kansas, by the way, is upwards of thirteen hours from Ann Arbor. We broke the drive down into two days of six to seven hours of driving each and broke each of those days into two blocks of driving separated by site seeing and a picnic lunch. In so doing we were able to take in the sites of four zoos, four national parks, and the Ansheiser Busch Clydesdale Stables all in one trip, not to mention Jon's show, a dinner with some music teachers, lots of weather, lots of construction, and a very exciting (and loud) fire alarm in the middle of the night. We had a great time, Calvin is really a great traveller, and we already can't wait for our next road trip adventure. Perhaps we ought to look into an AirStream.

Day 1, Zoo 1, the Potawatomi Zoo in South Bend, Indiana

Cool tiger.

Sweet tortoise.

Day 1, Zoo 2, Scovill Zoo in Decatur, Illinois

The tufted deer really liked Calvin. We really liked the tufted deer's teeth.

We road every train at every zoo on this trip, by the way, which might make up for the fact that we almost never ride the train at our own zoo. Or, more likely, it will just make him ask for that privilege more often.

Yeah, the goats may looks sleepy, but that brown goat got up right after this picture and tried FOUR TIMES to eat my skirt while I was busy taking pictures. Bad goat! Bad goat!

Day 2, potty stop 1 (and the only one you'll hear about), Griggsville, Illinois

On road trips we refuse to stop at cookie cutter locations for bathrooms or food. Instead we look for rest areas or use the bathrooms of the places we stop in for entertainment or food (again, never cookie cutter—we get enough of that at home). On day 2, after getting an early start with plenty of coffee, we were in the middle of nowhere looking for a quick stop between destinations when we saw a sign for a Visitor's Center in Griggsville. Getting off the highway it was immediately apparent that said Visitor's Center was not an easy on easy off kind of thing and we ended up driving about five miles further into nowhere before finding the small (don't blink, you'll miss it) town of Griggsville with a poll of bird houses worthy of someone's envy.

The Visitor's Center was hilarious—a tiny brick building as old as the town was small, with two old ladies sitting behind ancient machines (one computer, one typewriter). We perused their visitor's guides and listened to those two old biddies tease and flirt with a young guy who must have been employed by the town for general maintenance of their one street. Before we left we signed their visitor's book and asked some questions. Apparently the town used to make TV antennas that are now obsolete and when the factory(?) was no longer needed for that (some forty years ago) a man converted it for building Purple Martin Bird houses. They no longer make those, either, because that man died a few years back, but they are still Purple Martin Capital of the Nation, and when I asked the women what they did do in the town there was some general confusion. I guess it is probably now mainly a farming town. Only the human population was dwindling, though—we saw plenty of Purple Martins while we were there.

Day 2, National Park 1, Harry S. Truman National Historic Site, Independence, Missouri

In Independence we visited the ranger station in town and took a walking street tour of the residential area which included Truman's boyhood home and also his adult home where he lived with his wife, Bess (who also grew up in Independence and whose childhood home we also saw). They had nice signs.

Day 2, National Park 2, Harry S. Truman Farm Home, Grandview, Missouri

I actually liked this better than the the park in town. Although the farm home is boxed in on all sides by modern cookie cutter conveniences, the home has been well preserved and still has some of the original furniture in it. While waiting for the walking tour to start (which included ourselves only as participants) we had a really nice time talking to the park rangers, a man maybe a few years my senior. He'd actually grown up in Royal Oak and had worked at Isle Royal as well as in Sequoia in California before going to the farm home. He is what they call a lifer, or a permanent ranger, of which there are only about 250 to cover the 300 parks, so they tend to move around at times, taking new positions when old ones end. His chatter before the tour was very candid and informative about the park system and way of life, while his tour of the house was clearly rehearsed, but still informative.

The second ranger we talked to was an elderly woman who had taken part in the various organizations aimed at saving the farm home over the years and, in the early 90s, was part of the group that traveled to DC to again request that the home become a national park. On their second try, during Clinton's second term in office, the request was granted. Now she is a local ranger at the house. From her we learned all kinds of interesting, unrehearsed things abut the home itself, the history of the area, and Truman as well. Sometimes it's the people as much as the place that make site seeing interesting.

Day 3, zoo 3, Kansas City Zoo, Kansas City, Missouri

While Jon was busy with rehearsing and hob nobbing in Olathe, Kansas, Calvin and I decided to scoot back over to Missouri and visit the Kansas City Zoo. the weather that day called for scattered storms but things looked alright when we left. Much to our chagrin we found a scattered storm on our way that nearly stranded us at a flooded zoo with no power. When they say storm there, they mean it. The picture below, by the way, is after the rain greatly let up, the storm had passed, and we had made a dash to the zoo from the somewhat deep parking lot, only to find out that they were without power.

We ended up having a great time anyhow. We waited for about an additional hour for the rains to let up and in the mean while the zoo staff handed out ponchos, bottles of water, and packets of animal crackers to the patiently waiting visitors. Apparently we were the only people from out of state (who, I ask, would wait around that long if they were from within the state and could just come back?) and we ended up being interviewed for and aired on the local evening news. We saw the zoo in a light drizzle while caring zoo employees drove around on golf carts offering to give patrons rides to farther exhibits. Plus we scored some neat ponchos, and a chance to see the New Guinea singing dogs, a species I'd never seen before, believe it or not. The only heartbreak was that Africa ended up being flooded and we didn't get to see the bat eared fox. Well, that and the train wasn't working since the power was out.

Day 4, Budweiser Clydesdales, a.k.a. Grant's Farm, St. Louis, Missouri

And Grant's Farm is more than just the Clydesdale stables, it's also a mini zoo of sorts. I'll never understand, though, why this wasn't a Clydesdale carousel.

I can't imagine every looking this bored if my job was to play hose with an elephant.

Free beer (two nicely sized cups of it each, in fact) and some yummy brats were a good addition to the day. Too bad I wouldn't call it real beer, but it was still fun and refreshing.

And the elephants weren't the only ones with splash time...

Day 4, National Park 3, Ulysses S. Grant National Historic Site, St. Louis, Missouri

Grant's Farm, surprise surprise, is actually on the land that once made up the home and farm of Ulysses S. Grant, so the trip from the farm to the historic site was walkable. Strangely enough, Grant's actual farm was once known as White Haven. This is strange only if you note the color of the actual house.

The tour of this house was just as informative as the one of Truman's farm home, though the house was actually completely bare because they weren't able to procure the original furniture.

And, as was our luck on this trip, we met with quite the storm on our journey from the outskirts to the center of St. Louis. Lightning, thunder, driving wind and rains. Patience is a virtue, though, and it blew over in plenty of time for us to enjoy...

Day 4, national park 4, The Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, or the St. Louis Arch and Museum of Westward Expansion, St. Louis, Missouri

We were prepared to enjoy the arch from the ground, convinced that an experience of that height might be traumatic for Calvin, but once he noticed the windows at the top of the arch he insisted on going up, so we did. The ride up is not for the claustrophobic, but in general is a non-entity, and the view from the top is not overwhelming in its height, because the windows are small and the structure itself is engulfing. Calvin loved it.

We finished the day exhausted; this was certainly the most fully packed day we'd planned yet, but we figured that since we were on our way home being tired wasn't of too great a concern (as opposed to needing good behavior for the conference in Kansas) and there were so many great things we wanted to see. We decided, though, to go easy on ourselves and stop at a hotel (in I don't know what town) an hour earlier than our original plan. Little did we know that the hotel we chose would have a fire alarm sounded only minutes after Calvin was settled into bed and on his way to dream land, sending outside into the night and keeping us from enjoying that extra hour of rest. Hind sight is clearly 20/20. Oh well, only one day of driving and site seeing is left.

Day 5, zoo 4, Fort Wayne Children's Zoo, Fort Wayne, Indiana

Little sleep or not, the Fort Wayne Children's Zoo was quite an adventure, and we left absolutely no experience unturned. The sky tram, the log ride, the endangered species carousel, and the train...we tried it all. There was also ice cream, a wading fountain, and lots and lots of fun animals. This is one of the top zoos in the country and we can see why (even if nothing, and we mean nothing, beats the San Diego Wild Animal Park for wild creature experiences).

That would be Calvin riding a Manatee and Jon riding a Sun Bear on the endangered species carousel.

It's a gnu romance burgeoning at the watering hole.

He was soaked.  Good thing we had a suitcase of clothing in the car.

We thought he'd sleep in the car for the remaining leg of the trip, but no such luck. For our own amusement, and so that I wouldnt' have to fix dinner when we got home with nothing in the cupboards, we stopped in Marshall to enjoy the fine dining at Schuller's Inn and got home in time to fall into bed at a reasonable hour. Phew.

Project 365, days 155-161

Birthday week! The lillies are blooming, I made a cape for the snow queen for Jon's performance, and then I made a strawberry cake and made it into a train (for the small birthday party, of course). A morning of oranges, a big drum in music class, a phone call from Oma on his real birthday, and the next day we were off to Kansas. More about that next week.

To Calvin, who is four years old today

Four years old. I asked you this morning what is different now that you are four, or what can you do now that you are four that you couldn't when you were only three? "Well, I can play the piano" you answered, and then you proceeded alternately to ponder and to list all the new things about your life; you can reach the bathroom sinks and the washer with the short stool, you can write you're name and Gram's name, you can feed the pets without any help, you sleep in bed with no guard rail, and now your car seat is facing forward in the car. This was your short summary of the past year of your life—your sum of your own accomplishments—but the conversation itself was the measuring stick I really wanted. A year ago you were already an articulate and ready speaker, and the year of development has only strengthened that trait in you so that our conversation this morning was a real treat, as are our conversations most any time.

It was especially interesting to me the items with which you chose to mark your progress—the things that allow you more personal freedom, and the things that feel like real grown-up accomplishments to you, but none of the more general milestones, like running longer distances (almost a mile!), being able to kick and throw balls well, or finally being able to climb the bars at the park on your own. I figure that some of your filtering was temporal; it's not likely you remember that it was a month after you turned three when you (of your own choice and volition) swore off wearing diapers, but since we only just turned your car seat around last week it's that which stands out vividly in your mind. And perhaps you don't remember that you once drew and painted only in scribbles and blobs, and then one day last December I found real faces with stick bodies,which you promptly identified as ("of course") garbage men, hiding in one of your pictures. I'm absolutely certain that it seems to you as though you've always sung on key, though it was just over the past year that you have developed the ability so that others agree with you much of the time. Maybe most notably this is the year you started to learn to read, though I don’t think you see that as a milestone reached yet. First you recognized the letters, then you could write your own name, and shortly after you declared that it was time learn to read, so you did. You started with short phonics books of few words, but it is clear that you are on the verge of a major breakthrough.

These are some of the things with which I choose to mark your year of growth and maturing, but none of them is so precious to me as your new forms of communicating love; It is only in the past year that you have begun to say "I love you" or to throw your arms around one of us or kiss us with your own spontaneity true feeling. Nor are any of your milestones as rewarding to us as parents as your ever burgeoning interest in exploring and discovering both the physical and the metaphysical world. It was two years ago that "why?" first entered your vocabulary in a rather demanding way, and you have exercised that question with increasing insistence ever since. In response to your questioning attitude we have tried to expand your horizons and the world you have to explore; we have added books to your collection, allowed some very limited computer or TV time (you love building train tracks on the computer or watching the Plant Earth documentary on TV), taken you to new places (this week we embark on your first memorable cross country visit) and offered new entertainments, and expanded our own theories of the proper amount of information to include in any answer we give you.

Over the past year you have pushed us to expand our own horizons and constantly reassess our previously immoveable views on parenting. Your exploration has not been limited to the outside world, but also includes your own position in our family and your role there; you have never been prone to tantrums or to physical outbursts, but over the past year you have evolved an ability to push limits, question actions, and force us to take new, clearer stands. I have come to expect no less from you than a discussion, albeit not always a calm one, about not new requests, but old requisites. We do our utmost best to always give you a choice by which you can create your own outcome, but you have already begun to see through this and to actually question the validity of the options ("I don't want to do either of those, I want to..."). Your opinions are often clear, though, as is your ability to decide for yourself, if not always what is best then instead what is most desirable, and that is a sign to me of your growing individuality, another sign we take as a reward.

Our life with you continues to be a joy. We have grown comfortable, if not always at ease, with our roles as parents and with the dynamics of our immediate community—our family—and plan to keep it at this size. We greet each new year with eager anticipation and only brief nostalgic looks at the past. The whole world opens before you, and us, with years of learning, traveling, exploring, developing, experimenting. We look forward to it all, and we love you.

Celebrating four

I say celebrating, not turning, because he's not actually four yet and I want to hold onto every last second of three that I can. So while he turns four on Wednesday, we opted to celebrate the event this weekend in our usual fashion—with cake and ice cream, a few gifts, and the love of family.

He asked for strawberry cake, so that's what we made. The face is something he learned from his gram.

We always ask that gifts, especially toys, are kept to a minimum, and our families are very obliging. The gifts this year were Lincoln Logs, a tool belt with tools, a wood baking pie for his kitchen, and books (our favorite).

I think that my favorite part of the party was the cake, but that could be because it took quite a bit of time and creative energy to make that strawberry sheet cake into a freight train carrying carrying fruit and zoo animals.