tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50592337634466106742024-02-07T00:13:46.264-08:00Girls Weekend Journal#Girls Weekend, #traveloregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.comBlogger104125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-49401702483252088952023-10-23T06:17:00.002-07:002023-10-23T06:17:28.939-07:00The last cemetery, then off to the airport.<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6PcDoal6ZVaF5SaoX1_Znxuyr18oowakV2bHIuYT12bul04fKdPOZ48h3v9Vt_WKKpsUa_QDIrPuVYnIRyj65PbJrsK7HyjKAtZFP5SGNqs5ehZeh6dfmLtjeo4m8-P9eXlfxeVfbGrrLPYuGdBbcwjhkM78waZvYTnZ8b70p3XjpXjS57KpcYWsfSr0/s3088/IMG_2454_jpg.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6PcDoal6ZVaF5SaoX1_Znxuyr18oowakV2bHIuYT12bul04fKdPOZ48h3v9Vt_WKKpsUa_QDIrPuVYnIRyj65PbJrsK7HyjKAtZFP5SGNqs5ehZeh6dfmLtjeo4m8-P9eXlfxeVfbGrrLPYuGdBbcwjhkM78waZvYTnZ8b70p3XjpXjS57KpcYWsfSr0/s320/IMG_2454_jpg.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Thursday, Oct 19<p></p><p>It has arrived. Our least favorite day of Girls Weekend. The last day. The day we go to the airport and go our separate ways and back to our regular lives. Which, mind you, aren't bad, just not the blissful hang out time we enjoy on our trips. Journaling, researching, learning about new things and places, even learning new things about subjects we thought we knew well (example: tea!)</p><p>Fortunately, Kathi had booked herself on a one way flight home, because she never heard anything back from Orbitz who had somewhat led her to believe that they would contact her within 24 hours of her call to them with some sort of resolution. Both our flights leave around 3 pm and since we did most of our packing last night, we have time to check out at 10 am and get that last cemetery in.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKxwIjb2NRAX5F1h8kj-joQXzVqBfbn68akHnvFPBfPyX7nykXbe7WgiYXjJX0B4urC603ZT6uDV96Ij8a_AGnnltgrdT8kTqO1KJQJbmRl3tUNTxD0HqdjPVYH1_sI_nZEJjyWxXkd3hjAVsuEDUE9fkJh2Uk7yxla1e_dbG6n6KCMY3i_75zKP6u_g/s3530/DSCN0234.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3278" data-original-width="3530" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKxwIjb2NRAX5F1h8kj-joQXzVqBfbn68akHnvFPBfPyX7nykXbe7WgiYXjJX0B4urC603ZT6uDV96Ij8a_AGnnltgrdT8kTqO1KJQJbmRl3tUNTxD0HqdjPVYH1_sI_nZEJjyWxXkd3hjAVsuEDUE9fkJh2Uk7yxla1e_dbG6n6KCMY3i_75zKP6u_g/s320/DSCN0234.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>We took all our bags downstairs and I hung out with them while Kathi went to get the car. She pulled up in front of the hotel and we loaded everything in. We decided that I would walk on over to the coffee shop and Kathi would meet me there after she reparked the car in the parking garage so we could do our walk through the cemetery that we missed out on last night. Seemed like an easy to execute plan, right? Well, the cute little coffee shop that we liked so much doesn't open until 11 and it is only a little after 10. Just as I realize this, Kathi texts me to let me know that she is kind of stuck at the garage and tells me to go ahead and place the order for her coffee. I let her know that the place doesn't open until 11 and I start searching for another nearby coffee place that is open. After finding 2 places that serve ONLY coffee, not FANCY coffee, Kathi finally comes to find me to tell me her story of the gate to the parking garage not opening (it appears to be stuck closed), her having to ask everyone in line behind her (4 cars deep) to back up so she can get out of the entrance to the garage as well as informing them that the gate won't open and all the machinations she ultimately had to go through just to get the car reparked in the garage!! By the time we met up, I had STILL not successfully found a suitable coffee shop, but a helpful lady working in one the shops told us of a couple of choices. We chose Bitty and Beau's because, not only do they have fancy coffee, but they hire people with Down Syndrome to work in their shops to honor their 2 children who were born with Down Syndrome. Love this! We found the shop (which happened to be on our way to the cemetery), ordered our coffee and made our way to St Phillip's cemetery and graveyard. The gates to both were wide open this morning!! We wondered around in the cemetery first while hearing music from the church where they were having a baroque concert. What a wonderful experience! The young man who worked for the church who had kicked us out of the graveyard yesterday found us and told us that he was glad that we were able to come back today. He also pointed out to us the headstone of the man who wrote Porgy and Bess.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0YKoc6lBt-QVCR4d5EM1DlmZW6QU_DB3lHlDneewwSweVm0AiKwpEjAE4gogNZ-SilM_asz6TcygwwaBkqOoZn7eTgVaeQkQBqscQ0qxTcOEtcfNyetnzKZ04M8zhyua2235q4z_6-C4r078MPQbdvYE52hT2ewPMPSvqSnLV6iBlC_-p2rkSFxBUYl4/s4032/IMG_2444.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0YKoc6lBt-QVCR4d5EM1DlmZW6QU_DB3lHlDneewwSweVm0AiKwpEjAE4gogNZ-SilM_asz6TcygwwaBkqOoZn7eTgVaeQkQBqscQ0qxTcOEtcfNyetnzKZ04M8zhyua2235q4z_6-C4r078MPQbdvYE52hT2ewPMPSvqSnLV6iBlC_-p2rkSFxBUYl4/s320/IMG_2444.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />This is the cemetery where I took the photo of the lovely Spanish moss draped above the headstones. I find cemeteries like these that have trees and flowering bushes growing and providing shade much more peaceful and beautiful than ones that have been cleared of all trees and plants. We crossed the street and did a quick walk through the graveyard, which was also lovely, when the church bells chimed noon. It was time for us to leave for the airport. Kathi had rented the car we used through Turo which means we are to wash the car before returning it. Fortunately, getting out of the parking garage was nowhere near as challenging as getting into the garage had been and we were soon on our way.<p></p><p>Kathi had brought her handicap hang tag along for this trip because a) she has one (she uses it for when she takes her Daddy places) and b) because by using it, we didn't have to pay for parking! She was afraid of leaving it behind, so as soon as we got into the car, she tucked it between her legs to make sure it made its way home with her. Unfortunately, I think she promptly forgot about it. We made our stop at the car wash and she had to open the door afterwards to flip the side view mirror back into position that had been knocked back going through the car was. This maneuver caused the handicap tag to be swallowed into one of the crevices in the car. This only matters because upon arrival at the airport, Kathi dropped me off with the bags at the terminal where I waited while she went parked the car in the garage and at some point, while walking to the terminal to meet me, she realized that she didn't have the tag! Kathi is not having a good experience with cars and parking garages today!! So she went back to the car to look for the tag but had no luck finding it. We needed to check in and get to our gates at this point, so she texted the car owner to let him know what had happened and asked if he would please look in the car again once he retrieved it to see if he could find the tag. This man was kind enough to ask Kathi what car wash we went to and said he would drive there and look for it as well as looking in the car. What a gem of a guy!! Next thing I know, Kathi is telling me that he found the tag in one of the crevices of the car! (I don't know if he drove to the carwash or if he found it before doing so). Kathi and I have said this so many times, but I am going to say it yet again. God is always so amazingly good to us on these trips, in big and small ways. We always feel quite blessed.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3YfVRBCcJO1VqwtlEuliJBGy8ypGLQeJWyHJCQ7nZVF_C33f4pOcheuoC85gzL0PO3uJYxFEJVPwqIPrKf1AFKxZA5VfP_wrJ3H2kBI5eSxpdjyKnOn457D_Mjsl5XtdQmNZTb8-mcfWGcVRRqiCE4guKG_ikbjgUfSfRkLY1KEywR3RMP_ULeKlugo/s4032/IMG_2405.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3YfVRBCcJO1VqwtlEuliJBGy8ypGLQeJWyHJCQ7nZVF_C33f4pOcheuoC85gzL0PO3uJYxFEJVPwqIPrKf1AFKxZA5VfP_wrJ3H2kBI5eSxpdjyKnOn457D_Mjsl5XtdQmNZTb8-mcfWGcVRRqiCE4guKG_ikbjgUfSfRkLY1KEywR3RMP_ULeKlugo/s320/IMG_2405.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>We sat together for 30 minutes or so at one of the gates, then hugged our last farewells for this trip and prepared to board our separate planes.</p><p>Another amazing Girls Weekend in the books. Thank you, Charleston, South Carolina. North Dakota, here we come!!</p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-26214317511951642312023-10-21T18:40:00.000-07:002023-10-21T18:40:38.237-07:00Walk around Charleston and through cemeteries<p><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></p><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rtbcJvPaWlrFMDAVP7rLN2rna9Fh4lDMmmKnXQwm3IxnDSB4bCird-KH5SeYQZ52g7aj3jx5fefOvvymPRGMvWS_CWQgqUXVzK5BVWbhY4lmuGtMVPAgOEeZH8WGrfeeNm-zKMN5ak5GwOj2-hXKJD4Mf4-bIsVIcktXSlSgjTAwpL57Zu35jMX0m98/s4239/DSCN0198.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4239" data-original-width="3303" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rtbcJvPaWlrFMDAVP7rLN2rna9Fh4lDMmmKnXQwm3IxnDSB4bCird-KH5SeYQZ52g7aj3jx5fefOvvymPRGMvWS_CWQgqUXVzK5BVWbhY4lmuGtMVPAgOEeZH8WGrfeeNm-zKMN5ak5GwOj2-hXKJD4Mf4-bIsVIcktXSlSgjTAwpL57Zu35jMX0m98/s320/DSCN0198.jpeg" width="249" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Wednesday, October 18, 2023</span><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Ahhhhhhh. Finally, a “normal” Girls Weekend morning. We woke up at about 7, but I went back to bed for a bit just because I could! For those of you who are new to the Girls Weekend travelogue, a “normal” GW morning is pouring coffee, maybe grabbing a yogurt, and sitting down with a laptop to either journal or plan something or just look stuff up because we are complete nerds and love looking stuff up. And that’s exactly what we did. Somewhere around 10AM, Lori went to make us some cheesy scrambled eggs, which we usually have at least four or five times on these trips. It was a joyous, “slow” morning.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Eventually we showered and dressed and set out to explore. We had two items on our agenda today: to visit some cemeteries, which we both enjoy investigating, and to walk the pathway and street loop that Stephanie had suggested to us a few days before.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We left the condo around 1:00pm. Our first stop was the great little coffee shop we discovered the night before, then we walked down East Bay Street for a few blocks before turning east toward the water. Waterfront Park has a wharf that goes way out over the water. The weather was miraculous – the best day yet. Stunningly beautiful crystal-clear blue skies and shimmering water can make one just stop and acknowledge what God has done.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhItLi2o__ax4CndekdK-VTo2yDc02fHuUofP8uD9XQ5YmHO_HA53rQJlsPmsGowO8ZtyR_XuMq6XEwc_g88hjaRSSBnprkvqhlQmHi-LxjOWClxW7PHflbxWxRfHDOQ_sP5-NmyyVedRm2403Q0s97IvdcrOWNfqy8erBKUxnxrsche2fR5M3TxGAO6fk/s4470/DSCN0184.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3352" data-original-width="4470" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhItLi2o__ax4CndekdK-VTo2yDc02fHuUofP8uD9XQ5YmHO_HA53rQJlsPmsGowO8ZtyR_XuMq6XEwc_g88hjaRSSBnprkvqhlQmHi-LxjOWClxW7PHflbxWxRfHDOQ_sP5-NmyyVedRm2403Q0s97IvdcrOWNfqy8erBKUxnxrsche2fR5M3TxGAO6fk/s320/DSCN0184.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We walked all the way out on the wharf. A four-masted sailboat was gliding by, and we could clearly see Fort Sumter to the southeast. To the north, as Stephanie had promised, was an amazing view of the Arthur Ravenal Jr. Bridge, which spans the Cooper River. When it was completed in 2005, this bridge was the longest cable-stayed bridge of its time in North America and the tallest structure in South Carolina. We snapped a few photos of this bridge from the Aquarium a couple of days ago, but this was an even better view. Lori saw a dolphin, and I tried to get it on video arcing out of the water. I got to see it but missed getting a photo.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ImK1UJZaJu9bOYCemxEhAJuJoQTP3aFXkRXXpHRuOjTjj8qRGguGP4BZMsADh74jVu0utmSjb6OwnshlPKjpYFwgTQ9gI-iXLJXQyhVDWpnIH0wnD93SZ_wIXz6TEmptXhJP-6wNz1jBw2vlJUdHtJBjaILzQFtXPmbnxEIkLfTJKNph7IffBh_xhlk/s4076/DSCN0180.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1145" data-original-width="4076" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ImK1UJZaJu9bOYCemxEhAJuJoQTP3aFXkRXXpHRuOjTjj8qRGguGP4BZMsADh74jVu0utmSjb6OwnshlPKjpYFwgTQ9gI-iXLJXQyhVDWpnIH0wnD93SZ_wIXz6TEmptXhJP-6wNz1jBw2vlJUdHtJBjaILzQFtXPmbnxEIkLfTJKNph7IffBh_xhlk/w640-h181/DSCN0180.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">These Charlestonians sure do know how to landscape while making outdoor areas comfortable. There were delightful seating areas all over the place, including several covered areas with huge porch swings. We continued walking down Waterfront Park along the eastern edge of the peninsula to the famed Pineapple Fountain, which was installed in the spring of 1990, after Hurricane Hugo. According to the fountain website, pineapple motifs are common in Charleston and represent hospitality. Wading in the fountain is not only allowed, but welcomed, and while we were there a mom watched over her three kids romping in the water and ducking under the spouts that encircled the base of the pineapple.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL66uxmUZa4y9wcBqpUJxhBU4UFHIk_9y2pb8eU730N9iKPkFCzca8O41AjYwmwdgmEuLr1WRHHOgkfyvckRWiE1BcDVBF9wYTJyM9rr7kKvkPAo0MAmcSt6uu7Il9YHAjrC0Ucb4qHbk1n0ylxY4Foqwo2eU1-UpKA-7b8Y5T6i6SdrNCh01aXAnTRpM/s4608/DSCN0187.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL66uxmUZa4y9wcBqpUJxhBU4UFHIk_9y2pb8eU730N9iKPkFCzca8O41AjYwmwdgmEuLr1WRHHOgkfyvckRWiE1BcDVBF9wYTJyM9rr7kKvkPAo0MAmcSt6uu7Il9YHAjrC0Ucb4qHbk1n0ylxY4Foqwo2eU1-UpKA-7b8Y5T6i6SdrNCh01aXAnTRpM/s320/DSCN0187.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We veered west from the fountain then turned and started walking south on East Bay Street again, aiming for Rainbow Row. Lori wanted to try to get some photos without all the cars in front and thought that might be possible during the afternoon. It wasn’t, but we enjoyed seeing the houses in full daylight. One of the houses was for sale, so we scanned the barcode and took the virtual tour. We had the option to purchase the home, which is currently on sale for $4,200,000. We're thinking about it.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJED5JZ41GJQHRDwzdclWbbkkfwawphJss1fj-9C7UpciTw792a9zhsjIiPpCfNlOsAjCCOOkJtD3pP3tt22w6GDN_d5tzI8GG5kS2K6lV5yxaFCjUc3F3VlpqF6rkHasm-Hg0ZtBtE6Ndm0GdoZ23QKS2KfH75EaFtOUDMQzX9nMWkb2fhHBYHqdNt2g/s4608/DSCN0197.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJED5JZ41GJQHRDwzdclWbbkkfwawphJss1fj-9C7UpciTw792a9zhsjIiPpCfNlOsAjCCOOkJtD3pP3tt22w6GDN_d5tzI8GG5kS2K6lV5yxaFCjUc3F3VlpqF6rkHasm-Hg0ZtBtE6Ndm0GdoZ23QKS2KfH75EaFtOUDMQzX9nMWkb2fhHBYHqdNt2g/s320/DSCN0197.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>We left Rainbow Row and set off on a church graveyard/cemetery tour of our own making. While researching which cemeteries would be open today, Lori happened upon an interesting fact. There is a difference between a graveyard and a cemetery. Graveyards are attached to the church, while cemeteries are on separate, free-standing properties. Some churches own both. One of the churches we want to visit today, St. Phillips Episcopal, has an attached graveyard where only church members are allowed to be buried, and a separate cemetery across the street available to the public. In the end, we were able to visit only two of the three graveyards/cemeteries on our planned route.<br /><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIWjhXkhGQ_SC5QXFQn4PD1Q-PFl0ToSBwRvrhyphenhyphenj_Z18eKLO4BC5d3yDEaYxT-9qm39U7BDyNdkWT_AKu963hXGKPkjTIuLJrhE8YmJBG95X8JThkm_GfcqaMiZ-11YVkKl1rBDCeckMeJsLOyXlssPEggICS1S8L7xh1rtwQyppq95VA9hXY3HWgYfH8/s3173/DSCN0202.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2767" data-original-width="3173" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIWjhXkhGQ_SC5QXFQn4PD1Q-PFl0ToSBwRvrhyphenhyphenj_Z18eKLO4BC5d3yDEaYxT-9qm39U7BDyNdkWT_AKu963hXGKPkjTIuLJrhE8YmJBG95X8JThkm_GfcqaMiZ-11YVkKl1rBDCeckMeJsLOyXlssPEggICS1S8L7xh1rtwQyppq95VA9hXY3HWgYfH8/s320/DSCN0202.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We first went to Saint Michael’s, a beautiful Anglican (aka Episcopal) church with an attached graveyard. The graves are really packed in close together in these churchyards. There are also gravestones on the brick garden walls. Lori and I had no idea where those people were actually buried, because the markers were above other graves with headstones of their own. These graveyards certainly have a unique kind of beauty, and so much history. Some of the large headstones had the equivalent of entire obituaries carved into them. Many were so weathered with time that they were illegible, but often there were tombstones on graves from the late 1700s through early 1900s that were still clear enough to read fully.<p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Next, we visited the Unitarian Church, and were delighted to find the church doors wide open. There were some workmen inside when we went in, but they didn’t seem to find it unusual for us to be there, so we wandered and took photos at will. The church had all the grandeur of traditional old churches: huge, beautiful stained-glass windows, stately columns that went from floor to arched ceiling and then spread their bones out in a spiderweb effect. However, in contrast to many other sanctuaries, this one was bright and sunny, with light (blue, maybe?) walls and white columns. Lori took some great photos of the architectural details.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zIsYSP8dFPOHMjiCrkmlZa5BS3SVhYFUqFyGoTW2OvvCbOfYmdVGN38lyQLmd39TrYjpVd_EDtGflOecqOtojSBKOKDIxbMC3ntc-dOYX_YMeItrIta9_Tn8DaSS1VeFwzkT-pgArNbX-_uH0BulRt4q-Z8RrHYjSp-JmV4C6xosRIMsyr5TJrxEy84/s4511/DSCN0214.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2774" data-original-width="4511" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zIsYSP8dFPOHMjiCrkmlZa5BS3SVhYFUqFyGoTW2OvvCbOfYmdVGN38lyQLmd39TrYjpVd_EDtGflOecqOtojSBKOKDIxbMC3ntc-dOYX_YMeItrIta9_Tn8DaSS1VeFwzkT-pgArNbX-_uH0BulRt4q-Z8RrHYjSp-JmV4C6xosRIMsyr5TJrxEy84/s320/DSCN0214.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">This church’s website explained that although the footpaths in their graveyard were kept clear enough to walk through, they allowed the flora in and around the actual graves to go unchecked. On one wall of that graveyard there was an opening in the wall to another graveyard next door, which actually belonged to another church—we didn’t go to the front to get the name of this church. There was a stark difference between the two churchyards. There were no trees in this second one, and the grass was closely cut. Lori and I both preferred the semi-wildness of the Unitarian Church graveyard.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAckaYpgT9yxKLVFww4UlQm0_iEqytWTo3b5MdJ5weFjWKujkrdR9xbzQdA_Wwvv_4LSq7x0tyRPewo27fwkfk6BKlSj25YLjtObw7cXJhaV_0RP_tBjfLD9ogI6AH13mVnpDbMKvrFuoPZC3q0VthhC5vzfMkG7E7GXnTpNWjWfDtyjdGM4mLbI5efZg/s4364/DSCN0220.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4364" data-original-width="3273" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAckaYpgT9yxKLVFww4UlQm0_iEqytWTo3b5MdJ5weFjWKujkrdR9xbzQdA_Wwvv_4LSq7x0tyRPewo27fwkfk6BKlSj25YLjtObw7cXJhaV_0RP_tBjfLD9ogI6AH13mVnpDbMKvrFuoPZC3q0VthhC5vzfMkG7E7GXnTpNWjWfDtyjdGM4mLbI5efZg/s320/DSCN0220.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Knowing we were on a bit of a tight schedule to get to all three churches, just before 3:00 we decided to walk to St. Phillip’s. However, when we went back up to the front of the church, the doors were now closed . . . and so were ALL the gates to the graveyard! Another woman was also locked in with us. We walked back into the adjacent graveyard, but it also had no unlocked gates. All the boundaries were either 6-foot brick walls or wrought iron with spiky tops. We were astounded that no one had checked the grounds first before locking up. Earlier I had seen another small opening that led to the church offices. We headed that way, to be greeted by the same thing – high walls and no open gates. Lori looked more closely at the gate to the alley, which had a sign on it that said, “please close gate behind you.” It was a tall wooden gate. We went over to it and held our collective breaths. The gate opened! We were saved!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMUw7UXQ4zU7LJXxYID3cm0PaikQy1_BK_v754yRSHTeSAS9y35fCqd9dnFn1a4p47hKvJCDr-bmDQc_xDJIUlQZg6RtTXyqjBaOjY7gK_GYYqpqb3yTMGqULJb4_fTeIAZsCU8Z1B_Lv0agJUzxwYnENOJVllla19_Le_dcyAFR8jgtJvnBTecXPjGo/s4608/DSCN0221.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMUw7UXQ4zU7LJXxYID3cm0PaikQy1_BK_v754yRSHTeSAS9y35fCqd9dnFn1a4p47hKvJCDr-bmDQc_xDJIUlQZg6RtTXyqjBaOjY7gK_GYYqpqb3yTMGqULJb4_fTeIAZsCU8Z1B_Lv0agJUzxwYnENOJVllla19_Le_dcyAFR8jgtJvnBTecXPjGo/s320/DSCN0221.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></span><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We had passed St. Phillip’s several times throughout the week, and Lori was excited about the separate cemetery which looked to be full of live oaks dripping with gorgeous Spanish moss. By the way, this plant is neither Spanish, nor is it moss. It is actually an air plant that is not parasitic and does not harm the trees on which it grows. Also, you should never touch Spanish moss as it is usually infested with chiggers and could mean quite some discomfort for you. We reached St. Paul’s only to be disappointed. The church itself was open, but despite what was posted on their website, both the graveyard and cemetery were closed. Poor Lori was so disappointed!</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">One of my favorite souvenirs to bring back home for Eric is a sample of a local beer, but we had not seen a single liquor store the whole time we've been here. So, Lori headed back to the condo while I went on a mission. I found a liquor store online that was a half mile away. It was a lovely little corner store . . . that had no beer, because in South Carolina, liquor stores only sell wine and liquor. Grocery stores sell beer. Fortunately, there was a Harris Teeter right across the street.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">On the way back from the grocery I passed one of the huge houses that were always facing sideways—in other words they took up minimal street frontage but went way deep into the property and had long front, or side, porches. The door to the street, which looked like a typical front door, actually led onto the porch, not into the house. Then you walked down the porch to reach the actual front door to the house. Supposedly, the houses in Charleston were sideways to take the best advantage of the local wind and shield interiors from the most intense sun. Indeed, after I read this, I realized that the houses were only sideways on the streets that run north and south. On the east to west streets, the houses faced the street, like “normal”. In the Meridian Kessler neighborhood in Indianapolis there are several of these sideways houses. I wondered whether the same thought process was behind the design of those houses too.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I passed the market on the way back and turned to cruised through it for a couple of blocks. I had been looking for a small size backpack and found exactly what I wanted! It’s made of cork, super soft, and naturally water resistant. It was also somewhat expensive, but it’s Girls Weekend, so the backpack is now mine.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Once back at the condo, Lori and I did a bit of packing, wondering where on earth the time had gone! Unbelievably, this was our last night. The ridiculous debacle with my plane ticket was still ongoing, and I did not hear back from Orbitz, so it was a good thing I had purchased that one-way ticket as a backup. I’ll have to continue that fight when I’m back at home.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We made the last of our Hello Fresh meals, then played 2 or 3 rounds of Blokus, a cool little game I had owned for YEARS but never played. If you like word games and puzzles, you will like this game. I had the travel version that didn’t take up much room in my suitcase. After the game we settled down to watch the rest of Season 1 of The Morning Show. WOW. What a series. We were sad we won’t be able to watch the rest of it together unless we wait a whole year. Plus, I don’t have Apple TV. Ah well. Unable to stretch time any longer, we finally went to bed.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbpxE095_sJ_QqpuN0CAI_UscqXXOzs_pDvY5GcwvXKG_2sjA_uMYC3H31aOxY3qX5WxHUreHFaQYvo-vr0YJCtzIdvNXiI5Wbp_JK43JYQi_b5fXB6CbSD-KGyYXKoXw_0kGVYwW2LY3k34SvlqVYqiPWownr4Mb932gPiVBAS28Do9drsJsK_AqDb6I/s4133/DSCN0143.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2513" data-original-width="4133" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbpxE095_sJ_QqpuN0CAI_UscqXXOzs_pDvY5GcwvXKG_2sjA_uMYC3H31aOxY3qX5WxHUreHFaQYvo-vr0YJCtzIdvNXiI5Wbp_JK43JYQi_b5fXB6CbSD-KGyYXKoXw_0kGVYwW2LY3k34SvlqVYqiPWownr4Mb932gPiVBAS28Do9drsJsK_AqDb6I/w640-h390/DSCN0143.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p></div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-1586026750734208452023-10-18T16:22:00.002-07:002023-10-18T16:22:19.969-07:00Black Charleston History Walk and the South Carolina Aquarium<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkar1jwLMVxR5ujduioKXdIYC1p9xgZFJ2vJ3ZSEHa6xRIlLCnWeuyq9F9-g52xfEq8Teu-OqfUZQ1oQxdUP0m1942jz_EvkxWzhoq84GMBB0VyDDgs62l2wZVbUHTIU-KlCQaObKNZMfSM-sS3BI0qcleWvI4F8kb6qcNg2vcE1w2DoG8ZVx4yl8vi6I/s4032/IMG_2339.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkar1jwLMVxR5ujduioKXdIYC1p9xgZFJ2vJ3ZSEHa6xRIlLCnWeuyq9F9-g52xfEq8Teu-OqfUZQ1oQxdUP0m1942jz_EvkxWzhoq84GMBB0VyDDgs62l2wZVbUHTIU-KlCQaObKNZMfSM-sS3BI0qcleWvI4F8kb6qcNg2vcE1w2DoG8ZVx4yl8vi6I/s320/IMG_2339.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Tuesday, Oct 17, 2023<p></p><p>We awoke to yet another beautiful morning here in Charleston, South Carolina. This is a good thing because we are going to start the day with a Black History walking tour, aptly named Frankly Charleston because the guide's name is Frank, this morning at 10 am. Rico, Mari, and Amara are joining us once again. Kathi has been over the moon at this time that she has had to spend with all of them, particularly Amara since this is the first time that she has actually met her.</p><p>After having our morning cup of coffee, showering and dressing, we headed out and walked to the visitor's center where we were to meet our tour guide as well as Rico and family. It was a bit chilly still, so we tried to stay on the sunny side of the street when possible. Once everyone taking the tour arrived, Frank began his talk about the history of Charleston from the perspective of a Black American. The untold story. The story of how Charleston was built by black slaves transported across the ocean to a life of servitude. How the land that Charleston is built upon was originally all marshland filled with alligators and leeches and mosquitos. The slaves were tasked with filling this watery land with fill dirt and crushed oyster shells many feet deep in order to create a land base that would become viable real estate. Many slaves can also be credited with building the many beautiful homes and buildings in Charleston. They worked as sawyers, cabinet makers, carpenters, iron workers, plasterers, stone masons, and brick masons. Through the years the focus has always been on the beauty of the plantations, the plantation homes, and the government buildings with no credit given to those who created all this beauty through their forced labor. It's time that part of the story be revealed, be discussed, be made part of our history books. This is the story that Frank tells as we walk around a few blocks of Charleston. One of the first examples that Frank showed us was a gate that was made by black artisan and blacksmith, Philip Simmons. Commonly called the Peacock Gate, it is filled with African symbolism and is should more appropriately be called the Gateway to Charleston, the name that Philip Simmons gave it. He created many beautiful ironworks throughout the city of Charleston.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjin0LKgA0ZummNYhBKGM0f-y7AwMr9BbdKdx7mrMfdzcYsVaEwmw2_pvg7L57suWwDxlPDL9aktphCa4Jz_S3xWZ-6zvgvQNotLl_URyDFJoW2Ur6Lhoa5jyLOyD70Peuy13f4TDKa4Xi-i-OLfOoUO86_6hiIXvQ-kaqLfreLvzXlibg9jdmbdRMQ6mg/s3978/IMG_2331.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2523" data-original-width="3978" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjin0LKgA0ZummNYhBKGM0f-y7AwMr9BbdKdx7mrMfdzcYsVaEwmw2_pvg7L57suWwDxlPDL9aktphCa4Jz_S3xWZ-6zvgvQNotLl_URyDFJoW2Ur6Lhoa5jyLOyD70Peuy13f4TDKa4Xi-i-OLfOoUO86_6hiIXvQ-kaqLfreLvzXlibg9jdmbdRMQ6mg/s320/IMG_2331.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Frank also spoke of how ALL of Charleston is basically a cemetery full of the bones of the enslaved. Nearly any time digging for foundations is done in the city, bones are found.</p><p>The main area that we walked around for this tour was The Wragg Mall. An area named after Joseph Wragg, who was a politician and the predominant slave trader in South Carolina. Many of the homes in this area include his own home and the homes of his children. The streets in this area are all named after Wragg's children. Elizabeth Street, Mary Street, Ann Street, Charlotte Street, Henrietta Street, Judith Street, and finally, John Street. This area was close to the wharf where they slave ships came into port. Upon arrival, the black who survived the voyage were quarantined for ten days where it was determined who was healthy enough to be auctioned off. Anyone not deemed healthy enough was left to die. Frank showed us one of the concrete blocks used as an auction block upon which the person for sale would stand while the enslavers made bids. Frank told us that this part of town is where most slaves were purchased rather than at the slave mart in downtown Charleston. The buyers here were the wealthy whites, while those who purchased the slaves downtown, while needing slave labor, were not able to spend as much money upon their purchases.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxBL4j4Js0jnhJlUHkCd5a2A-FnpSzf9jvus47vLy6_VMOcWhflIrydoCsniaRMp-toCXkVNr1r-nIulFEyx6zbC1VS6hJkVEhq7Y5dCPaF-tMSx_6vvPqyzXVZ48j33v_K7fDRcu6hNLI7ZUdsFwcwkU46XtwEVvL4uNYvlP_j9crZ3dXySI7oa2Fo0/s4032/IMG_2335.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxBL4j4Js0jnhJlUHkCd5a2A-FnpSzf9jvus47vLy6_VMOcWhflIrydoCsniaRMp-toCXkVNr1r-nIulFEyx6zbC1VS6hJkVEhq7Y5dCPaF-tMSx_6vvPqyzXVZ48j33v_K7fDRcu6hNLI7ZUdsFwcwkU46XtwEVvL4uNYvlP_j9crZ3dXySI7oa2Fo0/s320/IMG_2335.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>While the information that Frank provided us with was interesting and showed us glimpses of the whole story of Charleston, I found his presentation to be somewhat random, off-the-cuff, nonlinear and at times difficult to follow. He was obviously very passionate about his topic, but, for me, I would have preferred a more structured presentation. The tour was to last 90 minutes and we built this into our schedule for the day, having purchased tickets for a 1pm entrance to the Charleston Aquarium. At noon, Frank was still talking, we were hungry, and we had a 15 minute walk to the aquarium so we were forced to leave the tour before it was over in order to eat and make it to the aquarium on time.</p><p>Upon arrival at the aquarium, we headed straight for the bathrooms and the cafe. Once our hunger was satiated and our bladders emptied, we began our exploration of the aquarium. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUSEbuKmuhNqjP12sV9jfMchVlE-pGDW6g45RU0bojjEWI_CNYN1wNGzL9y_PHUcpZf-EiTaJ7mqG8o_EVPoxG4vLeiMFzyL9Ovnl5o1tkyabEixilmkKvBm6YxKwGwb9WQ034AJVTlBVeTvODw05T_p8f24ZAW2r5nB-FBKJj7GCqtrabhPb3qYriyA/s4608/DSCN0157.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUSEbuKmuhNqjP12sV9jfMchVlE-pGDW6g45RU0bojjEWI_CNYN1wNGzL9y_PHUcpZf-EiTaJ7mqG8o_EVPoxG4vLeiMFzyL9Ovnl5o1tkyabEixilmkKvBm6YxKwGwb9WQ034AJVTlBVeTvODw05T_p8f24ZAW2r5nB-FBKJj7GCqtrabhPb3qYriyA/s320/DSCN0157.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>The aquarium is divided into different sections that focus on the different environments found in South Carolina: mountain forest, coastal plain, saltmarsh, coast and, ocean. In addition there are touch tanks and a Sea Turtle recovery area, where injured sea turtles are treated with the idea of releasing them back into the wild once recovered. In between the exhibits are play areas and these areas seemed to be what Amara enjoyed the most. We happened to be at the right place and time to watch the horseshoe crabs get fed. Since Kathi and I and seen a couple of these creatures when looking over the water outside the International African American Museum a couple of days before, we found this particularly interesting. Kathi even got to feed one! We were also fortunate enough to watch the bald eagle they have there receive her meal. The bald eagle, Liberty, is there because she had to have part of a wing amputated as a result (it is believed) of an interaction with a live power line, thus making it impossible for her to survive on her own in the wild. <br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh080lJExlpoBS24slxl__n58VGVwL9lTFlTn91sjEDH9xPi5f-gMAkw16vl5I1FtdPurMqZCjpMPtSMTJnThns9LQ-OS117WqALdDfLqrAk5dAXuZsbuHYwz5VjaUtWPN9jlIAoHgSd6dEnjUZFK45GcOzU57i867oMryJ79XHPBX_Ie0QZtW1i7fiLiQ/s2463/IMG_8637.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1910" data-original-width="2463" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh080lJExlpoBS24slxl__n58VGVwL9lTFlTn91sjEDH9xPi5f-gMAkw16vl5I1FtdPurMqZCjpMPtSMTJnThns9LQ-OS117WqALdDfLqrAk5dAXuZsbuHYwz5VjaUtWPN9jlIAoHgSd6dEnjUZFK45GcOzU57i867oMryJ79XHPBX_Ie0QZtW1i7fiLiQ/s320/IMG_8637.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Kathi and Amara spent some time playing the play area which was fun to watch and I know made Kathi very happy!</p><p>Rico and family needed to leave at 3 so that they could check out of their hotel room and make the nearly 3 hour journey back to their home in York, South Carolina. Kathi and I decided to stay for the 3pm diver's show in the big tank. The diver had no interaction with any of the animals in the tank for the show. Instead the show mainly consisted of a dialogue between the diver and the educator who was outside of the tank. We learned that the divers are all volunteers and their duties include preparing food for all the animals in the tank as well as scrubbing the algae away from the tank windows and the fake reefs inside the tank.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnOB0mSNyp7byzd5swa7QkYk5AryezJ2E-ie7GurcxGgZs9_wA_ZUozy90YtN691_tMP8EYfux0d2Gb5KQ_fV9CpsKggCr0xrizSefnUx7NZJtaLo9gVaSZyVy2VOXRoOPe8seHoOCh9tBq0i8-aQx7tHfw1C1oUPGOSVI9UiHkWDrHhOsIXQJqlFs9U/s4608/DSCN0167.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnOB0mSNyp7byzd5swa7QkYk5AryezJ2E-ie7GurcxGgZs9_wA_ZUozy90YtN691_tMP8EYfux0d2Gb5KQ_fV9CpsKggCr0xrizSefnUx7NZJtaLo9gVaSZyVy2VOXRoOPe8seHoOCh9tBq0i8-aQx7tHfw1C1oUPGOSVI9UiHkWDrHhOsIXQJqlFs9U/s320/DSCN0167.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Once the show was over, we left the aquarium to return to the condo. We had one more look, however, at creatures that live in this area when we looked over the side of the railing of the ramp heading out of the aquarium when we saw something moving in the sand. Turned out to be Fiddler crabs!! Funny-looking creatures but fascinating to watch.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRo8dMWkkIQcjlE-NHwN1JrB191PmTZiHo6emsXa4xNY40dS_H9E3n1TZHNHUISKyf8C3vcCvQCCAe6ljMkkfVw9HiLWQJQ1mws9BO2HOYD-Vszo7-1ERgMOR_Se76sncGE6fFtc3iEQYfaKcX8px6QTy2uyLhy0LZdLC0k6JPJcx98GDL2R40qI-iV9c/s2573/DSCN0171.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1878" data-original-width="2573" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRo8dMWkkIQcjlE-NHwN1JrB191PmTZiHo6emsXa4xNY40dS_H9E3n1TZHNHUISKyf8C3vcCvQCCAe6ljMkkfVw9HiLWQJQ1mws9BO2HOYD-Vszo7-1ERgMOR_Se76sncGE6fFtc3iEQYfaKcX8px6QTy2uyLhy0LZdLC0k6JPJcx98GDL2R40qI-iV9c/s320/DSCN0171.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We made our way back to the condo with a stop at Carmella's Cafe and Dessert Bar for some iced drinks, which were delicious by the way! We watched a couple of episodes of "The Morning Show", then Kathi broke out the game she was inspired to purchase after our visit to the Birds of Prey, called Wingspan. It is a game she had played before with some friends on a trip to Florida. It is fairly complicated and has a steep learning curve in order to play it and we were just getting into it when Eric asked Kathi about her flight arrival. Well, thank goodness he asked because, long story made short, American Airlines CANCELLED Kathi's reservation and no notice was given to Orbitz (where she booked her round trip ticket for this trip) or to Kathi. She, of course, immediately got on the phone to find out what the heck was going on and to remedy the situation and was on the phone for the next 2 1/2 hours with both American Airlines and Orbitz and basically got no answers. She ended up booking another flight home to be sure she can GET home, while Orbitz escalates the matter and tries to resolve the matter on their end. This situation brought an end to our game.<p></p><p>Once Kathi finally got off the phone, it was 11:30 and we were off to bed!</p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-57764506355396930252023-10-18T14:27:00.001-07:002023-10-18T14:27:35.886-07:00Magnolia Gardens<p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyuvuebyNKd75EF_3yCmwWlZpix14o26uPigRFKvQnbnQhv7CKROQU58VmhwifONoy9-RqXP2DVcwErOQK_LD8wgnPI8IwTM5VIC-EaVy2Q4IbBfr7noqij1IgQexd15MYvROFuAv1McI6L3HcDwIO_5_6EEMxsFEHtICmIouo_yUM210CnIWU1F6gbk/s4608/DSCN0087.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2911" data-original-width="4608" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyuvuebyNKd75EF_3yCmwWlZpix14o26uPigRFKvQnbnQhv7CKROQU58VmhwifONoy9-RqXP2DVcwErOQK_LD8wgnPI8IwTM5VIC-EaVy2Q4IbBfr7noqij1IgQexd15MYvROFuAv1McI6L3HcDwIO_5_6EEMxsFEHtICmIouo_yUM210CnIWU1F6gbk/s320/DSCN0087.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Monday, October 16, 2023<p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">This morning we were once again up early to write. We’re really trying to get a journal entry out every day, but (and this is totally our fault) these things take forever to write! Every year we learn something about how we want these trips to evolve. This year we clearly miss our “slow” mornings of coffee, journaling, listening to music, and just hanging out together before needing to shower and dress for the day’s activity. We have decided that from now on, perhaps two or three early starts are enough, and other than that, we can just leave at (or after!) noon to get where we need to be. Today we ended up having to hustle a bit, make lunches for everybody (us as well as the Vidot family), and fly out the door.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidP32APBHA4PPhIU87YFg4akxrT9ZN5mEaKrW20PoTlnkEs-FhNH9g87HfVoS0UC_tDKG18aLtXj8P59N2Ze9y6wU9TIEZXzXVoareZGXho5u7EiKsOkvBQvvUsHIQCzXk9SU_yi-Dp4xOWzfA7YL50_JzZggpwbPdVdwU1vA9638JgSymdUWgez7jtjs/s4608/DSCN0115.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidP32APBHA4PPhIU87YFg4akxrT9ZN5mEaKrW20PoTlnkEs-FhNH9g87HfVoS0UC_tDKG18aLtXj8P59N2Ze9y6wU9TIEZXzXVoareZGXho5u7EiKsOkvBQvvUsHIQCzXk9SU_yi-Dp4xOWzfA7YL50_JzZggpwbPdVdwU1vA9638JgSymdUWgez7jtjs/s320/DSCN0115.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We had made arrangements to meet Rico, Mari, and Amara at Magnolia Plantation and Gardens at 10AM. Both parties were a bit late—Lori and I ran into a bit of traffic, and Rico and Mari were on toddler time <span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><img alt="😊" aria-label="😊" class="an1" data-emoji="😊" loading="lazy" src="https://fonts.gstatic.com/s/e/notoemoji/15.0/1f60a/72.png" style="height: 1.2em; vertical-align: middle; width: 1.2em;" /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">. Lori and I got there first, sorted out the tickets and gathered whatever information we needed, and then . . . THERE THEY WERE!! I wrapped Rico and Mari in big fat bear hugs and kissed their faces in joyous reunion. I had not seen them for almost four years. I introduced Lori, and then focused on meeting Amara. Fortunately, I had reasonable expectations about meeting a three year-old who had never seen me before. I dialed my excitement and enthusiasm way back, squatted down (good Lord, considering the condition of my knees and ankles these days, that is no longer a position I can enjoy!) introduced myself, and told her I was glad to meet her. She stared for a bit, then scooted over by her mom, but did not turn away or burst into tears. It was, in a word, awesome, and very promising.</span><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The only way I was going to visit a plantation was if I knew in advance that its history of slavery was going to be acknowledged and discussed, and that it wasn’t just some <i>Gone with the Wind</i> look-at-all-these-pretty-<wbr></wbr>flowers-and-trees whitewash crap. According to their website, Magnolia Plantation and Gardens seemed to fulfill that condition. Rev. John Grimké Drayton planted the elaborate gardens in the 1840s for his wife, who was from Philadelphia and not entirely thrilled about moving to the middle of nowhere. He directed the enslaved people at Magnolia in planting these gardens. But before that, when they were first kidnaped from West Africa, those same enslaved people and their predecessors spent years dredging the swampy marshland surrounding the property and working to somehow fill it in to make land and then using the expertise gained from their homeland to plant, nourish, and grow rice, which is not indigenous to the United States, and which the colonial enslavers had no idea how to grow.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The enslaved people who were forced to work here were literally worked to death, if not from pathogens, parasites, mosquitoes, alligators, and snakes, then from the effects of 14 to 16 hours of forced field work under a broiling sun that could literally cause them to drop dead where they stood. The Drayton family has owned Magnolia since the 1670s. Rev. Drayton’s ancestors made a fortune from the rice my ancestors died for well before he ordered the gorgeous gardens to be planted to woo his wife. I wasn’t going to visit any plantation-turned-tourist destination that refused to acknowledge all of this.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-CwRQGhpcYs86Q8ARx2Chyf-08WBfxjHI-7Gqt1WVA5XNNipwXibwGwx0tIGiOKJJQJE_N3Wu5yoZqiYPo-KNjx29jiWRKCBBmKhg750DHWfA6GuuNI8yeiXpQmEehJWLywk1lsShC2pk5SJwifczT_jPOWsEvHhXzLE9S7-CiXCPUCwVW78nkkRAME/s4032/IMG_2180.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-CwRQGhpcYs86Q8ARx2Chyf-08WBfxjHI-7Gqt1WVA5XNNipwXibwGwx0tIGiOKJJQJE_N3Wu5yoZqiYPo-KNjx29jiWRKCBBmKhg750DHWfA6GuuNI8yeiXpQmEehJWLywk1lsShC2pk5SJwifczT_jPOWsEvHhXzLE9S7-CiXCPUCwVW78nkkRAME/s320/IMG_2180.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We had 10:30 am tickets for the train, so the five of us headed over to the depot and boarded. The “train” is really an overgrown golf cart that seats about 20 people. The train tour was very informative, and it traveled the circumference of Magnolia’s massive acreage as well as rolled past the former quarters of the enslaved and also through the swamp and lake areas. However, it infuriated us that the driver WOULD NOT just stop for 15 seconds so we could take pictures. He would slow down, but not enough to focus and get good photos. He’d point out a great tree, or blue heron, or egret, or even alligators lurking in the pond or sunning on a muddy bank, but do we have good photos of those things to show? We do not. We think the trains are on a schedule and he had to keep moving, but they need to add 15 minutes between each departure time or something, and let the drivers stop sometimes.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZpkxLJDxjtXfUIh0pFAOcTy3P8HI3UgkYw-WXFy9KH_ajY9bwnC8wPp9-XrOfAU4VQWTc02lQ-_M8uhT5ksg8x65Y9sdZ0JBGZsO6Njsp_7aUHxj8uXZQHOdUTIZVJ0gv4_-Pc6QKMv2857rJ0A0PqzeSKBLl4zyp02SvDh0Gr_TeuTHiBHR_LVZw5s/s4608/DSCN0094.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2472" data-original-width="4608" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZpkxLJDxjtXfUIh0pFAOcTy3P8HI3UgkYw-WXFy9KH_ajY9bwnC8wPp9-XrOfAU4VQWTc02lQ-_M8uhT5ksg8x65Y9sdZ0JBGZsO6Njsp_7aUHxj8uXZQHOdUTIZVJ0gv4_-Pc6QKMv2857rJ0A0PqzeSKBLl4zyp02SvDh0Gr_TeuTHiBHR_LVZw5s/s320/DSCN0094.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">After the train ride we went to the little outdoor café and enjoyed a snack of delicious mini pumpkin pies and yummy hot cider. The weather was sunny and beautiful, but only about 65 degrees, and there seems to be an almost constant breeze in the Charleston area. We were all a bit chilly after the train tour and the cider hit the spot.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilr3QoP8kTyBYDb6PJW9DN_HR_Hx-jZKTpi9a9BPH_Bse8smsxyMMT0Dv98q1BQ51qOASD4477DS_g84McfSfdS6am9WQdrm0eYMTAoFN2wy90Qi5tL6pwiQ0YYTMrNdqwY4J50I3gv4uOyULcyDMHwbmBbtIuOeLnDw7iUF_6ExN5kVqCAIe0Uix2BVM/s3418/DSCN0108.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3418" data-original-width="3252" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilr3QoP8kTyBYDb6PJW9DN_HR_Hx-jZKTpi9a9BPH_Bse8smsxyMMT0Dv98q1BQ51qOASD4477DS_g84McfSfdS6am9WQdrm0eYMTAoFN2wy90Qi5tL6pwiQ0YYTMrNdqwY4J50I3gv4uOyULcyDMHwbmBbtIuOeLnDw7iUF_6ExN5kVqCAIe0Uix2BVM/s320/DSCN0108.jpeg" width="304" /></a></div><br />We had tickets to the 12:00 noon “Slavery to Freedom” tour so after our snack we set out to find the meeting spot. Post Emancipation, roughly half of the newly freed African Americans stayed at Magnolia to work as paid gardeners, tour guides, and domestic servants. Descendants of the enslaved as well as other Black families lived on what was called the “Street” until the late 20th century! Four former slave cabins have been preserved and restored. Our tour guide, Joe, met us and our group of about 30 people, and we all walked out to the site of four cabins.<p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joe was Black, extremely knowledgeable, and riveting, and spoke with a definite edge to his voice that had likely been sharpened by years of dealing with questions such as “But didn’t the slaves benefit from having been brought to America? That’s what I’ve heard” from his primarily white audiences. He gave detailed information about the cabins themselves and the people who had lived in them. Before he released us to go explore the cabin interiors, Joe told us he had spent 10 days living in these cabins. He had done the same in other slave dwellings all over the country. We found out later that he had written a book called </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://slavedwellingproject.org/&source=gmail&ust=1697748371218000&usg=AOvVaw3Qc_TDUWbK5c7hA700ygWt" href="https://slavedwellingproject.org/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Slave Dwelling Project</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">. He was a fascinating man. I could have talked to him for hours.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The four cabins had been built in 1850, and one had actually been lived in until 1990 by the head gardener who had raised his sons there. The cabins had been built as “duplexes” and each housed two families. They had been preserved and refurbished to reflect different periods of time: 1850 (when they were built), 1890, 1925, and 1969 (the one in which the head gardener lived). The largest of these cabins, the 1969 version, even after openings had been cut in the walls to turn the duplex into a single, two-room dwelling, was about the size of an average spare bedroom in the home of anyone reading this journal. This one cabin had been updated at some point with electricity and also with running water for a sink, but none had indoor bathrooms.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmaeWwo15UiyuSpBezqOtoaPD4dfGYVPFXLgCNfVj79f4Nm5QMEViPpfZgqsOayRQ1Xg9lemPb6ImmlKVlAyUDRx1lAz40VUs8nhKR9HjWddtS_5SvI3wqDN7ASpCbsPtD22loMdLybED05Bc3NsC0t9wHcq-q4szR2Ol6ooUxiKwHSig2e3ERnMgcCE0/s2046/DSCN0112-COLLAGE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2046" data-original-width="2046" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmaeWwo15UiyuSpBezqOtoaPD4dfGYVPFXLgCNfVj79f4Nm5QMEViPpfZgqsOayRQ1Xg9lemPb6ImmlKVlAyUDRx1lAz40VUs8nhKR9HjWddtS_5SvI3wqDN7ASpCbsPtD22loMdLybED05Bc3NsC0t9wHcq-q4szR2Ol6ooUxiKwHSig2e3ERnMgcCE0/s320/DSCN0112-COLLAGE.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Everyone was pretty hungry by the time we finished exploring the cabins, so I went to the car to get our lunches and we ate at some picnic tables by the Wildlife Center. While we were eating, we were joined by 3 or 4 gorgeous peacocks strolling through and looking for snacks. Amara (who by now had decided that her Grammi was OK with her and had even chosen to take my hand rather than one of her parent’s while walking through the cabins!) was thrilled by the beautiful birds and kept asking us to call them over so she could see them, and then calling out to them herself. Despite her obvious charm, they completely ignored her attempts.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">After lunch we went into the outdoor Wildlife Center, which was populated—like the Center for Birds of Prey—by rescued animals who would not be able to survive in the wild. Many of these animals, like the peacocks and a beautiful, sweet deer, were roaming about among us. Amara loved them all and ran from pen to pen, even gathering the courage to pet the deer after all the rest of us had done so.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmMcr2w82pL1VUH7XZHJAtUKjNzMAr-4XuFiESTkzOHXp3MAiByOCTzVgGtkoWQNGhWj8d3TxzJv4R4p5o7RiAjbJ9WvILGdiOF-zPmtx_RgYYf6JmjRRj1NssQTwa2qm_r2udY3FYHd4pHUbvvlFj-yRVHeEORGcMujiHBKoH-ilFazkRJnkE8plhtk/s2047/DSCN0117-COLLAGE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2047" data-original-width="2047" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmMcr2w82pL1VUH7XZHJAtUKjNzMAr-4XuFiESTkzOHXp3MAiByOCTzVgGtkoWQNGhWj8d3TxzJv4R4p5o7RiAjbJ9WvILGdiOF-zPmtx_RgYYf6JmjRRj1NssQTwa2qm_r2udY3FYHd4pHUbvvlFj-yRVHeEORGcMujiHBKoH-ilFazkRJnkE8plhtk/s320/DSCN0117-COLLAGE.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After leaving the Wildlife Center we started exploring the gardens, walking the paths that led down to the water. This was an extremely sinuous route involving walking through narrow paths bordered by beautiful trees and plants, crossing several beautiful bridges spanning ponds and swampy spaces, and making many decisions about which way to turn to get to our desired destination, which was an observation tower we had passes on the train tour. Amara hit a wall well before we reached our destination, and Rico got a workout carrying the dead weight of a sleeping three-year-old all over the plantation grounds. Once we found the observation tower and had hung out there for a while gazing out over a vast expanse of what used to be rice fields, we decided to walk back along the road/bicycle trail to return to our starting point.<p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We bid the Vidot family a fond farewell, left Magnolia just before four, and arrived back at the condo about 4:50PM, looking forward to having a nice rest. While doing so, we ate the dragon fruit I had bought on a whim at the grocery. What a beautiful and interesting fruit! Neither of us had ever had it before, and I had to look up how to cut and serve it. I read that it had a “mild” flavor, and that was certainly true. So mild, in fact that it was almost all texture and not much flavor. We decided that it was pleasant enough, but not earth shattering.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheG1xNfvOu8g36wBGDFwu9S2UFjLIUCIFritgRABgXv0iQ48NRAYh7ndonmCZibkRBUXWqs2QDzavv_EBwRX0GV1LZoT42boa1HujxCFQhfpGLRut4-DCBbkVgX9QKUGKghslnw0bitlMtQTfE6_coWzfCJei4oE2sMvdrg85amlXblpd8aZFh3vgj8n8/s2046/IMG_0832-COLLAGE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheG1xNfvOu8g36wBGDFwu9S2UFjLIUCIFritgRABgXv0iQ48NRAYh7ndonmCZibkRBUXWqs2QDzavv_EBwRX0GV1LZoT42boa1HujxCFQhfpGLRut4-DCBbkVgX9QKUGKghslnw0bitlMtQTfE6_coWzfCJei4oE2sMvdrg85amlXblpd8aZFh3vgj8n8/s320/IMG_0832-COLLAGE.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Around 6:45 PM we went back out for a walk, determined to get to Rainbow Row (a famous row of pastel-colored historic homes located on East Bay Street—the same street we’re staying on—down closer to the bottom of the peninsula) to take photos before we lost all daylight. People in this city are totally dedicated to their window boxes! So many houses and buildings have them, and they are for the most part gorgeous with beautiful fall colors in the flowers and foliage. We kept going past Rainbow Row and walked along the Battery, passing huge colonial mansion after huge colonial mansion, many of which seemed to still be single family homes. Our conversation centered around reflections on seeing the crazy huge mansions in the same day as having visited the tiny little boxes where the enslaved people who had built and even in some cases designed them had been forced to live.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZoFC50fKBSChgCLoMrAQhDTJzNnWsT138_C0AfaGNSxLTdrvu49F-AWBHJLc3Z1bYeELx4R2eJQhTVtl2i2CYEng-0g4RjdNEIL7v0xHCWg7vrHJCil69VubdULN56VvXApPH-BjdI6_nvYJzJRv-Bl1xQbW3FBw1WvDRAE9SdqHtaFsfhBB0uIaUt4/s4077/DSCN0145.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZoFC50fKBSChgCLoMrAQhDTJzNnWsT138_C0AfaGNSxLTdrvu49F-AWBHJLc3Z1bYeELx4R2eJQhTVtl2i2CYEng-0g4RjdNEIL7v0xHCWg7vrHJCil69VubdULN56VvXApPH-BjdI6_nvYJzJRv-Bl1xQbW3FBw1WvDRAE9SdqHtaFsfhBB0uIaUt4/s4077/DSCN0145.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2895" data-original-width="4077" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZoFC50fKBSChgCLoMrAQhDTJzNnWsT138_C0AfaGNSxLTdrvu49F-AWBHJLc3Z1bYeELx4R2eJQhTVtl2i2CYEng-0g4RjdNEIL7v0xHCWg7vrHJCil69VubdULN56VvXApPH-BjdI6_nvYJzJRv-Bl1xQbW3FBw1WvDRAE9SdqHtaFsfhBB0uIaUt4/s320/DSCN0145.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We walked quite a while, and it was well after dark when we returned home to watch an episode or two of our show and turn in.</span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtRBEBKJXDitbVFS6s76rJk7zeiDHb1Yq2bFsf1l2uACrwLnr6dLOo0MjvkPWCVCa1zrNvLAsP1exatTuUzIcU59ztsSn5sZqn00Ha-zznbwlCRfyfDy1IGiH6nnfsPt043v4FrjDwdFoxU8eFSrJAZ4ZDhQAhlgs5EpC235yykenlasRFZ2Tew4ImUg/s4032/IMG_2277.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtRBEBKJXDitbVFS6s76rJk7zeiDHb1Yq2bFsf1l2uACrwLnr6dLOo0MjvkPWCVCa1zrNvLAsP1exatTuUzIcU59ztsSn5sZqn00Ha-zznbwlCRfyfDy1IGiH6nnfsPt043v4FrjDwdFoxU8eFSrJAZ4ZDhQAhlgs5EpC235yykenlasRFZ2Tew4ImUg/s320/IMG_2277.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-74903392164500832212023-10-16T19:04:00.002-07:002023-10-16T19:04:26.623-07:00Girls Weekend 2023, Charleston, South Carolina. International African American Museum and Escape Room<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgchfDbL8ySYY9uyoCRvUvl8rQLsLKfuQ0LL2GY5q-XQ7Ob0qkqo58aQ_1jG7OfHvKBh4lBUHYBstd9w25PzKGMbrKwnIPRquTFDL_zn8R93lC0BAttNMYRBDRArHTCFBcVmduji2WPy_aAC0JetGxECHTbCDVsxWdA04FBIMxX-pCnrqrCptJSyY84WY/s3386/IMG_2049.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2125" data-original-width="3386" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgchfDbL8ySYY9uyoCRvUvl8rQLsLKfuQ0LL2GY5q-XQ7Ob0qkqo58aQ_1jG7OfHvKBh4lBUHYBstd9w25PzKGMbrKwnIPRquTFDL_zn8R93lC0BAttNMYRBDRArHTCFBcVmduji2WPy_aAC0JetGxECHTbCDVsxWdA04FBIMxX-pCnrqrCptJSyY84WY/w400-h251/IMG_2049.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sunday, October 15</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">After a good night's sleep, we both woke up around 7:30 this morning to get ready for today's adventure. No leisurely morning so far for us on this trip!! <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px;">Kathi and Eric are charter members of the new International African American Museum and received two free tickets to use during its first year.</span> Kathi has been talking about this museum and her excitement about visiting it since last year when South Carolina became our destination. So after our morning coffee, a round of cheesy scrambled eggs, we showered, dressed and headed out the door to walk to the museum. As always, God blessed us with a beautiful day and our not quite a mile walk to the museum was very nice. I, shamefully, did not realize the role that Charleston played in the history of slavery in our country. Kathi had told me that something like 40-50% of black Americans can trace their family history back to Charleston because this is where the <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px;">almost half the enslaved Africans</span> who were brought to this country landed upon their arrival. Once in Charleston, they were auctioned off and began their lives of servitude to their new masters. When Kathi told me this I realized just how much I DON'T know about Black American History, because the history taught in most American schools is, literally, a very white-washed version. One really great thing about Charleston, is that the city has decided to embrace its true and real history and talk about the role that African American people have played not only in this city but in America. Much of what we are doing on our visit here this week revolves around Black American history and I am looking forward to every bit of it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">The museum is very well done, if a bit overwhelming in the amount of information available. I started out reading every little placard of information I walked by only to realize if I continued to do that it would take me more than one visit to read everything. Along with information about the slave trade and how miserable the ocean voyage from Africa to America was, there is a focus on individual stories. Stories of what life for a slave was like to what life as a Black American is like today. Stories of the fight for racial equality and those who lost their lives in that fight. Stories of how, as much as we like to think we have progressed in terms of racial equality, there is still racial prejudice and bias very much alive in this country. The stories are enlightening and heartbreaking. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Kathi wanted me to be sure to share some of the things she learned at the museum today, so she wrote out this list:</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In 1790, a group of free people of color in Charleston formed the Brown Fellowship Society. They had a school, built a building for social events, and even had a cemetery, all restricted to light skinned people of color. Being invited to join the group was an indicator of social status. The organization continued into the 1990s. Growing up in Indianapolis, I always wondered about the light-skinned Black people I knew. Entire families were so light, and somehow always found other light-skinned Black people to marry and with whom to socialize. Maybe there was a Brown Fellowship of Indianapolis I knew nothing about.</span></i></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In 1807, Congress banned the Transatlantic slave trade, effective January 1, 1808. By then, South Carolina was the only state continuing to import Africans. African captives continues arriving through the illegal international trade.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In 1892, a mixed-race man named Homer Plessy deliberately violated Louisiana’s Separate Car Act of 1890 by boarding a whites-only train car in New Orleans. The law required "equal, but separate" railroad accommodations for white and non-white passengers. Plessy was charged under the Act. At his trial his lawyers argued that the the Act was unconstitutional and that the judge (John Howard Ferguson) should dismiss the charges. Ferguson denied the request, the Louisiana Supreme Court upheld his ruling on appeal, and then Plessy appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court. Plessy’s lawyers argued that the Louisiana law fundamentally implied that Black people were inferior. In a decision now considered to be the Supreme Court’s worst decision ever, the lawyers’ arguments were rejected. The Court stated that although the Fourteenth Amendment determined the legal equality of whites and Blacks, it did not mean that the elimination of all "distinctions based upon color" was required. I knew all about Plessy v Ferguson before reading about this at the museum, however that was because I had been in a play about the case. I was probably 40 years old at the time, well past high school, which is when I should have learned about a case like this.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><i style="color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">On February 8, 1968, state highway patrolmen in Orangeburg, NC, shot and killed Samuel Hammond, Delano Middleton, and Henry Smith at South Carolina State. Students at the school had been peacefully protesting a local, segregated bowling alley. In response, white patrolmen shot directly into the crowd, killing these three students, and wounding 28 more. The federal government pressed charges against the troopers for excessive force. They were acquitted. This is called The Orangeburg Massacre. I’ve never heard of it. Have you?</span></i></p><p>Along with the written word telling these stories there is art that depicts the Black American story as well as videos of Black Americans talking about their experiences, past and present. I sometimes forget how I benefit from being born white and take my white privilege for granted. This is a place where the differences between the white experience and the black experience is highlighted. A place that makes one give thought to what it would be like to walk in the shoes of someone born with black skin. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_M4SwUzcRS5rHvyMVNBySG_xEvBrPljh78uGObPDsl3v786XyPPwLGRyPunLiocdxJ6CE0-lqq2KiCPf03DGPk3gk5fuilZ00vhlzqKbMRLFlAtT58yYAawWq08Yux8iNzCcfDfXwMYxHP7frLjkQio-Zaz90fn-RwjLA79kzta4BK0tcFb8tiKdeiTA/s3377/DSCN0064.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3377" data-original-width="2623" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_M4SwUzcRS5rHvyMVNBySG_xEvBrPljh78uGObPDsl3v786XyPPwLGRyPunLiocdxJ6CE0-lqq2KiCPf03DGPk3gk5fuilZ00vhlzqKbMRLFlAtT58yYAawWq08Yux8iNzCcfDfXwMYxHP7frLjkQio-Zaz90fn-RwjLA79kzta4BK0tcFb8tiKdeiTA/s320/DSCN0064.jpeg" width="249" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>If ever you find yourself in Charleston, South Carolina, I would highly recommend a visit to this museum. But be prepared to walk and stand for a minimum of 4 hours to take in even a small portion of what is offered there.</p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">We walked back to the condo and spent the afternoon doing Kathi/Lori things. Kathi typing, Lori napping. <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px;">We got a good surprise today. Somewhere around 4:00 pm, Rico called Kathi and said that Amara continues to feel better and has again tested negative. And . . . they would be in Charleston later tonight!! Kathi is walking on air. She was really down about them not coming. Such great news.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">We</span> had made plans the night before to do an escape room with Stephanie and Steven and we booked a 7:15 reservation to escape "The Witches Attic" at Escape 60, which is just around the corner from where we are staying. We left the room around 6ish, though, to do a photo walk around the neighborhood (the French Quarter of Charleston), which is quite charming, lined with historic and interesting buildings. </p><p>We met up with Stephanie and Steven for our Escape Room adventure and began our attempt at 7:15. This was a great escape room. It was dark and gloomy, so dark & gloomy in fact, that we had to use our phone flashlights to see what we were doing. There were many puzzles to be solved, only a couple of keys to be found and lots of boxes and drawers that popped open when we correctly solved the puzzles. This was Stephanie and Steven's first escape room experience and they were awesome partners!! They were completely into it and with the 4 of us putting our brains to good use we escaped with nearly 10 minutes left!! For those of you who have followed Girls Weekend through the years you may know that Kathi and I have only successfully escaped ONE room prior to this, so this was VERY exciting for us!! Thank you, Stephanie and Steven, for joining us and adding one more success to our record!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgKPaB9zrYk-mc8kmQ73k-SXHZE5qEBc7gB6N3h6vmvVHxEDVkm7vVRldt3b0CnM-sHgDR9QBK4H9Vq5qxCh9f9KvvewuNHhC_8JpY0i8zy4kFqMMKRcPIwBJz4eqJhI3NnQ41tza_htZQ0rZCuml_IvMaqSMpf6W-Y4z-H8FAB6uvlccBp-SQBj6elc/s2910/IMG_2112.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2277" data-original-width="2910" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgKPaB9zrYk-mc8kmQ73k-SXHZE5qEBc7gB6N3h6vmvVHxEDVkm7vVRldt3b0CnM-sHgDR9QBK4H9Vq5qxCh9f9KvvewuNHhC_8JpY0i8zy4kFqMMKRcPIwBJz4eqJhI3NnQ41tza_htZQ0rZCuml_IvMaqSMpf6W-Y4z-H8FAB6uvlccBp-SQBj6elc/s320/IMG_2112.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>We parted ways after the escape room and returned to the condo where we watched another episode of "The Morning Show" (highly recommend) then went to bed. </p><p>Oh! Almost forgot! Kathi tossed the states and only one remained face up which determines our destination for next year.</p><p>We will be going to.....................North Dakota!!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipIjLXhjSuCFz9EhukxVcGsxciC7QRiwLYvsa-6e-Pl31IaL04QqCdwajXmZFC0t7-wF_Ke8sqFmIoVBVwRPvbFwF7Pg9XR0iUTeav96ac9YvPe3eKQwKKSU7bjhOVjrwHQSSDPsAEwVhOPoLQpQrM-M8O-5Fwn1NVCmH6qaZu5RZKJwugKDDhEW0fWFs/s2744/IMG_2027.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2066" data-original-width="2744" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipIjLXhjSuCFz9EhukxVcGsxciC7QRiwLYvsa-6e-Pl31IaL04QqCdwajXmZFC0t7-wF_Ke8sqFmIoVBVwRPvbFwF7Pg9XR0iUTeav96ac9YvPe3eKQwKKSU7bjhOVjrwHQSSDPsAEwVhOPoLQpQrM-M8O-5Fwn1NVCmH6qaZu5RZKJwugKDDhEW0fWFs/s320/IMG_2027.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-81539362137471633022023-10-16T15:25:00.001-07:002023-10-16T15:25:16.706-07:00Saturday, October 14, 2023. Charleston Tea Garden and The Night Market<p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Saturday, October 14, 2023</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />This morning we were up at 7:30 and journaling a bit before starting to get ready to leave, when I got a phone call from Rico, Ridley’s brother and my ex-stepson, whom I adore. Rico, his wife Mari, and their beautiful daughter Amara live about three hours from Charleston. I have never met Amara, although Rico, Mari and I all consider her to be my grandbaby. She is now three and calls me Grammi, and they were scheduled to come to Charleston for a couple of days so I could meet her. Rico called to let me know that Mari’s mother had COVID, Amara was with her all night Wednesday, and Amara has not been feeling great. They suspected she might also have COVID, and they had canceled their hotel reservation. I was devastated. I have been trying to see this little angel for so long and the stars just have not aligned. Before he hung up, I was already planning to buy a plane ticket and just go visit them before the year was out.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Today we were scheduled to visit the Charleston Tea Garden, the only tea plantation in North America. When Lori—the main researcher and planner of our GW agendas—suggested this place, I was rather “meh” about visiting it. However, rule #1 about Girls Weekend, and the reason we are always able to keep the harmony, is “she who cares most, wins.” Lori really wanted to see this place, so we went, and I was very glad we did. This was such an interesting site, and we were able to totally nerd out learning about all about tea.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB2Qc7IHNLBiBA48ZwF2Sl7sFDzHDGwZAZHlYtTCSjIHy-xzU9461c1rf7IIgKnDMKW_YxQ9WehREadb8uVVfgy6i0e1DODKMSNX3O6DH2uDTnAOH8E5oTvBny5n9jUX7g0874nPWbGStaxOAk4-sK6kvxsK_cYW27ARq6k-ufHRIt5nbTFwBHt102Aec/s3445/DSCN9980.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3445" data-original-width="3234" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB2Qc7IHNLBiBA48ZwF2Sl7sFDzHDGwZAZHlYtTCSjIHy-xzU9461c1rf7IIgKnDMKW_YxQ9WehREadb8uVVfgy6i0e1DODKMSNX3O6DH2uDTnAOH8E5oTvBny5n9jUX7g0874nPWbGStaxOAk4-sK6kvxsK_cYW27ARq6k-ufHRIt5nbTFwBHt102Aec/s320/DSCN9980.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>In 1963, a London-trained tea taster, Bill Hall, purchased a 127-acre farm in the South Carolina low country, then experimented and was able to transplant and revive some 100+ year old tea plants that had been abandoned after the death of a previous tea-grower. Bill converted the tea garden to become a commercial property and started growing robust tea plants that made delicious tea. Bill sought a partnership and sold the property to the Bigelow family in 2003, so the harvested tea from this place is now used in Bigelow teas. It was interesting to read that in the summer of 2020, this tea farm changed its name from the Charleston Tea Plantation to the Charleston Tea Garden. God bless George Floyd and may he rest in peace. His death was certainly not in vain and was a catalyst that changed the country in so many ways, big and tiny.<p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We arrived just in time to board our 11:30 trolley tour. As we rode through the fields and fields and FIELDS of tea we learned many interesting things from our driver/tour guide as well as from the recorded voice of the founder, Bill Hall, who died last year. Tea plants can be as old as 600 years (!!) and once it’s planted it is never taken out of the ground. This is the case even if the plant dies, because the root systems are so extensive that the removal of one plant would adversely affect all the other healthy plants around it. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqQCScSbff778ITPyx_YxlpOLQnpwW5eAAjTwuTNOLWlhxHUF1jh6VQN5KyxNN7gpGmiBk6_msqM4iJQOoM6UDLIqhhq2L6LXMLU4n3COwjffmQ3qhA9Zq66p7b_y96kQsnkQzwxCWbTHXqU0opwje08kP_7t7u5bCSX8HbnxK1jP5PtRmSdFBtlN5fk4/s4608/DSCN9976.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqQCScSbff778ITPyx_YxlpOLQnpwW5eAAjTwuTNOLWlhxHUF1jh6VQN5KyxNN7gpGmiBk6_msqM4iJQOoM6UDLIqhhq2L6LXMLU4n3COwjffmQ3qhA9Zq66p7b_y96kQsnkQzwxCWbTHXqU0opwje08kP_7t7u5bCSX8HbnxK1jP5PtRmSdFBtlN5fk4/s4608/DSCN9976.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqQCScSbff778ITPyx_YxlpOLQnpwW5eAAjTwuTNOLWlhxHUF1jh6VQN5KyxNN7gpGmiBk6_msqM4iJQOoM6UDLIqhhq2L6LXMLU4n3COwjffmQ3qhA9Zq66p7b_y96kQsnkQzwxCWbTHXqU0opwje08kP_7t7u5bCSX8HbnxK1jP5PtRmSdFBtlN5fk4/s320/DSCN9976.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the greenhouse<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqQCScSbff778ITPyx_YxlpOLQnpwW5eAAjTwuTNOLWlhxHUF1jh6VQN5KyxNN7gpGmiBk6_msqM4iJQOoM6UDLIqhhq2L6LXMLU4n3COwjffmQ3qhA9Zq66p7b_y96kQsnkQzwxCWbTHXqU0opwje08kP_7t7u5bCSX8HbnxK1jP5PtRmSdFBtlN5fk4/s4608/DSCN9976.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />The trolley made a stop at the greenhouse, and we were able to go inside, where 7000 seedlings were in various states of growth. The farm has several fields that have not yet been planted with tea.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7YXgs8dZTY1kh1g-7kl-sXAlBXxPXacszMSdgYWktJHslcFTxavLxGVUT1T-x2Plzt-yjZ1_21g3VCWvbX-mJFXV71rIFG824kgm6dCcLuSv9p9iNu668lYrB19tG27hhGxSyypsiq0uuoIfdu7Sv_D5XXdimxDXFFPWVkk-3TBwTEKKWeqbNR3EIY88/s4608/DSCN9984.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7YXgs8dZTY1kh1g-7kl-sXAlBXxPXacszMSdgYWktJHslcFTxavLxGVUT1T-x2Plzt-yjZ1_21g3VCWvbX-mJFXV71rIFG824kgm6dCcLuSv9p9iNu668lYrB19tG27hhGxSyypsiq0uuoIfdu7Sv_D5XXdimxDXFFPWVkk-3TBwTEKKWeqbNR3EIY88/s320/DSCN9984.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Lori and I agreed that the most fascinating fact we learned about tea is that all tea is the same tea—green, black, oolong are all the same tea leaves from the same plants. Later, after the trolley tour was over, we were able to go into the factory and view the full factory floor while learning how everything worked. The type of tea is determined solely by how long the leaves’ cells are exposed to oxygen during the processing: 50 minutes for black tea, 15 minutes for oolong, and no exposure at all for green tea. And those are the only three types of tea – anything else (mint, earl grey, orange spice) are all made from flavoring added to the tea leaves.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4aR7m7Vw7BXqNIA6y2dJ_G0C7MLA-JZU-igaZ8OT7iD_JaCeob5BQwnoEScBMteMRbZW0MtYxMXw7a9ygDoWHk0lV3Vre8buqzy9cRCy99ZMzC29jn4ATDhznut86agJxEE6fMOBnbVmeSj65_Ib7Ci6qTmBto-9NbVVxQ-38zT_0LbSKISlJEuI7nI/s4608/DSCN9975.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2779" data-original-width="4608" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4aR7m7Vw7BXqNIA6y2dJ_G0C7MLA-JZU-igaZ8OT7iD_JaCeob5BQwnoEScBMteMRbZW0MtYxMXw7a9ygDoWHk0lV3Vre8buqzy9cRCy99ZMzC29jn4ATDhznut86agJxEE6fMOBnbVmeSj65_Ib7Ci6qTmBto-9NbVVxQ-38zT_0LbSKISlJEuI7nI/w302-h182/DSCN9975.jpeg" width="302" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a field of tea plants<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />After the factory tour, we spent some time in the gift shop where there was unlimited free tea, both cold and hot. Lori bought boxes of tea to take home, and I bought a tea and peach popsicle that sounded tasty, but which in reality was freezer burned, otherwise fairly tasteless, and overpriced. Nasty frozen treats aside, however, this was an interesting and very informative excursion that rated a double thumbs up.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pUfsIKvzjJSHSgaK2-XEZS20_fvTPEOIjQtbqxJhkXfMEcT3fbogweNp5pwvMFPH0gRH_BUvdbeQ-ELfT4nSzI7QyxI9yLJMg41cb67c3p0X5q40qAo28AS9LFmUjO_srYd2DZo2Apj9mqBmzbu6phSStNqnEq5iKrCYHm9eBG29vdab6LhK0f2qa08/s4608/DSCN9991.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pUfsIKvzjJSHSgaK2-XEZS20_fvTPEOIjQtbqxJhkXfMEcT3fbogweNp5pwvMFPH0gRH_BUvdbeQ-ELfT4nSzI7QyxI9yLJMg41cb67c3p0X5q40qAo28AS9LFmUjO_srYd2DZo2Apj9mqBmzbu6phSStNqnEq5iKrCYHm9eBG29vdab6LhK0f2qa08/s320/DSCN9991.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Angel Oak tree<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />We left the tea gardens at 1:25PM and set off in search of the Angel Oak Tree. We had first heard about this tree from the trolley driver, and the gift shop cashiers also suggested we stop to see it since we would pass by it on the way back to the condo. So of course, we went. The Angel Oak was about 15 miles away from the tea farm. It is in its own park, and to get there you have to turn down a dirt road so riddled with potholes that it literally looks like footage of the surface of the moon. I was scared our little Kia Rio would fall right into one of the mammoth craters that covered 65% of that road’s surface. It turned out that seeing this tree was worth the risk. Photos will never do it justice, you must stand underneath it, walk around it, move through the 17,000 square feet of ground that it shades, and follow its long twisting branches (many of which have to lie on the ground for support), that are each as thick as the trunk of a normal tree. This tree is estimated to be almost 400 years old, and supposedly has a life expectancy of 900 years! May she forever reign.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysIrHUCuB79vZagy7dyPCz7OLy6LcOBqzbRzenYnrYrZKSee5EXfi8q9a3MMMPuaYTLhHekCW6G3Lgno0k2vzUVZukd40bi1D8CJW4FUtu_y-ewXDB8V8jweSMEA8gm21r0efylQ5EVvZ2n4R50ltWyvc_GzaGPnuGmdROsL4i-RF3AOJXDnZSxrqRow/s4608/DSCN9995.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysIrHUCuB79vZagy7dyPCz7OLy6LcOBqzbRzenYnrYrZKSee5EXfi8q9a3MMMPuaYTLhHekCW6G3Lgno0k2vzUVZukd40bi1D8CJW4FUtu_y-ewXDB8V8jweSMEA8gm21r0efylQ5EVvZ2n4R50ltWyvc_GzaGPnuGmdROsL4i-RF3AOJXDnZSxrqRow/s320/DSCN9995.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">At some point during the day, I received another text from Rico saying that Amara had tested negative for COVID and was feeling much better. He said they would test again in the morning and if all was well, might come after all. Not to be melodramatic, but my heart soared with hope. Amara’s veins hold the blood of my baby girl.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We finally pulled ourselves away from the tree to continue the journey home. We stopped at the grocery, then headed back to the condo and sat down to do a bit of journaling, but I soon realized I would not make it through the day without a nap. So, at about 5:30PM I snoozed off and woke up at 7:00 to find Lori had clearly considered the nap idea to be a good one, and was now enjoying one herself. I got up and started making dinner, and when Lori woke up around eight, we quickly ate dinner and headed out, two no-longer-young ladies ready for a night on the town.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Every summer since 2018, I have mentored med students as part of an IU School of Medicine program focused on introducing med students to research. My very first mentee, Stephanie, is now in her third year of residency at Medical College of South Carolina here in Charleston. We met up with Stephanie and her boyfriend Steven at the Charleston Night Market. The market is open every day from 10-5, but has special hours on Friday and Saturday nights. There are only local artists and vendors at the night markets, and Stephanie could not have chosen a better thing for Lori and me to see. We meandered along, meeting and talking to several artists, and buying a few things.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8nf7pnqDFiWJNGeL2MGEAVDSO368MTA5Z62iMBJ5GuOWhhPJ-8OfkglW5e6HrXVMdroUFOsSHxMXxymMBDMbHVHpXFcwkgTSEMo0XhYF3_kARnjABwGEJeeXI9tiTLrw-UXVUda7v0BOZ1oV6AHqxiZlwC_vU8qf9xbR-NE5yOVgFDV4AgxvxgtfoWs/s4544/DSCN0006.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1881" data-original-width="4544" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8nf7pnqDFiWJNGeL2MGEAVDSO368MTA5Z62iMBJ5GuOWhhPJ-8OfkglW5e6HrXVMdroUFOsSHxMXxymMBDMbHVHpXFcwkgTSEMo0XhYF3_kARnjABwGEJeeXI9tiTLrw-UXVUda7v0BOZ1oV6AHqxiZlwC_vU8qf9xbR-NE5yOVgFDV4AgxvxgtfoWs/w400-h165/DSCN0006.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />The Historic Charleston City Market itself is a collection of several long, slender, brick sheds extending for several blocks. Charleston was given the land for use as a market under the condition that it would always be used as such into perpetuity. These days the market houses several small “shops” and vendor areas and is delightful. A security guard encouraged us to check out the murals above the openings on the exterior walls of one of the sheds.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnT1Umqqzm_HjaQZrpX54p8lcNz-lAdNu8Hz5sYmDg3y2MeQmz5-AZkY-00YEUP5-vad5-9hYXsAWRZQKEj7TG38GJWIkQv8LuelXbv6J_um6tnm4axAGhTpM-Tv82CyNZLXmE1qVsGiNXwP6y7mWeFWoDdMoRUvGsxP0CF80Lk2MW0LUV-qLoMRL6gK4/s4032/IMG_2022.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnT1Umqqzm_HjaQZrpX54p8lcNz-lAdNu8Hz5sYmDg3y2MeQmz5-AZkY-00YEUP5-vad5-9hYXsAWRZQKEj7TG38GJWIkQv8LuelXbv6J_um6tnm4axAGhTpM-Tv82CyNZLXmE1qVsGiNXwP6y7mWeFWoDdMoRUvGsxP0CF80Lk2MW0LUV-qLoMRL6gK4/s320/IMG_2022.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">After leaving the market, we walked several blocks up East Bay Street to Vendue, a restaurant that has a rooftop bar offering craft cocktails and nibbles. On the way to the bar, we passed an escape room, one of our favorite GW activities, and agreed to all meet up there the following night. We continued on to the bar and grabbed a hightop table in the corner so we could see over the city. The breeze was constant and a bit chilly, but the atmosphere and conversation were wonderful. Lori had never met Stephanie, and neither of us knew Steven, of course. They have an intricate, quite lovely, somewhat tumultuous love story that started in eighth grade as a competition and friendship between two nerdy brainiacs and has progressed to Steven moving to Charleston five months ago. We very much enjoyed this time with them in the night air of a beautiful city.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7y9YsuD1JKusP2n57ajAhwfSiEIpKA7oOQcubELkCTTlPxpDM8BMZ9mfMx3YbMOFHCFs9Lr7SoQJ0Ejeovc16QRvMvhe7E9HVdSLduNeSxjkgjDh7PpcsiV7ByVZdYRC3363h2VDKMyRe_H0crdEOC1XpaLgS3DxybB2fNpRnz5WdqnvJhtM1WRxJrZ0/s4032/IMG_2025.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2632" data-original-width="4032" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7y9YsuD1JKusP2n57ajAhwfSiEIpKA7oOQcubELkCTTlPxpDM8BMZ9mfMx3YbMOFHCFs9Lr7SoQJ0Ejeovc16QRvMvhe7E9HVdSLduNeSxjkgjDh7PpcsiV7ByVZdYRC3363h2VDKMyRe_H0crdEOC1XpaLgS3DxybB2fNpRnz5WdqnvJhtM1WRxJrZ0/s320/IMG_2025.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We closed the joint! Lori and I have not been out like this, this late, since maybe GW #10? 11? We can’t remember when, let’s just leave it at that. We bid a fond farewell to Steven and Stephanie and got home at 12:15AM. We then had the nerve to stay up even later journaling and didn’t get to bed until 2AM. We did remember to first toss the states though. Three fell face down, leaving the winner face up. Since this is probably the earliest we have ever known our next location, we have decided to leave you with a cliff hanger for a day or two. Where do YOU think GW #27 will be?</span></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-39137905863227939822023-10-14T21:56:00.002-07:002023-10-14T21:56:58.484-07:00Girls Weekend 2023 Charleston, South Carolina<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOm_XSzFro9hw-47QA0JZ5ktsBUl71KVPKlyknF7P59OPFU55A9gYyOWkPL6jXV1XjVTkMLqoGfXtHg-oiIUKGd6w1kLy60NHhA2e9ooit91lM9A6ARGAyT9gEfiPlkousXSv0iHu98ixOXFurINjSRk-KqbVqToYf5JYV7T09j3RaKWaKVA6xTKX1b4Y/s3451/DSCN9934.jpeg" style="clear: left; display: block; float: left; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div>Friday, October 13, 2023 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-wTSWQBbJskcqqThS6LCLGBXJksIPd4KZicL6dpxyQs1XDYahPUE3L3TrBoCnXm7eugqSi5EfpCsLiylrwpdO-9ImTu1wB3E7bIZmwk9XgFUr505zJYbyOdFIH1i_Qw6VUQTUz41bVC28QkMOs-wDCwk9CEU6bDRtb9FcXo4HzURnnCQdPN6Vbraa5k4/s4032/IMG_1904.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-wTSWQBbJskcqqThS6LCLGBXJksIPd4KZicL6dpxyQs1XDYahPUE3L3TrBoCnXm7eugqSi5EfpCsLiylrwpdO-9ImTu1wB3E7bIZmwk9XgFUr505zJYbyOdFIH1i_Qw6VUQTUz41bVC28QkMOs-wDCwk9CEU6bDRtb9FcXo4HzURnnCQdPN6Vbraa5k4/s320/IMG_1904.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><div> Our first full day in Charleston. We woke up at 7:30 and showered and dressed for our outing to the Aviation Conservation Center and the Center for Birds of Prey. No leisure time this morning for coffee and computer time. The Center opens at 10am and they have a morning flight demonstration at 10:30. So we were out the door at 9:00 am, stopped for some Starbucks coffee on the way and arrived 5 minutes before the demonstration began.This was an amazing experience. This facility houses and cares for injured birds of prey and shorebirds. They also provide education regarding these interesting birds in an effort to protect the birds and the environments that they live in. Prior to the flight demonstration there were 4 handlers with one bird each perched on gloved hands. These birds are ambassadors for the center. They are taken to various schools and functions to provide an opportunity to educate folks about these birds and their place in our world and ecosystem and to dispel some of the misinformation that surrounds them. The four ambassador birds were a Peregrine falcon, a Savigney's Eagle Owl, a Barn Owl and a Harris' hawk. The staff at the place are obviously very passionate about these birds as well as quite knowledgeable. These birds were taken away and the flight demonstration began. The first bird to fly was a Red-tailed hawk. Red-tailed hawks are in abundance throughout North America and I would guess that most people have seen them on fence posts, signs and light and utility poles at the side of the road where they perch looking below for a meal. There are perches all around the demonstration field and seating area and the bird handlers have the birds flying right over the heads of the spectators. They fly from perch to perch as signaled by the handler in order to receive a morsel of food as a reward. Most of the birds living in the center have suffered some sort of injury or have imprinted on humans and would not be able to survive in the wild. Many of the injuries these birds have are the result of being struck by cars. The center provides medical care for the injured birds, then provides shelter and housing for them if they are unable to return to the wild.</div><div><br /></div><div>We were also treated to flight demonstrations by a turkey vulture, a burrowing owl and a Yellow Billed Kite. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWpM6H7ia2C5PeYwXTFYpMGmks9rEN8ti6kspzRq6CnuJB5gvYF8WE-NwwJhCj2DxYPpJrpk6Ej1mEyuA0idwR6lLAgXjYFapbD8MZwmOst2R8hKyiZWsVUh5qYH0VQ6dSrSY9FD-2nWWOxIPwb6O11oHFu67CIQkbIx2yhxcp9JNjEKIxI8eujB6WDuI/s2880/1709B75C-1452-40A9-A7B9-B70FCB77034A-COLLAGE.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWpM6H7ia2C5PeYwXTFYpMGmks9rEN8ti6kspzRq6CnuJB5gvYF8WE-NwwJhCj2DxYPpJrpk6Ej1mEyuA0idwR6lLAgXjYFapbD8MZwmOst2R8hKyiZWsVUh5qYH0VQ6dSrSY9FD-2nWWOxIPwb6O11oHFu67CIQkbIx2yhxcp9JNjEKIxI8eujB6WDuI/s320/1709B75C-1452-40A9-A7B9-B70FCB77034A-COLLAGE.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div> After the demo, we went to the gift shop and both came out with bird earrings. Kathi with burrowing owls and me with Great Horned owls. We then walked around the Avian buildings where the permanent residents of the facility are housed. There were hawks and falcons and eagles, kites and vultures. They also have a designated area they call the “Vulture restaurant” which is a open field where they place roadkill making it fair game for vultures to come and feed on and provide an opportunity for visitors to the center to observe them. Today there was a dead deer that had died on some nearby farmers farm. It had not yet been discovered by the local vultures because there were none there taking advantage of the feast offered.
After checking out all the birds in the shelters, we sat down at a table and ate the lunch that we had packed earlier today. Sandwiches, chips, cookies and water. Then it was time to gather for a guided tour with one of the center’s educators followed by the Owls in Flight demo. They have owls here from around the world and they are all beautiful and it was a treat to see them flying since they seem to be relatively elusive in the wild.
</div></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix816rb6ojCoRgDwByhHdlYDfQIZNWp78QuhRyLyCJj2A3WnZVaJYabjzfGpz5SMqFevaMNf1W6o2rcoXFZSpoYeWiIMwlnU711mv9c279Tk7BSH-XOmGctboIMhkTnRnXi_lKyt54_wUt9oKUbOdWWhCI2lMH2LGLgxZrB6fgTC_mlrTeluEBZWZhyphenhyphen44/s4414/DSCN9930.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2773" data-original-width="4414" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix816rb6ojCoRgDwByhHdlYDfQIZNWp78QuhRyLyCJj2A3WnZVaJYabjzfGpz5SMqFevaMNf1W6o2rcoXFZSpoYeWiIMwlnU711mv9c279Tk7BSH-XOmGctboIMhkTnRnXi_lKyt54_wUt9oKUbOdWWhCI2lMH2LGLgxZrB6fgTC_mlrTeluEBZWZhyphenhyphen44/s320/DSCN9930.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spectacled owl</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTq7ZkNj961ymr1oFkJ05wOCmx56pcyf1z35X3NS2K4IlrNwvGhislHJaNcoEWugAyfJe9JNqb57uOCeG6fADxIlWygMx0S0VNQPYe1UKjOFij6QU-ML95CI4NRMDWKyk-HQSCmcxki6GhBmQ13nGpKyJGE7GweFa_P0yGzZM-dB5jUta6NEy66SP0wM/s3451/DSCN9934.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3451" data-original-width="3172" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTq7ZkNj961ymr1oFkJ05wOCmx56pcyf1z35X3NS2K4IlrNwvGhislHJaNcoEWugAyfJe9JNqb57uOCeG6fADxIlWygMx0S0VNQPYe1UKjOFij6QU-ML95CI4NRMDWKyk-HQSCmcxki6GhBmQ13nGpKyJGE7GweFa_P0yGzZM-dB5jUta6NEy66SP0wM/s320/DSCN9934.jpeg" width="294" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Asian Brown Wood Owl</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3s_JMXQmS_Li8U2lDa4ec9TLRkAx8s9VbCqBiKyDQRkpMJMcKMP9vSyunB4FU8GHRXL4tC5Msr55g8vo9lKWGiA_J8YqknkRpSFPsQYkkBwzwhdsoYaGxE8w1BYU3oYIp0cWr1elc6ZTp5b-arsn9JQ4xl8M4ATNSLnSWO4O7PLoMRQ4tv0EoS7kcd6Q/s4025/DSCN9960.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2647" data-original-width="4025" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3s_JMXQmS_Li8U2lDa4ec9TLRkAx8s9VbCqBiKyDQRkpMJMcKMP9vSyunB4FU8GHRXL4tC5Msr55g8vo9lKWGiA_J8YqknkRpSFPsQYkkBwzwhdsoYaGxE8w1BYU3oYIp0cWr1elc6ZTp5b-arsn9JQ4xl8M4ATNSLnSWO4O7PLoMRQ4tv0EoS7kcd6Q/s320/DSCN9960.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Savigney's Eagle Owl<br /><br />After the flight demonstration we walked around the Owl Court where the center's owls are housed and saw many more owls. As we were getting ready to leave, we ran into another of the center's educators who was carrying a Lanner falcon around on a gloved hand while it was eating so we stopped and chatted with him for a bit and took some pics.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie7miOElu_VVSCCKk5S-m4csTpRo1J99M3OyDy-Zf2e7PXl38LOI9yQQHeZ91N2Kd3S5hvaSN9nidzPPO_T6sCJFunkO-6A8pLjst66pi_Rm2Ix1bV2UjSOECX2iXsb0mffwxugOaDe7QGhqjV1tyAL_bcnnNDC17-CuGT5A1CaLGnUzI4ZQbidf0Knx8/s4608/DSCN9968.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie7miOElu_VVSCCKk5S-m4csTpRo1J99M3OyDy-Zf2e7PXl38LOI9yQQHeZ91N2Kd3S5hvaSN9nidzPPO_T6sCJFunkO-6A8pLjst66pi_Rm2Ix1bV2UjSOECX2iXsb0mffwxugOaDe7QGhqjV1tyAL_bcnnNDC17-CuGT5A1CaLGnUzI4ZQbidf0Knx8/s320/DSCN9968.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lanner falcon</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNac_h9io9xcSkUJIbZ09z9k_og2V6WP6JpMf8UePOyiXOR8mHYkY3Hccz0y3GeHfKiCQUF6gWHbjLtxPigWdt1ns78QOJ28okFfn1wfdfWow1W4mmEXASuvYJNoL0UQE7YwasjRla8zeVTL7riRz8_SOlp16AWa5WKyGmiEuWm7LBUMWD20oVI-4s3Ic/s4032/IMG_1905.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Ab2wft9vdF-7QtrYWpXvtIReUmPk_7Sxy2hlwUAX1KYYOdLCuBikd1CL21CzctqmC7zwDUPTo_7RPLnOPqidsqnsSyqcoxxZ0C-Lf-NSdKB3D-ABGadKogcLoTbaSiXuENCiMUh08v0Ro-HNaw9Zzn83WOTXXOOcqr5r5KXfzheFotxByrAEqbwqr4g/s4032/IMG_1905.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Ab2wft9vdF-7QtrYWpXvtIReUmPk_7Sxy2hlwUAX1KYYOdLCuBikd1CL21CzctqmC7zwDUPTo_7RPLnOPqidsqnsSyqcoxxZ0C-Lf-NSdKB3D-ABGadKogcLoTbaSiXuENCiMUh08v0Ro-HNaw9Zzn83WOTXXOOcqr5r5KXfzheFotxByrAEqbwqr4g/s320/IMG_1905.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>We truly enjoyed our day here, but it was time to go back to the condo and spend the evening doing what we do. Editing photos for Lori and journaling about our experiences for both of us. We watched one episode of "The Morning Show", then Kathi journaled while I made dinner, Sweet Heat Cauliflower something or other from Hello Fresh that was quite tasty! I worked on this journal a bit, washed up the dinner dishes, then we enjoyed one more episode of "The Morning Show" before calling it a night and heading off to bed.<div><br /></div><div>Oh, I almost forgot, we did toss the states and it is now down to Alaska, Hawaii, Georgia and North Dakota!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Good night, all. Off to the Charleston Tea Garden tomorrow!</div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-41574281909442376262023-10-14T21:47:00.000-07:002023-10-14T21:47:02.013-07:00GIRLS WEEKEND 2023, CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA<div dir="ltr"><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA</span></u></b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyeLbG8oL0RIxgY33lfvQASa2Z11rBfBuEG1SIwmXaBBso-TvLEdiQuiPJ7jRwUnt45gjwHcaIU8Ew6Kn3tttLQlZEA1OEa8ke8v5D0S9CwYAgOfIzxbCF3USOS98SmP8k9FrilJZLMAHVaZqtRs2OKwt_JzSpL9rkFnuwTtO9D5GXAkffj06O33YIvQ/s3337/IMG_0827.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3337" data-original-width="2804" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyeLbG8oL0RIxgY33lfvQASa2Z11rBfBuEG1SIwmXaBBso-TvLEdiQuiPJ7jRwUnt45gjwHcaIU8Ew6Kn3tttLQlZEA1OEa8ke8v5D0S9CwYAgOfIzxbCF3USOS98SmP8k9FrilJZLMAHVaZqtRs2OKwt_JzSpL9rkFnuwTtO9D5GXAkffj06O33YIvQ/s320/IMG_0827.jpeg" width="269" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking out the window of the plane</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;">Thursday, October 12, 2023</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;">(Kathi is the main author today)</span></div><p style="line-height: 17.12px; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">There is nothing like waking up knowing that one of your favorite times of the year has finally arrived. It’s literally like being a kid on Christmas morning. I was up at 6:07, dressed, and at the airport by 6:45! I love living only 15 minutes from the airport. My flights were on time and smooth as silk, a small miracle considering I connected in Charlotte, an airport that experiences delays about as often as Donald Trump lies. (From Lori: I spent the night in Portland, set my alarm for 2 am and was at the Portland airport, sitting at my gate by 3:30am. I was so excited to use my new TSA precheck ability, only to realize that it really isn't that advantageous at 3:00am!)</span></p><p style="line-height: 17.12px; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">I arrived in Charleston first, at least 2 ½ hours before Lori was due. The owner of our Turo rental car actually met me at baggage claim to hand over the keys, which meant no airport parking fees to pay! I left the airport and went to the grocery to pick up the supplies we would need for the week. The grocery was only 10 minutes from the airport, so I was back in the cell phone lot in plenty of time to await Lori’s text letting me know she had landed. Lori had left Portland, OR at the same time (5:30 AM PST) as I left Indy (8:30 AM EST), but her second flight was five hours long (as usual! Poor Lori is destined to have to take long flights; there are just too many little states on the eastern side of the country!) I wanted us to be able to head straight for our condo. Once she was in the car we set off for downtown Charleston.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheaack3YiOOAIqyp8KOWHcoJ9lQRgg4txTYoDXh_InICrBXEh0sUFCWqAG14hANPFIgXLfHramFpRXCpwYQL-4w40Ts8LMSDzfeLmtDePWtc_AyMxv1GD3Lji82zsUGiQGMlTnOXvsf9IORYpRYDs6zZq2PSGPQcqRGCFnXiDcQ6q9Wax2e0P4Cj8FdcY/s3088/IMG_1845.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheaack3YiOOAIqyp8KOWHcoJ9lQRgg4txTYoDXh_InICrBXEh0sUFCWqAG14hANPFIgXLfHramFpRXCpwYQL-4w40Ts8LMSDzfeLmtDePWtc_AyMxv1GD3Lji82zsUGiQGMlTnOXvsf9IORYpRYDs6zZq2PSGPQcqRGCFnXiDcQ6q9Wax2e0P4Cj8FdcY/s320/IMG_1845.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="line-height: 17.12px; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">We arrived at The Lodge Alley Inn, a Bluegreen timeshare property. Lori and I are both timeshare owners and are both great at getting full use out of them. This property is delightful and in the heart of the city, right in the middle of everything! We were settled into our one-bedroom loft by 5:00 pm and spent the next 90 minutes getting caught up on each other’s news and current events. Lori usually brings her Bose speaker with her, but this time opted for her Echo device instead. I warned her that I had not been successful at setting up an Alexa device the last few times, something to do with the Wi-Fi security layering. Lori rolled up her sleeves and declared war on the system, but after an hour of trying, had to admit defeat at least temporarily.</span></p><p style="line-height: 17.12px; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">The sun was going down fast so we decided to go out for a quick walk before it got dark, but it was raining and a bit damp and icky. We decided to save checking out the neighborhood for another day and just grab some dinner. We found a taco place and went in to get dinner, then back to the condo, where Lori resumed her Alexa battle. No luck, and she had to acknowledge defeat. We decided to watch a show on Netflix, but Bluegreen had taken all the actual TV remotes and replaced them with simplified universal ones. We wanted to connect a laptop to the TV by an HDMI cable, but the stupidly elementary generic remotes had no option to select the input! Therefore, we were unable to switch to HDMI. So, I called Portia at the front desk for help (Portia and I were now BFFs because I had already called three times to ask for stuff.) Portia sent Damon, the maintenance man.</span></p><p style="line-height: 17.12px; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">Damon was the bomb! He was one of those (cough*rare*cough) quietly efficient men who first listened to us, then actually believed us when we told him we had tried everything. He did find a button on the bottom of the TV we had missed and was also able to get the stupidly worthless remote to perform a few additional functions, but in the end, didn’t really get much closer to solving the problem than we had. After a while, Damon quietly told us he would be back and turned and left the room. He returned with a real, honest-to-God TV remote and we were saved!</span></p><p style="line-height: 17.12px; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">Lori thought maybe this miracle worker could help connect the Alexa device, but sadly, Damon couldn’t get past the firewall. Finally, we let Damon leave and settled down to watch The Fall of the House of Usher, which was not good, so we switched to The Morning Show w/Jennifer Anniston, which neither of us had seen, watched S1E1, then went to bed. Great first day of GW #26.</span></p><p style="line-height: 17.12px; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">For the first time in years, we remembered to toss the states on the first night. The survivors were Hawaii, North Dakota, Texas, Georgia, Arizona, and Alaska! I’m pulling hard for North Dakota because it is the only remaining state to which I have not yet traveled.</span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_De-ZghQy1HPfyxQ_KXLorCchhUe5BPt2sOeD66zPMNrr0Zn32_D48BaIavA-K1UZAbn87tVKgPSnEStGatEBbm8HAWIW-SL0IAqlyF8hghtsuUyjk-wkfhWKoyeO46Ra3ud3rRdBcCpx0a11wxQuMGTUNPVyYkVAtTZBy8mN7d39RDNvP6o9HfPyMiM/s1456/IMG_1849.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1170" data-original-width="1456" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_De-ZghQy1HPfyxQ_KXLorCchhUe5BPt2sOeD66zPMNrr0Zn32_D48BaIavA-K1UZAbn87tVKgPSnEStGatEBbm8HAWIW-SL0IAqlyF8hghtsuUyjk-wkfhWKoyeO46Ra3ud3rRdBcCpx0a11wxQuMGTUNPVyYkVAtTZBy8mN7d39RDNvP6o9HfPyMiM/s320/IMG_1849.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br clear="none" style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /></div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-87187485021847279042022-10-22T07:00:00.001-07:002022-10-22T07:00:21.576-07:00Girls Weekend 2022. Headed home.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGlX7wX9BOYw9MQQkCGRsmpBlMrBr1z1vTaWysBMOn92-uqaVynyD6sQrBqf2hdscYEEGp9Q6d8Xumjwe1BqP408o6sOpTw8Ek-UNRbL4zAm1pFeyoxGwCazNKu8MBACRDDJY4d2SicEfJ-Dp0RkmoT4HxuLAeGC4WWP2rvXjG6EPTin5C86HLyai/s3621/575ADB2C-DE4C-4A9D-8B18-D71A01A9AB18.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2355" data-original-width="3621" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGlX7wX9BOYw9MQQkCGRsmpBlMrBr1z1vTaWysBMOn92-uqaVynyD6sQrBqf2hdscYEEGp9Q6d8Xumjwe1BqP408o6sOpTw8Ek-UNRbL4zAm1pFeyoxGwCazNKu8MBACRDDJY4d2SicEfJ-Dp0RkmoT4HxuLAeGC4WWP2rvXjG6EPTin5C86HLyai/s320/575ADB2C-DE4C-4A9D-8B18-D71A01A9AB18.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Thursday, October 20, 2022<p></p><p>(written by Kathi)</p><p>The end of Girls Weekend is always bittersweet. Lori and I have perhaps missed those we have left at home but have enjoyed being together so very much. We can never believe that it’s time to go home, but alas, today was the day. We were up by 7:00 to dress, pack, and strip our beds. Next we tackled the kitchen, cleaning up and packing up lunch and snacks for ourselves to have at the airport and on the plane. We made quick work of that and had an hour and a half to sit down, journal, and reflect on the great experiences we are always able to have on these trips.</p><p><br /></p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNIat63KD05HkAUUd7wNIfVN5bL-VFXR7fRY6dwCTcIvDziS9-h95jqwxiFHsKwwBOFZIwn0aTzQApc2PtHZ8j-nUU_yYP6SAvh6USYwWKIavPF7J9MaKRi91-c9X0bygAL-VsPj3BfqE4bBN78_aeqqJkQ1we2_fGxQpgqn6JtGKzZxY7n4Eq_H-/s1993/16490F41-061E-43CE-830F-F95AF16F59F5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1844" data-original-width="1993" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNIat63KD05HkAUUd7wNIfVN5bL-VFXR7fRY6dwCTcIvDziS9-h95jqwxiFHsKwwBOFZIwn0aTzQApc2PtHZ8j-nUU_yYP6SAvh6USYwWKIavPF7J9MaKRi91-c9X0bygAL-VsPj3BfqE4bBN78_aeqqJkQ1we2_fGxQpgqn6JtGKzZxY7n4Eq_H-/s320/16490F41-061E-43CE-830F-F95AF16F59F5.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the approach to Chicago on Lori's flight</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />At 10 am we loaded up and headed for the airport, stopping halfway there to fill the gas tank and wash and vacuum the car. We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, thank goodness, as the signage at the Philly airport absolutely sucks. For whatever reason we were not allowed to park in B terminal, from which both of our flights were leaving. It took 30 minutes to navigate the poorly marked path to another parking area, but finally we were inside the airport. We usually fly different airlines home, but every once in a while we get to delay our goodbyes and hang out in the terminal together, and we very much enjoyed that time. My flight left two hours before Lori’s, and once they called boarding for my flight we said our final goodbyes and I watched Lori head off to her gate.</p><p><br /></p><p>Thank you, God, for blessing us year after year with this opportunity. South Carolina, here we come!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwEo0PATE-bU9fISj0_5Nanm6LxwBwuYqS2fKDa2BkYA7aMOqCopmokquMVlJ0dvyMOSGXYK77EYzo479kM74PVtdruTxD9tDe1a62gDulrnWM3pi3hfquf7kFwDFydT-NP1NdsIHCUifalBua99EqhsJ-W1Ky_dW0werLZmachOtRuyQgzsPD4w-V/s4032/FADFB5D7-9765-480A-99F6-8132AE8D7B78.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2163" data-original-width="4032" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwEo0PATE-bU9fISj0_5Nanm6LxwBwuYqS2fKDa2BkYA7aMOqCopmokquMVlJ0dvyMOSGXYK77EYzo479kM74PVtdruTxD9tDe1a62gDulrnWM3pi3hfquf7kFwDFydT-NP1NdsIHCUifalBua99EqhsJ-W1Ky_dW0werLZmachOtRuyQgzsPD4w-V/s320/FADFB5D7-9765-480A-99F6-8132AE8D7B78.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-77413552702247242262022-10-22T06:41:00.000-07:002022-10-22T06:41:45.283-07:00Girls Weekend 2022. A Hike in Brandywine Creek State Park and a visit to Nemours Estate<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJseWIeYcaymtSc9SGX_eSnPxFQ9K6DBc5fK-4gCamEa8cqU3gZje3wFQrMMFdKFPv-pQnOLBUEAzBicKBm0YhifKTsIJ4rHlj1j3ETshbMH8CrEyBI-gShv8sZXgEjaeQckr65cnYMbpWH_aLioENDMOD7F53ISshI6qd1DwZlhTQCdNnbo71mjNw/s4032/IMG_0552.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJseWIeYcaymtSc9SGX_eSnPxFQ9K6DBc5fK-4gCamEa8cqU3gZje3wFQrMMFdKFPv-pQnOLBUEAzBicKBm0YhifKTsIJ4rHlj1j3ETshbMH8CrEyBI-gShv8sZXgEjaeQckr65cnYMbpWH_aLioENDMOD7F53ISshI6qd1DwZlhTQCdNnbo71mjNw/s320/IMG_0552.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Brandywine Creek State Park</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Wednesday, October 19, 2022<p></p><p>(Lori is writing today's entry!)</p><p>The last full day of Girls Weekend 2022. Always a bittersweet day. Sad to see Girls Weekend come to an end, but also ready to get back home to our regular day to day lives and to our families.</p><p>Mornings are nearly always the same on Girls Weekend. We get up and make our beds (every morning, we make our beds, no matter where we are), then sit down to our computers with a cup of coffee (sometimes tea) and check emails, social media and journal about our adventures. We switch off the journaling, each of us doing every other day because we tend to be a bit wordy (you think?), and it takes quite a bit of time to gather our thoughts and to do a good job of describing our days.</p><p>When planning today after returning from yesterday's adventure, we decided we were going to go big and do a hike in Brandywine Creek State park and visit the third DuPont mansion that is Wilmington, Nemours, so that we could say that we had seen them all!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qUsSTvEmL-BaeDnzWdN8PucBzHqm-_vA_TiHW4qbcg78FKAJ7_c2Nm5L5A2jRwKuLGebTDtj0fafR9p7zfSQK9qxPcBGvyCSGU0m6Enc6dVZzxkXAaozGiaq6O9df2lD4uwlGGIeCyP-BehT9wvSx6zFd3gRFqmqOc_Zcu4J5GdO3vEfMiGFh0rX/s4608/DSCN6479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qUsSTvEmL-BaeDnzWdN8PucBzHqm-_vA_TiHW4qbcg78FKAJ7_c2Nm5L5A2jRwKuLGebTDtj0fafR9p7zfSQK9qxPcBGvyCSGU0m6Enc6dVZzxkXAaozGiaq6O9df2lD4uwlGGIeCyP-BehT9wvSx6zFd3gRFqmqOc_Zcu4J5GdO3vEfMiGFh0rX/s320/DSCN6479.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>We decided to do the hike first. It was, once again, a beautiful fall day and in a beautiful place. It was a little chillier today than it had been toward the beginning of the week, but after getting chilled yesterday, we both wised up and added another layer. We did about a 2 mile loop hike where we were down by the creek on the way out and a little uphill on the way back. Not long after we started the hike, Kathi stopped and was reading a sign that was on the trail, while Lori got waylaid by some mysterious white things on the branches of a tree. Unsure if they were living things or little balls of white, fluffy stuff that had fallen from the treetops we took a picture and ran it through Google Lens (this is a fabulous tool one can use to help identify just about anything) to discover that these were, indeed, living creatures. Woolly aphids. Kind of creepy, really.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3YlxW-xXW_srrbAGAgiTq7tEKOM1k13fh788jAO-pGDvJMLubGL9R_gDiU9Sg9T_mhlXt0wvWqaXhbq-JrJLcPL0hZSfcQesFqXbWsZAA8957riSui1ym9JREeIbKyDUtYiFl3FF5qsbBlUJcolU09nxPx4c5Gx2rok4JxU9X03q3YZQQoBthLvG/s4608/DSCN6480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3YlxW-xXW_srrbAGAgiTq7tEKOM1k13fh788jAO-pGDvJMLubGL9R_gDiU9Sg9T_mhlXt0wvWqaXhbq-JrJLcPL0hZSfcQesFqXbWsZAA8957riSui1ym9JREeIbKyDUtYiFl3FF5qsbBlUJcolU09nxPx4c5Gx2rok4JxU9X03q3YZQQoBthLvG/s320/DSCN6480.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">woolly aphids</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>Once we finished the hike, we drove to Nemours Estate, to visit the third of the DuPont mansions and gardens that the family built in Wilmington. The mansion has 77 rooms sprawled out over 47,000 square feet surrounded by 200 acres of French Gardens and grounds. The gardens here are formal gardens, unlike the "gardens" at Winterthur. Winterthur's gardens don't look like what one thinks of as traditional gardens. The landscaping there, while deliberate, looks very wild and natural while Nemours' gardens, while spectacular, look more like what most folks think of when hearing the word "garden".</p><p>The mansion here is stunning. And most of it is open and one can walk around pretty freely from room to room. Each room or area has a docent that gives you information about the room one is in, in particular, along with with information about the house and its occupants, in general. I lost count of the number of bedrooms, but, with the exception of one pair, each had its own bathroom. I also lost count of the number of spectacular chandeliers that are in the home. It is said that the chandelier in the dining room once hung in the childhood home of Marie Antoinette. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMf6uvOLdYcjX7hV_WO0sybhNxwtdq5r854gcP3WqgqZ1WtIINDGn--_bfAkWbIUZyGMmMpa5U8UQwP0qOoLvH-14w3VcJenR5AaCX6C5LmPQnyf2hhfSfaQ7-YITnjQSHw3gypicQXMFpBSIkpCLp0Yp0heg9RFZDAr03YngRhCWXwV2pAsNP1YNy/s4415/DSCN6507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4415" data-original-width="3101" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMf6uvOLdYcjX7hV_WO0sybhNxwtdq5r854gcP3WqgqZ1WtIINDGn--_bfAkWbIUZyGMmMpa5U8UQwP0qOoLvH-14w3VcJenR5AaCX6C5LmPQnyf2hhfSfaQ7-YITnjQSHw3gypicQXMFpBSIkpCLp0Yp0heg9RFZDAr03YngRhCWXwV2pAsNP1YNy/s320/DSCN6507.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br />It is stunning. And there was not a speck of dust in the place. Apparently a 3-man cleaning crew comes in EVERY day to clean and the place is closed for something like one full month of year for a deep clean, where every little piece on every chandelier is cleaned.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqrNe1ZECLbeDvb3YfySfpj0kxHcF05SCXivdFuyZikHhUAONXSA6m7furXkYVTYgtZfXwKnCwSi5iJd0cs74mn8ovMRvJiGc3196FS7vQPKF-Dp__bZT97MKtwq9JZiIW_f6XCax_0X5TzL9DQLPJBYbqQ6kEo_d2PAzKi8gZCwd9dbnXWDfcbGK/s4608/DSCN6544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqrNe1ZECLbeDvb3YfySfpj0kxHcF05SCXivdFuyZikHhUAONXSA6m7furXkYVTYgtZfXwKnCwSi5iJd0cs74mn8ovMRvJiGc3196FS7vQPKF-Dp__bZT97MKtwq9JZiIW_f6XCax_0X5TzL9DQLPJBYbqQ6kEo_d2PAzKi8gZCwd9dbnXWDfcbGK/s320/DSCN6544.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the mansion at Nemours Estate</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>We had been told by the woman who sold us our tickets to be sure and check out the basement. She said this was her favorite floor of the house, so after touring the main floor we made our way downstairs before going upstairs. Once there, we could see why this was her favorite floor. One half of it is where all the equipment to run the furnace and the water is located, along with an ice room, where ice was made for the kitchen coolers, while the other half was Alfred DuPont's man cave. This section has a dark room, an exercise room, a sauna, a billiards room, a two lane bowling alley along with his office. One hallway holds his collections of items that interested him that didn't fit with the decor of the main living space of the home. Things like armor and model boats.</p><p>From the basement we went up to the top floor where the bedrooms are located. We had to go through fairly quickly because we were, once again running out of time and we wanted to have time to explore the gardens. The bedrooms were beautiful and the windows had magnificent views of the gardens. We exited the mansion and wandered the gardens, which are absolutely beautiful.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7ruFPcVEC63OUMynDLjhKedpZcIC3jzI5J2xQ3Xeh2QNDGG1ipCWEbbzXBOIBL1H9RL3cjCcfW91Yh9B8k8q5eaDDzncuYvTij5EE0ccD_EEwpx04Q_17uVcIqYL_MJYteodBvLXRNLU3Vcf4krK3VYaph7rpcsgLpT_9tPPZ4q-Mk3-4TFDLw49/s4608/DSCN6552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7ruFPcVEC63OUMynDLjhKedpZcIC3jzI5J2xQ3Xeh2QNDGG1ipCWEbbzXBOIBL1H9RL3cjCcfW91Yh9B8k8q5eaDDzncuYvTij5EE0ccD_EEwpx04Q_17uVcIqYL_MJYteodBvLXRNLU3Vcf4krK3VYaph7rpcsgLpT_9tPPZ4q-Mk3-4TFDLw49/s320/DSCN6552.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Unfortunately, time ran out on us and the woman we bought our tickets from earlier in the day came to pick us up in a golf cart so they could close the gates. On the ride back to the exit she told us stories of people hiding on the grounds in an effort to spend the night there (probably up to no good). She said every inch of the grounds is monitored by cameras and anyone caught on the property after closing was arrested. She also told us that one night a black bear somehow made its way onto the grounds and had to be removed. <p></p><p>Once we left the estate, we made our way back "home" where we settled in for an evening of television and journaling. We tossed the remaining 2 states SEVERAL times and each time they either both landed face up or both face down. We were about to toss them once again when Lori's daughter, Meg, called. After chatting with her a bit, Kathi put one state on the windowsill and another on the TV stand and told Meg to pick windowsill or table and whichever piece was on what she chose, would be where we go next year. Meg chose the windowsill, which held the South Carolina piece, so South Carolina it is next year!!</p><p><br /></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-50209347668573907862022-10-20T17:09:00.002-07:002022-10-20T17:09:40.208-07:00Girls Weekend 2022. Tuesday, October 18. Ladew Topiary Gardens, Monkton, Maryland<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFpruhyfWHOZgHQUErZmz4rPD6GHM2MldC3lDnv7fN7TXLJ_xyrS3IiU_xGD0E3UgWXCC9MLgLY59r0IE5wFkGKrL670b12PXZzfGJBrEcDniVd8epiE_FSZWSSNG4cGHXM6TC9PMA68bQSz1nGaj_yUEUIOnuof4jcsLRDhueqkfmo6IucSjb3DBV/s4608/DSCN6438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFpruhyfWHOZgHQUErZmz4rPD6GHM2MldC3lDnv7fN7TXLJ_xyrS3IiU_xGD0E3UgWXCC9MLgLY59r0IE5wFkGKrL670b12PXZzfGJBrEcDniVd8epiE_FSZWSSNG4cGHXM6TC9PMA68bQSz1nGaj_yUEUIOnuof4jcsLRDhueqkfmo6IucSjb3DBV/s320/DSCN6438.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Tuesday, October 18, 2022<p></p><p>(written by Kathi)</p><p><br /></p><p>Today we were up at 7:30 and spent the morning journaling and listening to music. Lori always brings her Alexa and we take turns asking for music genres. This morning the choices were Motown, 1960s music, 1980s R&B, and Cat Stevens. We clearly seek variety in our listening! Breakfast was yogurt, granola, and fruit—we ran out of eggs and it’s too late in the week to buy more because we won’t be able to eat them all before we leave. After a while we started the “ok, time to get ready” routine of showering, dressing, and making lunch. Megan, our new friend, arrived before noon and parked in our driveway. She joined us in our car, and we were off on today’s adventure.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IcbfXPDSK-qnTM5vKBOmlieUcy68llGSNxSAQioo1LXCedJz8lbnXO7iXm7SqE-ulrYAcgvVrv5WWz9dghHGo60q7YJhLLBeKRzEv5fIJZ-kjpij1zBaqkEKzANN_wl5KrwnBEgYgUuN36l_MG5EtfCWFebO_S3e_v9NaOhluREBsbcN3ZPTEGGI/s4608/DSCN6465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_IcbfXPDSK-qnTM5vKBOmlieUcy68llGSNxSAQioo1LXCedJz8lbnXO7iXm7SqE-ulrYAcgvVrv5WWz9dghHGo60q7YJhLLBeKRzEv5fIJZ-kjpij1zBaqkEKzANN_wl5KrwnBEgYgUuN36l_MG5EtfCWFebO_S3e_v9NaOhluREBsbcN3ZPTEGGI/s320/DSCN6465.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p>It’s Maryland day! At first we thought we would go to Baltimore for the day, but we decided not to deal with any traffic, and we knew we would spend hours and hours there. As we age, we have definitely had to acknowledge that spending a 10- or 12-hour day out and about constantly moving means that my ankle and Lori’s knee will be very angry the next day. So, we decided to rethink our plan. We always enjoy gardens (and you can usually sit down somewhere and take a break in them when you get tired, and Lori had found what appeared to be an interesting spot—Ladew Topiary Gardens in Monkton, Maryland.</p><p><br /></p><p>I was driving and Lori was navigating. Megan was in the back seat. Lori and I had a great time grilling Megan about her life as a dresser on Broadway, and also about her many travels. We learned that Megan, who is also trying to get to all fifty states, has a wee bit different outlook than we do on what criteria is required to cross off a state. Lori and I will call a state done as long as we spend a good number of hours . . . say, five or more.. . . in it experiencing something unique to that state. Like driving through beautiful countryside to spend a few hours in a topiary garden, you know, something like that. However, Megan—who is apparently a severely overachieving millennial—does not cross a state off her list until she has done or seen everything in it that appeals to her. Yikes! And when we thought about how she was a rock star in the Escape Room last night, we definitely could have felt inferior. Instead, we’re just happy there are people with that much energy and drive left in the world. It gives us hope! Go, Megan! Meanwhile, we are definitely crossing off Maryland today.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0hZBlgdRU-QvnkSDbV3kuq3_veYbfWHFmiy_sUz3drjjXcujPizNQtalqYJBhKgYo3C337B_pHdcfUxMoYcPJWRjZdQ5GfTr4rdGNAL6yna27v5z0NN5y8qbX1yO7GaH_CNmDsoPn-UElZ_otTQkTusgiHgxY828DGgvO2mT7ztOrbfOJXoZ0yn6/s4445/DSCN6476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4445" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0hZBlgdRU-QvnkSDbV3kuq3_veYbfWHFmiy_sUz3drjjXcujPizNQtalqYJBhKgYo3C337B_pHdcfUxMoYcPJWRjZdQ5GfTr4rdGNAL6yna27v5z0NN5y8qbX1yO7GaH_CNmDsoPn-UElZ_otTQkTusgiHgxY828DGgvO2mT7ztOrbfOJXoZ0yn6/s320/DSCN6476.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>The drive was supposed to be less than 90 minutes, but a series of events conspired to add a bit of extra time. First of all, we were talking a mile a minute as soon as we set off. Siri got ignored a couple of times, turns were missed, and she had to reroute. This happened more than once; I would even say it happened a few times. When we missed some direction or another, we never turned around to go back, we just let Siri do some rerouting. It’s a great feeling to not have to rush to be somewhere, and just go with the flow. This strategy, combined with deciding to stop at a gas station to go to the bathroom and get some snacks and drinks, resulted in adding slightly over an hour to our drive.</p><p><br /></p><p>We weren’t worried about any of these things, because Lori had informed us the gardens were open until 9:00 pm (we figured they must be really well lit or something.) We did not arrive at Ladew until 2:30 pm. No matter, we had all kinds of time. So, we got out of the car and were walking up to buy our tickets when we saw the sign that said the gardens would close at 4:00 pm. And it was a permanent sign, it wasn’t like there was a wedding or something and they had to close early. Poor Lori was so confused. She was positive the website said 9:00. God clearly wanted us to have that great time in the car, and we weren’t supposed to have a lot of time to enjoy the topiary. This was proven when, after we had found a beautiful little area with some benches where we ate our lunch, the sun went away for good, and the day turned very chilly.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Pfl564aHq1muh5CbA7grXPID9CleP_Td6bdLPtKP7BMLKGhNKgE2hoh8G6OGvxrnfzPS1gJIMkVgVwPN32mXPmj4OQRaWgAyDvumc5aDuyZdIOMBjLJ7eXbnLr6fRPReE9v6Z3mZefEvtohyd5wLXTBIHz2ix0z6FFp0hyXlMDXQrvKxbDnXgKHy/s4602/DSCN6450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2415" data-original-width="4602" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Pfl564aHq1muh5CbA7grXPID9CleP_Td6bdLPtKP7BMLKGhNKgE2hoh8G6OGvxrnfzPS1gJIMkVgVwPN32mXPmj4OQRaWgAyDvumc5aDuyZdIOMBjLJ7eXbnLr6fRPReE9v6Z3mZefEvtohyd5wLXTBIHz2ix0z6FFp0hyXlMDXQrvKxbDnXgKHy/s320/DSCN6450.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p>We very much enjoyed exploring the gardens; there were still many flowers in bloom and there were some wonderfully fun topiary art pieces. As we walked around we saw so many clever bush carvings of animals, people, and geometric shape groupings. The gardens also had beautiful mature trees, fountains, and a quaint little wooden tea house the owner had brought back from London (not a miniature, a full sized tea house. Think large backyard shed sized.) By 4:00 we were downright cold and could not have stayed outside another minute. We gratefully piled back into the car and headed home . . . directly home this time, not the circuitous route.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyPJkLz9uT-nrzxePl0MFe5HianhZRFy-ChbSPKBWfxG02Hptt3n011ZYC4KqIANNwuUsYL23CUfDbJufGo4UaYeINdCNIo416kASNIT-MpBCLAdCHr3UCw6xsQWN_vZTTTmsq_YAhkOvmiL3F1DwyRgVEWRbL-xUImbgRnCckapGhe_Xu4N4RGPU/s4529/DSCN6449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4529" data-original-width="3397" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyPJkLz9uT-nrzxePl0MFe5HianhZRFy-ChbSPKBWfxG02Hptt3n011ZYC4KqIANNwuUsYL23CUfDbJufGo4UaYeINdCNIo416kASNIT-MpBCLAdCHr3UCw6xsQWN_vZTTTmsq_YAhkOvmiL3F1DwyRgVEWRbL-xUImbgRnCckapGhe_Xu4N4RGPU/s320/DSCN6449.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Back at our Airbnb we bid Megan goodbye and safe travels (she had to drive back to NYC the next day) and went inside. I cooked dinner (chicken breasts, carrots, and more couscous) and we ate while watching some TV. Oops! We forgot to toss the states tonight. Actually, the real story is that since Lori fell asleep on the sofa and then got up only long enough to stagger off to bed, there was not really an opportunity to toss them. We’ll just do it tomorrow morning.</p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-37659261923627628542022-10-19T08:48:00.000-07:002022-10-19T08:48:08.823-07:00Girls Weekend 25. Monday, October 17. Back to Hagley<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0AowzwBY1i783qOMe68sL5deVnfjlOITGmLGmBykXqMYVgkjhBJL__qSlcHAxyZ9UQ2qlIki4krtJL-0rxdjVCb3NSHYGn4VVt7ENqiti3zkbxz3dJZVlMcR21yyLkNpGKMlDa6ixuQYWTQu9V9DHd8GlZ98E5CiZHAf2DrFGefYSs6Bec6dnEh7a/s4032/7F4FE71C-300E-4615-A3CE-6591E24819B5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0AowzwBY1i783qOMe68sL5deVnfjlOITGmLGmBykXqMYVgkjhBJL__qSlcHAxyZ9UQ2qlIki4krtJL-0rxdjVCb3NSHYGn4VVt7ENqiti3zkbxz3dJZVlMcR21yyLkNpGKMlDa6ixuQYWTQu9V9DHd8GlZ98E5CiZHAf2DrFGefYSs6Bec6dnEh7a/s320/7F4FE71C-300E-4615-A3CE-6591E24819B5.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lori on the bank of the Brandywine River</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div>When we were mapping out our plan for our week here, we planned on today being a "rest" day. Partly because we just don't have the energy and stamina that we had in our younger years and partly because rain was in the forecast for today. Instead, we opted to return to Hagley Museum because we felt that we missed so much there when we went on Friday, so that became the plan for the day. Ultimately, we were so glad we made that change in our plans because, while a bit cooler, it turned out to be a beautifully stunning day. We are often blessed with amazing weather while on these trips and today was no exception.</div><div><br /></div><div>The morning was spent catching up on e-mails as well as catching up with the rest of the world on our laptops. After another round of cheesy scrambled eggs for breakfast, courtesy of Lori, we showered and got ready for our further exploration of the grounds of Hagley. Kathi made the turkey and cheese sandwiches for lunch today, packed them up along with some potato chips and Chips Ahoy chunky chocolate chip cookies and out the door we went.</div><div><br /></div><div>Upon arrival, we first went into the gift shop for a browse around since we were able to spend so little time there on our original visit. We agree that museum gift shops are often the best because they tend to have unique and unusual items for sale. This one proved that theory to be true. Lori bought a couple of packs of photo-sensitive paper, sold under the name of "Suntography" that can be used to produce cyanotypes. Basically you place the object of your choice on the paper (leaves, for example) expose it to several hours of sunlight, rinse with water and you will have a bluish toned print of the object on the paper. Lori bought a kit for both herself and her 4 year old grandson Beckett and looks forward to playing around with it.</div><div><br /></div><div>We left the gift shop, and after dropping off our purchases in the car, started walking up the road. This was the same road that the shuttle used on Friday to take us to the mansion. The road passes the powder yard where E.I. du Pont founded a gunpowder works along the shore of the Brandywine River in 1802. This was the part of this site that we returned for. Between the company’s founding in 1802 and 1840, the yards expanded twice to include three dams, upper and lower mill races, dozens of mill buildings, and over a mile of infrastructure, much of which can still be seen today. Throughout the walk through the yards one can see 19th century machinery in the machine shop, waterwheels and turbines powered by the river and the historic stone structures where the powder was manufactured. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0FJur7pviPi5GEsnXEd1ESQrRXjRCk08h82OL5g11BmU1n1hCrqfZwC7ikEi-zwmxKnshgOcnjyYxFTbnj8SV4RnoJOwcycrFB1SeQw3BU-0CkvMX8u2Rs3vZJVyld9XRZgC7VuH4L9XDjQIiQXS1DRAF2470KasKgSe0R6iEQHhaun8wSz2WRuC2/s5176/5B8C1074-17B9-422F-B10F-EDED2A892ADD_1_201_a.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3924" data-original-width="5176" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0FJur7pviPi5GEsnXEd1ESQrRXjRCk08h82OL5g11BmU1n1hCrqfZwC7ikEi-zwmxKnshgOcnjyYxFTbnj8SV4RnoJOwcycrFB1SeQw3BU-0CkvMX8u2Rs3vZJVyld9XRZgC7VuH4L9XDjQIiQXS1DRAF2470KasKgSe0R6iEQHhaun8wSz2WRuC2/s320/5B8C1074-17B9-422F-B10F-EDED2A892ADD_1_201_a.heic" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the row of stone structures where the powder was manufactured</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>The stone for these structures was all quarried from the property and is beautiful blue gneiss. So the powder works employed not only powder men, but also quarry workers, farmers and teachers, to name a few. It was essentially a small community unto itself.</div><div><br /></div><div><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgShyPQVIQ3aq7jGP0gXt4e0yOivFTL5jKWGeV6eJ9NB3Zj33GTWdZHhB21JVARP_gNuFMYwYcCppqNnjoDNz2TwA9_DsAgDCGQPZwaT0cvj4v9ZA7a_rY2SvtzfpJi6iWPDbH2ed6C_AYaBAUTJ55hF8oKBgAgpvHTf11GxDyr0Rh1VbeSPqckStXt/s320/DSCN6399.JPG" width="320" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYmdmcUGZ_IKD9A84lS1JZaO5OYF3t3zudMgUJ6_5q3vT5QDgG6F1xd4TwziH92trmkrD81dHoHx3npm6bHM3B-g_covOfKOd6wmhLCxgRrM5aCZE4peOwtqOZ-YucR8XA-Sjtiw412HpxcrnIs2qnN1k0LZwwjclws34q3LVLTTmrXccIYfHmHea8/s4608/DSCN6398.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYmdmcUGZ_IKD9A84lS1JZaO5OYF3t3zudMgUJ6_5q3vT5QDgG6F1xd4TwziH92trmkrD81dHoHx3npm6bHM3B-g_covOfKOd6wmhLCxgRrM5aCZE4peOwtqOZ-YucR8XA-Sjtiw412HpxcrnIs2qnN1k0LZwwjclws34q3LVLTTmrXccIYfHmHea8/s320/DSCN6398.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>We walked along the river exploring all of the buildings that were open and available to us. Most of the buildings no longer house the equipment used to produce gunpowder as the federal government came in and took nearly all of the metal they could get their hands on in order to produce weapons for World War 2. There is a quiet, haunting quality and beauty to these empty stone structures.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There is one black powder roll mill left on the property which is currently down for maintenance, but when working they run for demonstrations. The roll mill utilizes two 8 ton rolling stones in a large wooden bowl where the ingredients to make the black powder, (charcoal, sulfur and saltpeter) were ground together. Producing black powder was a dangerous business and during the years that the powder yard was in operation there were 288 explosions and 228 deaths.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSh9AKB3hY1S8nQrX_GDyKQWMjKAlDtJTHoZkh3WfQ5PfTgI06DRnd_hxXaRGIfr8VNznDA-6Ha39rOR8L6NmYNQDs1yMIBKu1eQ_0iaFZL36M6TzxBmi4i4Aa32Y8NZ9P_aJjAm58PO__xQ1SDYP5Y0_yYNNqhCE_lIBZRCU7OJi1XYRDuc6G3xzD/s4608/DSCN6402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSh9AKB3hY1S8nQrX_GDyKQWMjKAlDtJTHoZkh3WfQ5PfTgI06DRnd_hxXaRGIfr8VNznDA-6Ha39rOR8L6NmYNQDs1yMIBKu1eQ_0iaFZL36M6TzxBmi4i4Aa32Y8NZ9P_aJjAm58PO__xQ1SDYP5Y0_yYNNqhCE_lIBZRCU7OJi1XYRDuc6G3xzD/s320/DSCN6402.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the roll mill</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DLYzBGZdG6kaHWFWx1vZPxsqqfrfrJ9U4obMwC0HDu5Id0xowz4lbe9lbuEFRioWZLa2r6Zge3oaWUTb6NwEUBRY_U2atyGGTZJCa_Ld8kKhmQz1pChx0-smSqs0OpLC3O9ZAytfu5raPl0uzUgpyf-z_xivU7EIfse37A37u5UmWyLiZzNEeVuV/s4608/DSCN6403.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DLYzBGZdG6kaHWFWx1vZPxsqqfrfrJ9U4obMwC0HDu5Id0xowz4lbe9lbuEFRioWZLa2r6Zge3oaWUTb6NwEUBRY_U2atyGGTZJCa_Ld8kKhmQz1pChx0-smSqs0OpLC3O9ZAytfu5raPl0uzUgpyf-z_xivU7EIfse37A37u5UmWyLiZzNEeVuV/s320/DSCN6403.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the tools used to add the ingredients to the bowl</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>In 1920 an explosion involving 50,000 to 75,00 pounds of powder caused major structural damage throughout the site and the resulting shockwave was felt in Northern Delaware, Southern New Jersey and Philadelphia. For reference, one ounce (30 grams; think a tube of hydrocortisone cream) of black powder could hurl a 24 pound cannon ball 225 yards or more. The damage wrought by this explosion was too much to overcome and brought about the demise of the powder mill. While the DuPont company continued to make explosives until 1981, it was no longer the focus of the company whose products now include Kevlar, Tyvek and Styrofoam to name a few.</div><div><br /></div><div>Due to the danger and risk involved with working in the powder mill, most locals were too afraid to work there so DuPont brought many workers to this country from Ireland and Italy, offering good wages, affordable housing, savings plans and insurance for the workers' families. Uphill from the powder yard are several residences as well as a school in the Workers' Hill Community, where many of the workers lived.</div><div><br /></div><div>After looking around many of the powder yard buildings we went back to the car to grab our sack lunches and eat at picnic tables near the gift shop. While there, a couple joined us at the picnic tables for their lunch and we struck up a conversation with them. They were visiting from New Jersey and told us of many great places to visit in New Jersey should we have time. They mentioned Cape May, Lewes as well as Rehoboth Beach in Delaware. Unfortunately we don't have enough time to visit any of these places, but will definitely keep in mind for any future travels to this area.</div><div><br /></div><div>We then returned to the powder yard via a path that was further up the hill but paralleled the riverside trail so we could continue our exploration and attend the demonstrations. This trail took us through the woods above the powder yard, affording us a different view of both the powder yard and the Brandywine River. </div><div><br /></div><div>We arrived just in time for the 3 o'clock demonstration at the machine shop. Many of the machines used during the productive years of the powder mill are still here and it was fascinating to see them and how they were powered by water. After looking around the shop itself for a bit, the guide pointed out the main power shaft that was overhead in the building from which all of the machines in the shop were made operational through various levers, pulleys, gears, inclined planes, and wheels and axles once the main shaft was set into rotation by opening the mill race and allowing water in to turn the turbines. We stepped outside where he showed us the mill race and how it was connected to the shaft which was set in motion by the water. <br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOeJTSM9oPhpPUa173zI5J0-ZLeP5xDtDe3yOBcOXeLXJyLXnSE7ZOVlq-gjHD8Fhc84aYe6MD1QGzt92ClM5OET5nLFJq84y-n7syeHe8O5Yxw3fUVMCXFn9CwZRsZdoT3OE_149e6OlkBTJzocrNrULvb9bBI2g8anKDseUP2vON-sllIg8xy_-_/s4032/IMG_0403.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOeJTSM9oPhpPUa173zI5J0-ZLeP5xDtDe3yOBcOXeLXJyLXnSE7ZOVlq-gjHD8Fhc84aYe6MD1QGzt92ClM5OET5nLFJq84y-n7syeHe8O5Yxw3fUVMCXFn9CwZRsZdoT3OE_149e6OlkBTJzocrNrULvb9bBI2g8anKDseUP2vON-sllIg8xy_-_/s320/IMG_0403.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the machine shop</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn1e4QuVVursJtGnzorp_N2WbQHMLyn0wLTPXFKSsuOsv-RD4iknGyNSLI36k9K_kcl7GMHxeKNWy6YKm9AvdF0kUw1Du1-6Sp_lHK_8lsxmnDQYBe86RnYT19GTSdUXGJlAP9LYqKAfXYnA6kTwr3rXTvVJEWRlMQ4WfXR5P8dTp0FCUyEfeMfgnv/s4032/IMG_0405.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn1e4QuVVursJtGnzorp_N2WbQHMLyn0wLTPXFKSsuOsv-RD4iknGyNSLI36k9K_kcl7GMHxeKNWy6YKm9AvdF0kUw1Du1-6Sp_lHK_8lsxmnDQYBe86RnYT19GTSdUXGJlAP9LYqKAfXYnA6kTwr3rXTvVJEWRlMQ4WfXR5P8dTp0FCUyEfeMfgnv/s320/IMG_0405.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the mill race</span></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK683VeAqqaZJU5CtVDA63nyldx6F9grOy8DwB4QdXja_TO94VpSi1M8HoyRFEKVZwK3ZsOAq007QTvKT_8X_PcNzMCXXJktHTTxOGD_dgo1xJ-VQwJp0n9hNCXa8WKns5FAc0LEPuu7mKmVzdkaSIw_LUYYp68AffN7A4zdS2OOHgT-5G2wC5XVJG/s4032/IMG_0404.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK683VeAqqaZJU5CtVDA63nyldx6F9grOy8DwB4QdXja_TO94VpSi1M8HoyRFEKVZwK3ZsOAq007QTvKT_8X_PcNzMCXXJktHTTxOGD_dgo1xJ-VQwJp0n9hNCXa8WKns5FAc0LEPuu7mKmVzdkaSIw_LUYYp68AffN7A4zdS2OOHgT-5G2wC5XVJG/s320/IMG_0404.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the rope and wheel system that power the shaft</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Once the demonstration was over, Kathi and another young woman stayed behind to ask questions of the guide regarding how some of the mechanisms worked. The young woman, Megan, then joined us for the rest of the demonstration which included an explanation of how the mill race at the powder mill operated a turbine, which in turn operated the rolling stones that mixed the ingredients that the powder was made of. Unfortunately the turbine is not currently working, likely due to debris from recent flooding being stuck in it, so we were not able to see a working demonstration of this process. We were, however, able to see a demonstration of the explosion that one ounce of black powder can produce when lit. Not only was the explosion loud, but it also created quite a bit of smoke!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOR7Dlo-TKnsQRdyuQcO_4felLccwKRpSv4W1aqzBEU33OGUEXxcJ5m-MJHG6IyoXVk_U7EnvluoL5N2lnstXJ6UIxA7VATopZSIQRWOSx35GfislXxtS0_p0P2lpxdkWyxc8ViePyJnXf36UsTj2cJV_1jZRkI7srvu2rZmzXfHLXhKO7AYoADqT/s4608/DSCN6422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOR7Dlo-TKnsQRdyuQcO_4felLccwKRpSv4W1aqzBEU33OGUEXxcJ5m-MJHG6IyoXVk_U7EnvluoL5N2lnstXJ6UIxA7VATopZSIQRWOSx35GfislXxtS0_p0P2lpxdkWyxc8ViePyJnXf36UsTj2cJV_1jZRkI7srvu2rZmzXfHLXhKO7AYoADqT/s320/DSCN6422.jpg" width="240" /></a></div> <div>With about 30 minutes left before the buildings all closed we made our way back to the visitor center where the "Nation of Inventors" exhibit is located. We HAD to browse here, since that was what first peaked our interest about this place! The small working models of various inventions was quite fascinating. As we were being shooed out of the building at closing time, we mentioned to Megan that we were doing an escape room at 6pm and asked if she would like to join us. She said that she had never done one, had always wanted to do one and agreed to become part of our team.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HzXOrSUgsHa5LGWZ5a0HcgF9w5yN85D9MSI-SSuuCxzIr7lrye6barUZMLg7UkA4Hmqw3CaRgbWyZ3_kXiUisKs3j2ni7vJ5MwfAZbfLthoBEwE0ovuwpG7C3GLYLVNwvs3sSdYgYKTP37_tttGy9rCEA7kwHo7S1pgHTzhPF2X6n0XLVJGvke8c/s4032/IMG_0439.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HzXOrSUgsHa5LGWZ5a0HcgF9w5yN85D9MSI-SSuuCxzIr7lrye6barUZMLg7UkA4Hmqw3CaRgbWyZ3_kXiUisKs3j2ni7vJ5MwfAZbfLthoBEwE0ovuwpG7C3GLYLVNwvs3sSdYgYKTP37_tttGy9rCEA7kwHo7S1pgHTzhPF2X6n0XLVJGvke8c/s320/IMG_0439.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Our new friend, Megan!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The Escape Room: Criminal Capture-The Zodiac Killer</div><div><br /></div><div>Any of you who follow Girls Weekend and read our journals from year to year know, that while we really enjoy doing escape rooms, we seem to be not so great at getting out of them! With the advent of COVID, most escape rooms no longer just throw a bunch of people together to reach the maximum number of people allowed in the escape room. We have found, however, that the more people who are working the clues and who work as a team, the greater the chance for success. This being said, we were very excited that Megan accepted our invitation and agreed to join us so we would have three brains working on the clues rather than just two and she proved to be a HUGE asset! While Kathi and I seem to have spent the majority of the hour decoding four ciphers that we found (that proved to be mostly useless!), Megan was solving most of the clues using tidbits of information that we were able to throw her way along with finding answers on her own. The premise of this escape room was to thwart a serial killer, who had already claimed 4 victims, using the clues scattered about and hidden away in his cabin where he hid out and kept "trophies" from his kills. We were ONE clue away from breaking the case when we ran out of time. So, once again, even with the help of our new friend, Megan, we failed, but we still had fun trying!!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9-8lx2KtKxvE4oDiO7yTmBGOBeK9XiF9748o9wl7Tm3AzlDhkzY-I-eroIaIrElaDKmS38SYitSPWY1T2JbiG9XW_2Fe8Oyq3YpP-LiI4vfhWfHzo9ItqLXz44HWdazHUhQfi1whJfodpFH1Cn2FqqXh_20CpXGhSUk2Sv5vhuN0VIORlDKA4ULF/s2646/33A7BFF6-E5E5-432E-933E-4644632B6D34_1_201_a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2646" data-original-width="2268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9-8lx2KtKxvE4oDiO7yTmBGOBeK9XiF9748o9wl7Tm3AzlDhkzY-I-eroIaIrElaDKmS38SYitSPWY1T2JbiG9XW_2Fe8Oyq3YpP-LiI4vfhWfHzo9ItqLXz44HWdazHUhQfi1whJfodpFH1Cn2FqqXh_20CpXGhSUk2Sv5vhuN0VIORlDKA4ULF/s320/33A7BFF6-E5E5-432E-933E-4644632B6D34_1_201_a.jpeg" width="274" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the crime stopping team</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />While chatting with Megan and learning more about her while waiting for our escape room experience to begin, we learned that she lives in New York City where she works wardrobe on Broadway shows. This, of course, was very exciting because of Kathi's background in theater and the fact that she is an Equity member. Megan also shares our love and travel and has the same goal that we do of visiting all 50 states. No wonder we like her so much! In fact we enjoyed her company so much that we invited her to join us in tomorrow's excursion to the Ladew Topiary Gardens in Maryland, and she said yes!</div><div><br /></div><div>We parted ways with plans to meet tomorrow for our trip to Maryland and we made our way back to our temporary home. There, we had leftovers of pork chops, couscous and asparagus, did some typing and tossed the states. Once again, both states landed face down so we are still in suspense over next year's destination. Then lights out to rest up for tomorrow's adventure.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /></div></div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-23568536713301169892022-10-17T07:11:00.001-07:002022-10-22T07:35:18.374-07:00Girls Weekend 2022. Sunday, October 16; Winterthur Estate and Marian Coffin Gardens<p>Sunday, October 16, 2022</p><p>(written by Kathi)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNNHKYBKCANpPN7oxw8EmClAIY4PjVNqe08V2lUpxZI8ZC01lj_8cGnICyijnUvKlyzmkf-52y9Or2IfR9Dpmm6jIyWpNVWKJOHhZa7VWzvz9m6_Kk5S8ycXPSbPoEGAjJcXlpPZ4XlLcvDI94Jrk32IjLHnkOOg5gLKqwYpGhfem4Nfe7heFv7UT/s4032/IMG_0266.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNNHKYBKCANpPN7oxw8EmClAIY4PjVNqe08V2lUpxZI8ZC01lj_8cGnICyijnUvKlyzmkf-52y9Or2IfR9Dpmm6jIyWpNVWKJOHhZa7VWzvz9m6_Kk5S8ycXPSbPoEGAjJcXlpPZ4XlLcvDI94Jrk32IjLHnkOOg5gLKqwYpGhfem4Nfe7heFv7UT/s320/IMG_0266.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Warning: this is a long one, so grab a cup of coffee or something. The other day I told Lori I was going to work on not writing so extensively for the GW journal. Big fail.</p><p><br /></p><p>We were up and about a little earlier today, about 7:30, closer to our usual GW rising time. For breakfast we enjoyed yogurt and the delicious farmers market granola. This morning Lori and I were determined to leave the house earlier, so we were efficient about our morning routines. We had our lunches packed and were ready to leave in time to arrive at our chosen destination before noon.</p><p><br /></p><p>Today we explored another du Pont family home. Let me give you a bit of background first. Pierre Samuel du Pont de Nemours (1739 – 1817) was a French-American writer, economist, publisher, and government official who emigrated with his two sons to the U.S. during the French Revolution. One of those sons, Éleuthère Irénée du Pont (a.k.a. E. I.) founded a company that eventually became one of the America’s most successful and wealthiest business dynasties of the 19th and 20th centuries. Whenever we write about visiting a du Pont estate, we will be referring to someone in E. I.’s line of succession. E. I. was a chemist with an expertise in making gunpowder. The family came to the U.S. with supplies of gunpowder that eventually ran out. When E.I. realized how much poorer quality the gunpowder was here in comparison to that made in France, he launched his company and subsequently made a fortune manufacturing gunpowder and later glass, paint, textiles, chemicals . . . the list goes on. Each of the massive du Pont family homes we have visited here in Wilmington have been built and owned by members of E. I.’s progeny.</p><p><br /></p><p>E. I. and his wife Sophie had seven children—three sons and four daughters. One of them, Henry (a.k.a. Big Red, 1812 - 1889) was the first president of the gunpowder business. Big Red, who with his wife Louisa had eight children, was succeeded as company president by his son (E. I.’s grandson) Henry Algernon (1838 – 1926). Meanwhile, some of E. I.’s other heirs had sold off hundreds of acres of the original ginormous parcel of the family’s land to a business partner, Jacques Bidermann (1790 – 1865), who happened to be married to one of Big Red’s sisters, Angelina. Jacques was from Winterthur, Switzerland. He and Angelina used their newly acquired family land to build a huge house on a massive estate, and in honor of Jacques’ birthplace, named it Winterthur (the “h” is silent, by the way).</p><p><br /></p><p>Jacques and Angelina (du Pont) had a son, James, who inherited Winterthur upon his father’s death. James apparently did not want the responsibility, and sold Winterthur to his uncle (his mother’s brother), Henry Algernon, son of . . . are you following along? Big Red. So, after Big Red dies in 1889, Henry Algernon owns all of Winterthur, AND all of Hagley, the property housing the gunpowder works and adjoining estate. He and his wife, Pauline, used Winterthur as a country home, converted the house to a French-style manor house, and added a fourth floor and yet another 900 acres to the property.</p><p><br /></p><p>Henry Algernon and Pauline had planned for a huge family and expanded their home and estate so that they would have plenty of room; however, in the end they had only two children who survived childhood: Louise du Pont Crowningshield (1877 – 1958) and Henry Francis (1880 – 1969). Pauline died in 1902, and Henry Algernon (who served in congress after the death of his wife) died in 1926. Henry Algernon left Hagley, which Lori and I explored on Day 2, to his daughter, and Winterthur to his son, who had been managing the estate since the death of his mother.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicfMrGCvAXNYAV3U6zhocE3EROjAW01Wrq7RdUW56PeW0MzvCCH2sGO-JYwo15B9rLQCAeg87obH3u43MO-QdIMcojxJpkMAZ4lHu9IzR3gKAE1C0hfReYPoEXVeO1s4rdY_qlslvD_sYaoM4mt1WeUk76fGR2td365mQ-LforRTuJ2rkVE6Gpy-nq/s3088/IMG_0210.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicfMrGCvAXNYAV3U6zhocE3EROjAW01Wrq7RdUW56PeW0MzvCCH2sGO-JYwo15B9rLQCAeg87obH3u43MO-QdIMcojxJpkMAZ4lHu9IzR3gKAE1C0hfReYPoEXVeO1s4rdY_qlslvD_sYaoM4mt1WeUk76fGR2td365mQ-LforRTuJ2rkVE6Gpy-nq/s320/IMG_0210.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />We arrived at Winterthur just before noon and bought our tickets. The buying of tickets is newsworthy because both Lori and I are now old enough to qualify for the rate for seniors at most museums! You would have thought we had won the lottery; we were so excited to pay the reduced rate. At any rate, after we bought our SENIOR RATE tickets, we boarded the garden tram, which would eventually deliver us to the amazing home of Henry Francis du Pont.<p></p><p><br /></p><p>The garden tram was open-sided and took a sinuous route from the visitor’s center to the main house through the 60 acres of naturalistic gardens planned and planted by Henry Francis du Pont with help from a female phenom gardener names Marian Coffin. The place is stunningly beautiful, even with very few flowers in bloom. Lori and I agreed that we would have called the rolling hills, forested areas, and meadows landscaping rather than gardens, but that is mostly attributed to the time of year and our rigid idea of what “gardens” are. Under the soil lurked 5 million bulbs that start sprouting every spring, carpet the fields and borders with color. There were still tons of hostas, hardy begonias, aster, and other blooms visible, but it all had an “organized wildness” vibe that tricked one into ignoring that decades of work had gone into the planning. Henry Francis, like so many other members of his family, was a naturalist who loved the outdoors. Our tram driver/guide seemed to know the name of every tree, bush, and ground carpet we passed, and he was delightful to listen to.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdMPQlUkcNk7pTstRukyeYvm60LphGP8jQCtpP97Y0oiMEqheBJDDj9cq9UYs6uGj_wxqrQKbBtyD7LaNqgqcD1NUF9c-713mJjI6ZEh2biOQadSPRCMWqmriaJ3ug_FR5Sp6lUSsYmLRAbXQ_D640ktVH2GyLq1ly9e0u8jlGU7Rybo-Tm0uWFAh/s4608/DSCN6340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdMPQlUkcNk7pTstRukyeYvm60LphGP8jQCtpP97Y0oiMEqheBJDDj9cq9UYs6uGj_wxqrQKbBtyD7LaNqgqcD1NUF9c-713mJjI6ZEh2biOQadSPRCMWqmriaJ3ug_FR5Sp6lUSsYmLRAbXQ_D640ktVH2GyLq1ly9e0u8jlGU7Rybo-Tm0uWFAh/s320/DSCN6340.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Winterthur Mansion</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgANuUw0ig1S_088vxo5gYPOi1tVsKLUSq8SoWQHOrOd-j6F2xka-orncpTAyFVQZYKOFVfmjulxvL8taEH_2hugF7A00uXrMTg5Sm4wYa_gVSLfm0wKgVtmZBeIsgueLhdOL9tv0cgji58E7NmOYxtLsCebHCaO13JT159wukPreth1QPRhyJQ9pjo/s4608/B8D8E3EA-08D9-4E9A-BA75-D08E349FDF0E_1_201_a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgANuUw0ig1S_088vxo5gYPOi1tVsKLUSq8SoWQHOrOd-j6F2xka-orncpTAyFVQZYKOFVfmjulxvL8taEH_2hugF7A00uXrMTg5Sm4wYa_gVSLfm0wKgVtmZBeIsgueLhdOL9tv0cgji58E7NmOYxtLsCebHCaO13JT159wukPreth1QPRhyJQ9pjo/s320/B8D8E3EA-08D9-4E9A-BA75-D08E349FDF0E_1_201_a.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Henry Francis established his enormous mansion as a public museum in 1951, and he moved into a smaller building on the grounds. The museum has now grown to hold galleries, lecture halls, and a library. Our tram delivered us first to the galleries housing two floors of furniture and artifacts not only from the big house, but also collected by the museum curators. I spent a lot of time in the first room of the galleries, which had clearly been fully redone since the pandemic. I know this not only because I asked the docent on duty, but because any Black communication scholar worth her salt would recognize the language on the walls, signs, and exhibits in this room to be acknowledgement of white privilege rarely seen lately, and certainly not before the summer of 2020. I was simultaneously amazed and appreciative of signs that began with questions such as, “Who should be involved in interpreting the themes of privilege and inequality portrayed by an object like this one?” This place has a fan for life.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-_UD2OdpRgmoKSGd076CRNn-nEFlpWZma4ZxICpgVzP3-PBReB6GfmSb5MdicMgtVCFpPMXQrHxxcKfMNam-3o5Lfo5lVdLX_ZTUQaWkJTfCmTYWyAMm1iQsZ5YiLbfjAVhOzaZf1iIil38eNTq4z_RMTMnXgTNxZTRvIAybYtq9etP5CkeemHaJd/s4608/DSCN6368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2885" data-original-width="4608" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-_UD2OdpRgmoKSGd076CRNn-nEFlpWZma4ZxICpgVzP3-PBReB6GfmSb5MdicMgtVCFpPMXQrHxxcKfMNam-3o5Lfo5lVdLX_ZTUQaWkJTfCmTYWyAMm1iQsZ5YiLbfjAVhOzaZf1iIil38eNTq4z_RMTMnXgTNxZTRvIAybYtq9etP5CkeemHaJd/s320/DSCN6368.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p>After visiting the galleries, we took a break to enjoy the sandwiches we had packed, then presented ourselves at the mansion. Our house tour began at 2:00 pm from the conservatory, which is a huge and beautiful completely glass structure on one end of the house. Henry Algernon and Pauline had expanded the home to 50 rooms, but son Henry Francis and his American furniture habit/obsession/addiction apparently needed way more room than that. In 1931 renovations were completed on the final expansion of Winterthur. Henry Francis added ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE ROOMS AND FOUR MORE FLOORS, increasing the total number of rooms to 175 (!!). To his credit, he and his architects did an amazing job of hiding the fact that the house was now as big as a small city. Rather then going up higher, he added floors underneath the four existing ones. The house was set into a hill, so Henry Francis moved down the hill, adding as he went, and not stopping until there were four additional floors. Oh, yeah, and an attic, although I’m not sure which Henry added the attic. Winterthur has been called the "largest and richest museum of American furniture and decorative arts in the world."</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxSjVDGX-gHWMF8eZiCLHMdmpLPV0R3XJbCapzs24BX42fDVMKhiypbLYCIkaUtX9C-YT-yubnydw7e40ohSLwd9S9OBSnjXw9reu_0fAk-KXLcAsnh56xjjndS6zZJxqj9IHOhF9hhIls-kmToTeN1ll2O8H6XBcb6n7KMRQk5aZtgO4do8tT-_RE/s4608/DSCN6336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxSjVDGX-gHWMF8eZiCLHMdmpLPV0R3XJbCapzs24BX42fDVMKhiypbLYCIkaUtX9C-YT-yubnydw7e40ohSLwd9S9OBSnjXw9reu_0fAk-KXLcAsnh56xjjndS6zZJxqj9IHOhF9hhIls-kmToTeN1ll2O8H6XBcb6n7KMRQk5aZtgO4do8tT-_RE/s320/DSCN6336.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Because of this stair-stepping architecture, the “ground floor” through which we entered is in actuality now the fifth floor of the house, topping the four that had been added below. The tour encompassed this fifth floor and part of the fourth floor. Henry Francis fell in love with American furniture during the time he was managing Winterthur for his father. Now that he owned the home outright, he filled each of this seemingly endless supply of rooms with traditional and antique American furniture pieces. LOTS of them. The rooms are kept exactly as they were when Henry Francis died, and although there is room to walk through them, you don’t want to swing your arms too heartily or some precious antique will go flying. One of the docents informed us that there are over 90,000 separate, catalogued items in this house, and 19,000 of them are pieces of china. Having just moved seven months ago, and still feeling somewhat traumatized by the experience, the thought of actually owning that much stuff takes the air out of my lungs.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiDhm0Whxj3mMOTayZiJU8r2-8G6FmxBAcRBmNAyEbrziLB1R2xCwFUL25p-5pYaif4nLBiSfoEGEMgRxN38J7R5ISAGv16DPTIXaWbeyMFfS4C5oCXuuEZMWCGHoYotYzf79c6Tn5flMuBASVyylB_ipwlz0N_2U6jPmdeofG9f9Pl2RIqFSXgx0/s4032/IMG_0232.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiDhm0Whxj3mMOTayZiJU8r2-8G6FmxBAcRBmNAyEbrziLB1R2xCwFUL25p-5pYaif4nLBiSfoEGEMgRxN38J7R5ISAGv16DPTIXaWbeyMFfS4C5oCXuuEZMWCGHoYotYzf79c6Tn5flMuBASVyylB_ipwlz0N_2U6jPmdeofG9f9Pl2RIqFSXgx0/s320/IMG_0232.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p>After exiting the house at the end of the tour (on a lower floor and different side than where we entered) we walked through some of the grounds, including the reflection pool (formerly a full cement swimming pool) and the enchanted forest Henry Francis created in one of his gardens for all the workers’ children living on the estate. There was also a lovely, shaded, secluded area with a couple of koi ponds under a cool canopy of trees. We could have stayed in that space all day, relaxing with a book. On one of the previous days of this trip, Lori and I had talked about wanting to see a fox, and the tram driver had told us the place was full of them. When we walked into the koi pond area there were two women standing there, who told us they had just seen a fox standing right there on the steps, literally 30 seconds before. We missed him. When we left the water area and were headed back to where our car was parked, a couple was walking toward us. They said they had just seen a fox and asked if we had seen him! Of course, we had to answer no. Apparently, fox is the new moose, the other animal who successfully evaded us for 20 years.</p><p><br /></p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWbP7LC3_IEmS0k8XVpDMprxp4R6indEswNd1ZZVQcZzAoziPntqM1doAg8LiHla2S2tlueHNvRTT7FUHFVSZurfGQPtNFLQ3IJvCEdIupP8zOpnElyndJFoW7QVxmej6yDr_ONSlPr5njh6oBS6ek4iyLwOWIJnldYN6xNilod_rO1iGQO7oR2jv/s3541/DSCN6380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3541" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWbP7LC3_IEmS0k8XVpDMprxp4R6indEswNd1ZZVQcZzAoziPntqM1doAg8LiHla2S2tlueHNvRTT7FUHFVSZurfGQPtNFLQ3IJvCEdIupP8zOpnElyndJFoW7QVxmej6yDr_ONSlPr5njh6oBS6ek4iyLwOWIJnldYN6xNilod_rO1iGQO7oR2jv/s320/DSCN6380.jpg" width="312" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Marian Coffin gardens</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Lori and I walked back to our car, passing the now closed visitor’s center and outbuildings, and drove out of the parking lot at about 5:15. We decided we could squeeze in one more thing we wanted to see, so we headed to Marian Coffin Garden. These gardens were designed by the same woman who had helped Henry Francis design some of the Winterthur gardens, and Lori came across them in her research. They are attached to another large mansion in Wilmington which, unsurprisingly, also has a du Pont connection (purchased in 1909 by Isabella Mathieu du Pont; 1882 – 1946, great-granddaughter of E. I. and 3rd cousin to Henry Francis and Louise). The mansion is abandoned and literally falling apart, but a Delaware state organization collects funds to help preserve the garden. This place is not nearly as large as the other behemoths we have visited here, and seems really tucked away, but apparently it is well known as a spot for photos. There were four separate professional photographers taking photos of an engaged couple, a 5-year old birthday girl, a young couple with a new baby, and what was likely a young violinist taking senior pictures. We explored as much as we could while avoiding these groups, then left.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2-kWicjPoHp3vTFbx1cZd3yOGRhfPrlgAR0StcBY9-gx1V-mbHP_J1zmhf8ismHvvbdRGcNGlPBMSDLDCKU41_aLjY108hqO48bwpyVFeNh6j4NewwOy25e_nYwQtKFH-kc_QVSi635ZyuoeYuLhrjXyfZchfgpRx5xeSkUr7E5nNTyT2lG-AZLA/s4608/DSCN6385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2697" data-original-width="4608" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2-kWicjPoHp3vTFbx1cZd3yOGRhfPrlgAR0StcBY9-gx1V-mbHP_J1zmhf8ismHvvbdRGcNGlPBMSDLDCKU41_aLjY108hqO48bwpyVFeNh6j4NewwOy25e_nYwQtKFH-kc_QVSi635ZyuoeYuLhrjXyfZchfgpRx5xeSkUr7E5nNTyT2lG-AZLA/s320/DSCN6385.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">the garage belonging to the mansion on the property</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>When we got home neither of us was really hungry, so we just snacked throughout the evening while journaling and watching TV. We started a new show because we were sick of watching Niecy Nash’s boobs flop all over the place. This show is called The Good Cop and stars Tony Danza and Josh Groban (yes, THAT Josh Groban, the singer). The show is a comedic drama and is very good; however, Lori was asleep on the couch by 8:15, halfway through the second episode. She rallied to semi-watch one more episode, than gave up and went to bed at about 10:30. I wanted to journal a bit and take care of a couple of things for work that would make my life easier when I get back. I finally turned in around 12:30 am and slept like a rock.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMD-L0S_Vb9zZJJm1MFg3hd_od4ec3jNErKF7GT6cpi4XZXy-mqWh14JXQriSayLhLZFhDyPd-EYkX12Hn9T7tEXi2_zkbS9t8DoBFyA-ZMauMUXGqWLp8Quh14J-VwD_3zBjDPFX_qcxz5y-K1B-feNorUmK6wOIK9MXqsF-btGrQbT94HuHLXVYJ/s6175/IMG_0357_jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6175" data-original-width="2590" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMD-L0S_Vb9zZJJm1MFg3hd_od4ec3jNErKF7GT6cpi4XZXy-mqWh14JXQriSayLhLZFhDyPd-EYkX12Hn9T7tEXi2_zkbS9t8DoBFyA-ZMauMUXGqWLp8Quh14J-VwD_3zBjDPFX_qcxz5y-K1B-feNorUmK6wOIK9MXqsF-btGrQbT94HuHLXVYJ/s320/IMG_0357_jpg.jpg" width="134" /></a></div><p>Before Lori went to bed we tossed the states, but both final options landed bottoms up and therefore lived to face another day.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-78897231138336947532022-10-16T05:27:00.001-07:002022-10-16T19:20:52.444-07:00Girls Weekend 25. Saturday, Oct 15, 2022.<p>Saturday, October 15, 2022</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSIZDJHxa1tEso50jpHBJAm5i5gyCqXjO9CXFCq6ScPNXMQ3qdJcV7neny1D8N8zzjRwHs6MdibcBSVOccHQ4ZwoiNx9NTzAanzdrvdPhLazJRtM4zTP09ub_EwF00giCLgBpkL_EQNWIiieS5v2YuIkix3MvSycbN1SlEUp9-V547NZwGMMnip7v8/s4372/7B4F46BF-1DFF-4521-8377-1263A38BF4EC.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4372" data-original-width="3279" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSIZDJHxa1tEso50jpHBJAm5i5gyCqXjO9CXFCq6ScPNXMQ3qdJcV7neny1D8N8zzjRwHs6MdibcBSVOccHQ4ZwoiNx9NTzAanzdrvdPhLazJRtM4zTP09ub_EwF00giCLgBpkL_EQNWIiieS5v2YuIkix3MvSycbN1SlEUp9-V547NZwGMMnip7v8/s320/7B4F46BF-1DFF-4521-8377-1263A38BF4EC.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />I have to add here a tribute to my Mom, Beverly Crawford, who passed away this year on July 15th. She LOVED reading about our adventures on our Girls Weekend trips and would hound me almost daily to get our daily journaling posted. I miss that. I miss my Mom. I promise to continue journaling while on these trips, not only to document our adventures but in memory of Mom. Love you forever.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Today is the day we are making our trek into New Jersey. Lori did her research to find something unique to do in New Jersey that wasn't too terribly far away from Wilmington and found Batsto Village, a nationally recognized historic site located in the Wharton State Forest in Southern New Jersey. </span><a href="https://batstovillage.org/history/" style="text-align: left;">https://batstovillage.org/history/</a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">Batsto Village is the site of a former bog iron and glass-making industrial center (1766-1867). A Mr. Charles Read built the Batsto Iron Works near the mouth of the Batsto River. Originally the Iron works produced household items like cooking pots and kettles. During the Revolutionary War, they produced supplies for the Continental Army (munitions, camp kettles, iron fastenings & fittings for wagons and ships). After a time iron production moved to Philadelphia and Batsto became a glass-making community. Between 1784 and 1876 many of the village's buildings and residences for those who worked at the industrial center were built and a post office was established there in 1852. In 1876, Batsto was purchased by Joseph Wharton, a Philadelphia industrialist, who transformed it to a gentleman's farm. He added to the mansion that was built by a previous owner and added many buildings to the site. Today, there are 33 historic buildings and structures still standing on the site, including the mansion, many of which are open to browsing. There is a grist mill, a sawmill, a general store, piggery, workers homes, blacksmith shop and a post office.</span></div><p></p><p>We had decided the day before to leave by 11:30 since it is at least an hour's drive to Batsto from Wilmington and we wanted to be able to enjoy as much of the site as we could. We got a relatively late start on Friday and were unable to fully explore the Hagley Museum and wanted to allow ourselves more time at Batsto Village. After making turkey and cheese sandwiches to take with us for lunch we left a little bit later than our goal and ran into some traffic along the way, but arrived in the village around 1:30. We first stepped inside the Visitor's Center to gather some information and buy tickets for the 3:00 o'clock tour of mansion. The Visitor's Center includes a small museum, but the day was too beautiful to spend much time indoors, so we took in the 10 minute video that described the history of the site, while we ate our sandwiches, then headed out to explore the village. <br /><br /><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9UMlafJYKktsRDPfED15s9i9GM_2jpjkkx78ptd7hLM-tU4p4G-KYiBZZHV_cQYl47jeLpnioeipenKOwJDMfE282dQLq3RvuDPZwdwvAHbV_yLwrdRRWRIyh1L4DmLAi5iaSzDgaAClWfr1xO6KPuXF1-N1YlUPfzFBiX2D2HnC_gmuZ5y2BLBg6/s4032/BB4E7A3E-6BEB-4341-B808-1835E4C586C5.heic" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9UMlafJYKktsRDPfED15s9i9GM_2jpjkkx78ptd7hLM-tU4p4G-KYiBZZHV_cQYl47jeLpnioeipenKOwJDMfE282dQLq3RvuDPZwdwvAHbV_yLwrdRRWRIyh1L4DmLAi5iaSzDgaAClWfr1xO6KPuXF1-N1YlUPfzFBiX2D2HnC_gmuZ5y2BLBg6/s320/BB4E7A3E-6BEB-4341-B808-1835E4C586C5.heic" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lori at the corn crib</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3StQcczEE6ey83hAzaNCc6XJH1b0xJ1LKQlSJOXuCdRMitjqtfsag6fDnAY4TVW2r1R52OwzhsKjQSaMp20jbxrDcCSzF2dX4pbbns2yGLTuW7xMIzBoki3GJx2rduqSVVo3SaJsG8qp7QlkTymU22qhuR31mCOuHubkdSO8scBcatdNcEUYc2-QB/s4608/84092FC3-E6CA-4CF4-8CD8-5FBE04B8370F.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3StQcczEE6ey83hAzaNCc6XJH1b0xJ1LKQlSJOXuCdRMitjqtfsag6fDnAY4TVW2r1R52OwzhsKjQSaMp20jbxrDcCSzF2dX4pbbns2yGLTuW7xMIzBoki3GJx2rduqSVVo3SaJsG8qp7QlkTymU22qhuR31mCOuHubkdSO8scBcatdNcEUYc2-QB/s320/84092FC3-E6CA-4CF4-8CD8-5FBE04B8370F.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">inside the gristmill</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1bKHEh5ZbQt1RuDORdip8A05MgCjmr9JZyrUc5ZWz4K330kU3JAhKJg1enUI5KlO-yP5I7TvLuGxfD_WR23ob5nYjZ4e-sU6Mt_J27ynqcOtSJpm_ZpzWT2knC1vRAY9QEj9MBlJUpqjRgmLw8SDVHH2q6mFoiNp3GfIWGtYABWqvmOFchnGRO066/s4608/523DBB10-BBB3-41CD-872E-75ED04C05EE0.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3096" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1bKHEh5ZbQt1RuDORdip8A05MgCjmr9JZyrUc5ZWz4K330kU3JAhKJg1enUI5KlO-yP5I7TvLuGxfD_WR23ob5nYjZ4e-sU6Mt_J27ynqcOtSJpm_ZpzWT2knC1vRAY9QEj9MBlJUpqjRgmLw8SDVHH2q6mFoiNp3GfIWGtYABWqvmOFchnGRO066/s320/523DBB10-BBB3-41CD-872E-75ED04C05EE0.jpeg" width="215" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Kathi outside the door to the horse barn</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn8mbRqp7jScEY6QnkV0AMUbU-An1DCQBrICbeGgChOz3aD9DQMXUm_7h5TkGyxY99Dth3VRJkbXkzlzgoVYrOMzPfDwAKDFnjEO0tLqgETv6MqYeNzJEkBenoxwCNhPuqL3xdVQ_EkXWWuO-8LAtdlu45-dGur9OUShnYoC47S3tLPsqO2zlw_oy9/s4608/9F5AB670-A4EC-429E-A654-47F52A38A5FA.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn8mbRqp7jScEY6QnkV0AMUbU-An1DCQBrICbeGgChOz3aD9DQMXUm_7h5TkGyxY99Dth3VRJkbXkzlzgoVYrOMzPfDwAKDFnjEO0tLqgETv6MqYeNzJEkBenoxwCNhPuqL3xdVQ_EkXWWuO-8LAtdlu45-dGur9OUShnYoC47S3tLPsqO2zlw_oy9/s320/9F5AB670-A4EC-429E-A654-47F52A38A5FA.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Inside the grist mill</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />We spent 20 minutes or so at the blacksmith shop where there was actually a blacksmith at work! We asked him where the term "pig iron" came from and, while the following are not his exact words but information found on the internet, his description was essentially the same. "The term “pig iron” dates back to the time when hot metal was cast into ingots before being charged to the steel plant. The moulds were laid out in sand beds such that they could be fed from a common runner. The group of moulds resembled a litter of sucking pigs, the ingots being called “pigs” and the runner the “sow.”" He also told us how he judges the temperature of the fire by the color of the flames, with a red flame indicating a temperature of around 700 degrees and a white flame indicating a temperature of around 4000 degrees.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjob49QX5zuvbsuHRxBZkFy0LnYoDlX8IcFh3swJDvND_xBQ7gq5icmbaqDSyT2KS16eidZdFfZ78Fem-NCDD7zIG9t0szQV_9383q2SeGHaTElStAN2VkQVsFLsDmi0CjSPlj1O56f3c_7O3hdnsd2D2oD2M2lSiiWW3HNJCeR8Hl5DJyeIJKLV2/s4555/E88D957F-442C-4F39-8C3A-2A3DBB2848B0.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2534" data-original-width="4555" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjob49QX5zuvbsuHRxBZkFy0LnYoDlX8IcFh3swJDvND_xBQ7gq5icmbaqDSyT2KS16eidZdFfZ78Fem-NCDD7zIG9t0szQV_9383q2SeGHaTElStAN2VkQVsFLsDmi0CjSPlj1O56f3c_7O3hdnsd2D2oD2M2lSiiWW3HNJCeR8Hl5DJyeIJKLV2/s320/E88D957F-442C-4F39-8C3A-2A3DBB2848B0.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The corn crib</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>It was time for our tour of the mansion. We met with other folks and our tour guide (a charming, knowledgeable young man who used "umm" WAY too much in his storytelling) to begin our tour. Our group included a fairly large gaggle of boisterous teenagers who were enthusiastic participants in the tour. Some of the glass in the windows of the home was the original glass which appears a bit wavy due to the production process and one of teens asked why the glass looked "pixelated". A sign of the times. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3hJ9Z3V50hnpYq8rIBEkbRf2efea2uUyL2MYIhMvaA5C2lZAi5NIUC6qLLD36ewlfs_i8d4PZUb468R6ifSRzmsmWdy-FA_mcy8jBQy5jLqo0SE65x-8x40L-bXT0D9yhxdwKBASFPXXUIkSM5E4mFQdsT7852k-lx0_Fnw1Ry6wWFvqAGYxi8H4/s4032/9FFD4D1B-7DA9-4C50-B696-FC5FA1A360E3.heic" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3hJ9Z3V50hnpYq8rIBEkbRf2efea2uUyL2MYIhMvaA5C2lZAi5NIUC6qLLD36ewlfs_i8d4PZUb468R6ifSRzmsmWdy-FA_mcy8jBQy5jLqo0SE65x-8x40L-bXT0D9yhxdwKBASFPXXUIkSM5E4mFQdsT7852k-lx0_Fnw1Ry6wWFvqAGYxi8H4/s320/9FFD4D1B-7DA9-4C50-B696-FC5FA1A360E3.heic" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Batsto mansion is in the background</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Photography is not allowed inside the mansion, so, unfortunately, I have no photos from inside the home.<p>After the tour we walked around the site a bit more, peeking into some of the worker homes, one of which had an herb garden.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GRLtDgge6x2SHHYlkAby2UoP6fd3gaSmp588nEkH0kaLcQH0pXEcCLxSOM4R4rPki94QiFjp-wGemruH31TLZkLydPyfc3sH1ds5jGmPXIjks80ujkMVXQui3u6EmGozyvyeaw7KDVkDwvAk0Ud0oDzAFRQmqhX4IOZ3MDFfnI899FBfhtjY4PMK/s3456/3911F627-5FB7-4D39-B701-F2EDD42A7A44.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3291" data-original-width="3456" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GRLtDgge6x2SHHYlkAby2UoP6fd3gaSmp588nEkH0kaLcQH0pXEcCLxSOM4R4rPki94QiFjp-wGemruH31TLZkLydPyfc3sH1ds5jGmPXIjks80ujkMVXQui3u6EmGozyvyeaw7KDVkDwvAk0Ud0oDzAFRQmqhX4IOZ3MDFfnI899FBfhtjY4PMK/s320/3911F627-5FB7-4D39-B701-F2EDD42A7A44.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Row of worker homes</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>The site also includes Batsto Lake where the families who lived there would swim and sail.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9zTU8V08h2-7RL108azRCI6pgXjACE_V9sGBIU-0qcT16V23gJaGIJUIyd96knbenhck5OKaPMiZ_LBW1a9Su9AToUl-mqLvkaKu3rTTKpaKszPBxgmC0BaW9HT75TSDeS0Uvmn3WjOKkpJlVZ2J7hXlJeVK84ZjMkHAGwOWtMc5wGpoUrQb9k2R/s4608/B0065610-E801-49EB-AE24-D2328E647389.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2465" data-original-width="4608" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9zTU8V08h2-7RL108azRCI6pgXjACE_V9sGBIU-0qcT16V23gJaGIJUIyd96knbenhck5OKaPMiZ_LBW1a9Su9AToUl-mqLvkaKu3rTTKpaKszPBxgmC0BaW9HT75TSDeS0Uvmn3WjOKkpJlVZ2J7hXlJeVK84ZjMkHAGwOWtMc5wGpoUrQb9k2R/s320/B0065610-E801-49EB-AE24-D2328E647389.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcBOdr8IWVOOVmjhe6p-BWS4rKbctnAv0Qei0TLFLXlE_veJXHH3JQLBye_Uog7aVGN5PVgwCkBSvL-TQSk71t-Zr8_8z_Ae6GZZ73EoBW1ueodtvGYh9bVGWAd_XPGWgXipSpj0H4BnZqM52eXjWg8Vk5UbMat7STu-KHb6gUsAn1g49r4RrDvRtq/s3812/E2ED234A-817F-499F-856D-9B2D42A40F07_1_201_a.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3192" data-original-width="3812" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcBOdr8IWVOOVmjhe6p-BWS4rKbctnAv0Qei0TLFLXlE_veJXHH3JQLBye_Uog7aVGN5PVgwCkBSvL-TQSk71t-Zr8_8z_Ae6GZZ73EoBW1ueodtvGYh9bVGWAd_XPGWgXipSpj0H4BnZqM52eXjWg8Vk5UbMat7STu-KHb6gUsAn1g49r4RrDvRtq/s320/E2ED234A-817F-499F-856D-9B2D42A40F07_1_201_a.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>We made the hour and half drive back to Wilmington with a stop at the grocery store to pick up a few items, then went back to our home away from home, where Kathi prepared a delicious meal with the pork chops , asparagus and couscous we bought at Booths Corner Farmers Market the night before, which we enjoyed while watching a couple of episodes of "The Rookie: Feds". We both agree that the wardrobe choices for the lead character are distracting, sexist, unprofessional and disturbing and make taking her character as an FBI agent very hard to believe.</p><p>We tossed the states, leaving us with North Dakota and South Carolina in the running for next year!!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcs3qhWt3fM-pHaAU2DTbtta85Dqlw9BPsKZfJy731X30BXehQjPXPy5A0DnajEzheP4oIJsUvmdWKr7x_I55pBQ_dv1KDD4xjecyEhOnygCz6tOnn7XVPQ4-MvvNf4qEfThmV6JGABR-8pdMF2reKBXcjOrW4AQgySFgBIWK6oDw5v7AV_CVrBg5/s4032/5FC5994E-97AB-4E5A-82A3-0BEDDC8BF0EA.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcs3qhWt3fM-pHaAU2DTbtta85Dqlw9BPsKZfJy731X30BXehQjPXPy5A0DnajEzheP4oIJsUvmdWKr7x_I55pBQ_dv1KDD4xjecyEhOnygCz6tOnn7XVPQ4-MvvNf4qEfThmV6JGABR-8pdMF2reKBXcjOrW4AQgySFgBIWK6oDw5v7AV_CVrBg5/s320/5FC5994E-97AB-4E5A-82A3-0BEDDC8BF0EA.heic" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /><br /></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-61540216282187298602022-10-15T07:37:00.001-07:002022-10-16T19:20:09.602-07:00GW 25 Daily Journal. Friday October 14, 2022<p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Friday, October 14, 2022</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz--9GR9GuPpM9LbfBrnOCMvbhazjPUgNZAZSisgY9nMcoCxOmwfED8rFzwfDsPSij8thXHv9UetFUtmOTK8ttvOqgh7jyVRwWhuo7s0_u_tQTErpcmPwFoWDR6zwqA-ZCPLLrXxxN9GFmE8bkwR3LUDsBfK3nbhn6z-EvT9KEc-Rs5SSmx1vABDvD/s3088/710175DC-552E-4F62-BEFE-0D270991CD9D.heic" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz--9GR9GuPpM9LbfBrnOCMvbhazjPUgNZAZSisgY9nMcoCxOmwfED8rFzwfDsPSij8thXHv9UetFUtmOTK8ttvOqgh7jyVRwWhuo7s0_u_tQTErpcmPwFoWDR6zwqA-ZCPLLrXxxN9GFmE8bkwR3LUDsBfK3nbhn6z-EvT9KEc-Rs5SSmx1vABDvD/s320/710175DC-552E-4F62-BEFE-0D270991CD9D.heic" width="240" /></a></div><br />Our first morning is always slow going. As 60-somethings, we savor these quiet, stress-free mornings of doing only what we want to do. We got up rather late for us, around 8:30 and took our assigned seats in the comfy living room (we always tend to choose “our” spots in our living quarters every year.) Lori launched a deep dive into what there was to do in and around Wilmington.<span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">This is a banner year – not only is it our 25<sup>th</sup> anniversary, it is also our first, last, and only trip during which we plan to cover three states. Because of our strict rules about what constitutes being able to check a state off of our list, we usually do only one state at a time. Seven times we have explored two states, but to do that we either must find a border town from which we can easily explore neighboring states, or we have to pick up and move in the middle of our trip. We REALLY hate moving, and most times a good border town is hard to find. This year we have a rare opportunity because of these interconnecting eastern states. That, combined with the fact that if we don’t pay attention we will be 80 years old trying to navigate the Colorado Rockies or something, has made us take advantage of this one-time opportunity. Wilmington, Delaware is across the river from New Jersey to the east, and a stone’s throw from Maryland to the west. All three states were still on the list, so here we are.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Our itinerary will take careful planning. Lori chose our day trips to New Jersey and Maryland in advance, but we had not yet paid much attention to our home base of Delaware. So this morning we mapped out our week . . . mostly because I simply cannot function well without a list. This took some time, and it was well after noon before we got moving, showered, and dressed. Lori made sandwiches and we took our lunch with us to eat in the car on the way to our first excursion: The Hagley Museum and Library right here in Wilmington.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">The weather was absolutely glorious—a sunny fall day with temps reaching 68 degrees. By the time we arrived it was 1:55 pm, and we were greeted by a sign informing us that the museum store was closing early, at 2 pm, because of an event. So we began our exploration by running into the gift shop before it closed. We held them up from closing for about 20 minutes, then made our way to the visitor’s center.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">OK, here’s where I’ll tell you what we THOUGHT we were going to see. The visitor’s center is also a museum of working models of machines submitted for patents before 1880. Between the years 1790 and 1880 the U.S. Patent Office required both documentation and a three-dimensional working model to demonstrate each new invention submitted for a patent. The models helped to explain proposed innovations and compare them against similar inventions. The Patent Office collected the submitted models during this period and exhibited them to large public audiences in the grand galleries of Washington D.C.’s Patent Office Building. As the mechanical widgets, thingamabobs, and whatsits started to collect, however, they realized there was not nearly enough space to store them, so they decided that the detailed drawings were enough.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">This place is in possession of 5,000 of these mockups and has a large portion of them on display. This idea tickled our nerdy little hearts and we thought we could spend an entertaining . . . oh, I don’t know . . . maybe 90 minutes (?) looking at all the fun inventions. In reality, the amazing and misleadingly named estate “Hagley Museum and Library” is a massive, sprawling 235 acre estate built and landscaped by the du Pont family (yes, those du Ponts, as in chemicals and cars) that includes not only the building housing the model collection (called the Nation of Inventors), but also the Eleutherian Mills Residence, the E. I. du Pont Garden, the Hagley Powder Yard, and the Eleutherian Mills area. “Hagley” was the name already in place when the DuPonts purchased the land in the early 1800s.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknuEC3ZNHVMZNZU62cGJW83GYELBZZMhKPXvPvBlrm5rBe_FJsMk_ZU1zw8LFN1OSmzC2fBCyJhhEJETqFdY1vfy-BkcGnkEiSd0tdSx2NhVZMWb3JUyOb2PmSngl_4B16SIjA5asZA-PFrU3GDiHZkQhLUnebP9g008YW9qjMjJBpLWvoT4nE3By/s4508/717C4B9C-F32F-4C67-8B3A-86FAA55E37E5.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2245" data-original-width="4508" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknuEC3ZNHVMZNZU62cGJW83GYELBZZMhKPXvPvBlrm5rBe_FJsMk_ZU1zw8LFN1OSmzC2fBCyJhhEJETqFdY1vfy-BkcGnkEiSd0tdSx2NhVZMWb3JUyOb2PmSngl_4B16SIjA5asZA-PFrU3GDiHZkQhLUnebP9g008YW9qjMjJBpLWvoT4nE3By/s320/717C4B9C-F32F-4C67-8B3A-86FAA55E37E5.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dupont Phaeton</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWLjt6gPzZRn4rkNchBzXC2me-6W312Hrqd5OHdBYUw0iNVz5Pkta8-0FSWMAADk3LtOWG5KIA3xZiD-6wyELKXpiV2HAVDTQNppx4QOEtGvsOWI3fORQaZpqtvMb5iqGadrjDHx2uwodEWlwaRLXLaFszKjts-idBQDG6CLQoqRSSiyHz1xAd-yt/s4608/48652DD7-DEB3-4D3F-A9B7-07F4E12787C9.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWLjt6gPzZRn4rkNchBzXC2me-6W312Hrqd5OHdBYUw0iNVz5Pkta8-0FSWMAADk3LtOWG5KIA3xZiD-6wyELKXpiV2HAVDTQNppx4QOEtGvsOWI3fORQaZpqtvMb5iqGadrjDHx2uwodEWlwaRLXLaFszKjts-idBQDG6CLQoqRSSiyHz1xAd-yt/s320/48652DD7-DEB3-4D3F-A9B7-07F4E12787C9.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">The family began a highly profitable black gunpower business on the shores of the Brandywine River that runs through the property and built a gorgeous Georgian-style mansion high on the banks overlooking the mills. The mansion looks much as it was when the last family member lived there. It is filled with furnishings and collections of American folk art alongside treasured family pieces and is open for tours, so of course we bought tickets to see it. In front of the house are two acres of charming gardens that have been restored to their original site following a plan drawn by E. I. du Pont in 1804.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisD1ot_Y4lgRZwoUN07C-i1Dfdczn1lc-j2ZNLpKpHvOsa-3xeNg181t7Ac2M7IOqWf2M6ZItUhPurizIwDCpbGuQW5GWUZwVnLhaZipjjPVjZVv8jrAPTrptRayirlk9E4Z5bd39qXRwgeayKef3i8Rs7LJ4XE-NjMQrGLMhl1u3FV3AT5N-lHeUo/s4608/A8B7F113-817D-4FDF-8AAA-9076B599856F.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisD1ot_Y4lgRZwoUN07C-i1Dfdczn1lc-j2ZNLpKpHvOsa-3xeNg181t7Ac2M7IOqWf2M6ZItUhPurizIwDCpbGuQW5GWUZwVnLhaZipjjPVjZVv8jrAPTrptRayirlk9E4Z5bd39qXRwgeayKef3i8Rs7LJ4XE-NjMQrGLMhl1u3FV3AT5N-lHeUo/s320/A8B7F113-817D-4FDF-8AAA-9076B599856F.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Lori and I had just enough time to race through the patent models display, jump on the shuttle to get to the mansion, walk the gardens, and tour the house and the powder mills business office. On the way back to get the shuttle we quickly went in the outer barn to see the gorgeously maintained original farm machinery, and three classic du Pont automobiles before the entire place closed down at 5:00 and we had to leave. We did NOT get enough time here! The estate is fascinating, and we were unprepared. We were unable to see the Hagley Powder Yard or much of the Eleutherian Mills area. There are several historic structures we were unable to visit that held the powder manufacturing stuff, and there are demonstrations too! We were only able to see these by riding by them in the shuttle. We are hoping to find time to get back here and explore the areas we had to miss, and dangit, we didn’t even get to fully enjoy all the gadgets!</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAcM86im7MhdK4baWQovVSrf6NM9k2dQNgeVvOhivnzjrdchdY6adLvuZI3_KiDFr_kZ3o-9X5uM6j9h1F5ehtFF5_7CH_crzLlBBaWqH52noPIWRc0DwS0CoOvvVB-6NxBYGL1pJT9w8u2zIayw6eN8saDgL2uL8_M_h3g0u0kMLHQAY_KoaGyi34/s4608/AA4F3790-DE8E-4DAF-9885-E02EE2D55AD7.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAcM86im7MhdK4baWQovVSrf6NM9k2dQNgeVvOhivnzjrdchdY6adLvuZI3_KiDFr_kZ3o-9X5uM6j9h1F5ehtFF5_7CH_crzLlBBaWqH52noPIWRc0DwS0CoOvvVB-6NxBYGL1pJT9w8u2zIayw6eN8saDgL2uL8_M_h3g0u0kMLHQAY_KoaGyi34/s320/AA4F3790-DE8E-4DAF-9885-E02EE2D55AD7.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Mansion</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Our du Pont mansion tour guide, Cheryl, who had heard me talking about strawberry rhubarb pie as we passed through the rhubarb patch in the gardens, suggested that we go to Booth’s Corner Farmers Market. She said it was an amazing place we would love to see, and that they had strawberry rhubarb pie there. Lori and I rarely ignore recommendations from locals, and the market was open until 8:00pm, so we decided to go see what Cheryl was raving about. Booth’s Corner Farmers Market is in Garnet Valley, PA. We laughed because we felt like, especially after having gotten lost on the way to our Airbnb, we had already spent too much time in Pennsylvania, a state that was not even one of the three designated for this trip!</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Holy moly, this place was fabulous! Not only were there stands of fresh meats, cheeses, veggies, fruits, breads, nut butters, candies, and pastries, there were also surprising and convenient services, such as shoe repair, a notary (!!?), and watch repair. The market had clothing booths and booths with hats, scarves, jewelry, gifts. . . the place was awesome. Lori and I purchased some marinated pork chops and chicken breasts, fresh asparagus, couscous from a great little dry goods shop, yogurt, granola, milk, and of course, a fresh-from-the-oven strawberry rhubarb pie! After we found a great little taco stand and ordered fresh-made tacos to go, we left this haven of wonder and arrived home in less than 15 minutes.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">At our cozy Airbnb, we changed into jammies and established ourselves on the couch to eat tacos and watch TV. We chose a new show called Alaska Daily starring Hilary Swank and were sad that there are so far only two episodes. We loved the show and are eagerly awaiting more. However it was now time for the first tossing of the states! In Lori’s ziplock bag of remaining states, there are only 15 options remaining, and Lori and I took a moment to reflect on how we have dedicated ourselves to Girls Weekend over the years, and now have less than a third of the 50 states and D.C. left to visit for GW. Lori hurled the puzzle pieces into the air, and more than half landed face up! Living to face another day are: Texas, Nevada, Colorado, Georgia, Alaska, Arizona, North Dakota, South Carolina. Lori is pulling for Arizona, and I would like to go to N Dakota because it is the only state in which I have never set foot. We turned in around 11:30 to rest up for New Jersey day tomorrow.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlSWLDH-0pmfFqMoHZbo10ONd0OiQvAM1y19ZeTyPtT_3xUWV0oNRjoAiYI_FhLDedNWbrCUIvmDlgg4Zqo8sNfPoJo-bem5XZJLv_rnkAExqXzHZbcjLxhJ4Lqv1Q9dN-yI2pnlq6Ilk3NUvEhhZzhPaBuwkVpxnzgHYHKiLBpo9KEtOqsY4foXa/s4032/F3C8A724-F191-463E-98D5-2099DD51EC53_1_201_a.heic" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlSWLDH-0pmfFqMoHZbo10ONd0OiQvAM1y19ZeTyPtT_3xUWV0oNRjoAiYI_FhLDedNWbrCUIvmDlgg4Zqo8sNfPoJo-bem5XZJLv_rnkAExqXzHZbcjLxhJ4Lqv1Q9dN-yI2pnlq6Ilk3NUvEhhZzhPaBuwkVpxnzgHYHKiLBpo9KEtOqsY4foXa/s320/F3C8A724-F191-463E-98D5-2099DD51EC53_1_201_a.heic" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">States remaining in the running after the toss</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><p></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-57842036774207176202022-10-14T19:53:00.001-07:002022-10-16T19:22:12.201-07:00Girls Weekend 25 (TWENTY FIVE!!! WOW!) Thursday, October 13, 2022<p class="yiv9395753454ydp8915ac85MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCZvWL-zvPMukaMOELBzZ-dXylnNfteluYzplkYb3vxkWdAhF_PEoQ_4TxzMYwzLylyezntpA-OY9aMZH3fjwUTNCwkblNZR4n-DH_YMVtUtq8Am3OT7OlZLNX0suuKYUUuA81AGSRHcDoWS0W9lTj5LEHyYVDTfou1B3p2umPw-xGjMnEYl7_z48/s4608/35133569-7B6B-4E36-9952-8A466BCCBDE6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCZvWL-zvPMukaMOELBzZ-dXylnNfteluYzplkYb3vxkWdAhF_PEoQ_4TxzMYwzLylyezntpA-OY9aMZH3fjwUTNCwkblNZR4n-DH_YMVtUtq8Am3OT7OlZLNX0suuKYUUuA81AGSRHcDoWS0W9lTj5LEHyYVDTfou1B3p2umPw-xGjMnEYl7_z48/s320/35133569-7B6B-4E36-9952-8A466BCCBDE6.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">O'Hare airport in Chicago</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Thursday, October 13, 2022</span></p><p class="yiv9395753454ydp8915ac85MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Happy 25</span><sup style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> anniversary to Girls Weekend! In honor of our quarter century of consecutive years of this amazing tradition, Lori and I have decided it’s time to add another day to our weekend (and in case you are one of those people who count how many days are in our “weekend”, just stop it! It. Is. A. WEEKEND.)</span></p><p class="yiv9395753454ydp8915ac85MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="yiv9395753454ydp8915ac85MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Today was mostly about getting to Wilmington, finding our Airbnb, and settling in. After a bit of a break last year, Lori was again forced to fly all the way across the country, making for a long travel day for her. We flew in to Philadelphia; I arrived at 2:30 pm and went to find the car in the parking garage. We have started using Turo rather than commercial car rental companies. I am a complete convert and have now done this four times. The cars are clean, in great condition, and the owners have been communicative and wonderful. All those stupid rental car fees are missing, and all I have to do is make sure the car is clean when returned. $15 at a car wash is a heck of a lot cheaper than an extra $150 in stupid fees.</span></p><p class="yiv9395753454ydp8915ac85MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p></p><p class="yiv9395753454ydp8915ac85MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p></p><p class="yiv9395753454ydp8915ac85MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Lori arrived around 5:00pm and we set off for our Airbnb in Wilmington, Delaware. After going about 40 minutes in the wrong direction (it was NOT us, it was the stupid GPS and some false detour signs!) we got ourselves on the right track and arrived at our Airbnb just after dark. It’s a beautiful old house in Wilmington, and we have the entire second floor. We dropped off our stuff, then went to the grocery. Back in our home for the next several days, we settled in, unpacked, made sandwiches, and watched some television before turning in. Girls Weekend has begun!</span></p><p class="yiv9395753454ydp8915ac85MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GW6K3giNBxnK5n36C_x8GTv6VVz5DBYvHoSoqMbyvgBC1Rv1GyUch7dPTvoE1pfnBmPohDOzS3pw7zAZVJG3bWMUQ4OCHuoVhkJn6p-6p6Cl82Ae9o_utmFHaTB3gz1aDWzuTafgerUvZYZ_o_p87RBJoS5yVCt_xVCGnHDCbTKjSkIg0Rbp2hf0/s4032/2AC26EA8-2C50-499D-865E-788AC60D1961.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GW6K3giNBxnK5n36C_x8GTv6VVz5DBYvHoSoqMbyvgBC1Rv1GyUch7dPTvoE1pfnBmPohDOzS3pw7zAZVJG3bWMUQ4OCHuoVhkJn6p-6p6Cl82Ae9o_utmFHaTB3gz1aDWzuTafgerUvZYZ_o_p87RBJoS5yVCt_xVCGnHDCbTKjSkIg0Rbp2hf0/s320/2AC26EA8-2C50-499D-865E-788AC60D1961.heic" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><p></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-47503387719717460942021-10-28T08:58:00.005-07:002021-10-28T08:58:26.439-07:00Girls Weekend 24. Wednesday, October 27, 2021. Time to go home.<p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ0hWNM6wzq25E223pmAeJgVjtqHq85EHsNVc69qBTE7Xzvukj3WwDJpBAsY4YdDXl2xAvfYdifaZyv-LRfpbhElNd7UmOTNSKX7NLvtKqigvL4RdwzXXFKrPvL00VQvMTuKIBe_DCQdw/s2048/14D158C1-A3E2-4AC8-A2E1-E40E589BF819.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ0hWNM6wzq25E223pmAeJgVjtqHq85EHsNVc69qBTE7Xzvukj3WwDJpBAsY4YdDXl2xAvfYdifaZyv-LRfpbhElNd7UmOTNSKX7NLvtKqigvL4RdwzXXFKrPvL00VQvMTuKIBe_DCQdw/s320/14D158C1-A3E2-4AC8-A2E1-E40E589BF819.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">At the Palm Springs Airport</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> Wednesday, October 27, 2021</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> And here it is the end of another Girls Weekend. I am writing this in real time on Thursday morning from home.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> The last morning was busy but not rushed. We packed, ate, cleaned, gathered travel snacks, took out the trash and recycling, and were on the way to the airport at 10:30. It was a long day. My flight was supposed to leave at 1:00 pm but was delayed, as was my connection out of Denvery. Lori’s was scheduled for 5:50 pm. So she sat for hours in the Palm Springs airport and I sat for hours on planes and in Denver, and we both made it to our respective homes safely at just about the same time, around 1:30am EST/10:30pm PST</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">As always, it was a wonderful trip. Many unique, strange and unusual things seen along with lots of nature's beauty. God blessed us once again with good weather, wonderful things to see and do and with our time spent together. Until next year....</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-40958475949550126532021-10-28T08:53:00.001-07:002021-10-28T08:53:31.037-07:00Girls Weeks 24, October 26, 2021. Salvation Mountain and East Jesus.<p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYFe-Xo4aej3tbW8VPdBEXFfkiOOzxhdzgEG-oVlctq6RKOMdDkE3tBQ-gU0wWf7vH8EMqNe8MVSbZZVnE2ztXsZBecc_h6fSkdlExkFeTg24tZCEwoFKlrzfGovXGBa1aygw2N7zXlNE/s2048/01BDE1D0-7CAE-4E8E-8FE5-03660267C20C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1311" data-original-width="2048" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYFe-Xo4aej3tbW8VPdBEXFfkiOOzxhdzgEG-oVlctq6RKOMdDkE3tBQ-gU0wWf7vH8EMqNe8MVSbZZVnE2ztXsZBecc_h6fSkdlExkFeTg24tZCEwoFKlrzfGovXGBa1aygw2N7zXlNE/s320/01BDE1D0-7CAE-4E8E-8FE5-03660267C20C.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">At Salvation Mountain</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> Tuesday, October 26, 2021</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Lori is doing the writing today, while Kathi works on the Monday entry so that we make sure that we get the entire trip journaled before it is over!</span></i></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Today is the next to last saddest day of every Girls Weekend in that it is the last FULL day of Girls Weekend. We always hate to see it come to an end, but the end always comes. We both were out of bed for coffee and our normal morning routine at around 7:30. The plan for the day is to go to East Jesus, which is about an hour and a half away. Yes, you read that right, East Jesus. There really is a place with that name and it is down here in the Southern California desert, and, boy, is it ever interesting!! We’ll also be going to Salvation Mountain and Slab City … but I am getting ahead of myself.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We left our cute little apartment with the world's most uncomfortable furniture (with the exception of the beds; the beds are great!) at around 12:30pm. Before leaving, however, we did our final toss of the states and our remaining puzzle piece is the one containing New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland and Washington DC on it (which, interestingly, in our to-scale puzzle, is only half the size of the Missouri piece!). As I believe Kathi has mentioned previously, we did DC for year 5. There are a couple of pieces in our puzzle that combines small states together. When this happens and it’s the last piece standing after the tosses, we get to pick which of the winning states we want to visit. So we are going to have to do a little research and figure out which of the three options we will visit next year. We will likely combine two of the states, though, since they are small, and that will help reduce our remaining states more quickly. We did not consider when we began these trips in our late 30s that one state per year equaled 51 years, and that there may be age-related challenges to reaching our goal of making it to all 50 states (plus DC) while we’re both spry and able to travel.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitw6DCnjrJSgInznBDD0SAZpiWrqSjtCYw_xnx1r2D4EJhT4UDiXJ2kEpBgzHpo0jtAeJuQdpACG8MzY2gpt1k6lpSrlkPm8ApxuhEr8ADranVgsUaFFgu2by1CJcq08wOnd5Z9HCGRHU/s2048/47F93F44-E50E-4BF8-AB41-6A31369E7B1E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitw6DCnjrJSgInznBDD0SAZpiWrqSjtCYw_xnx1r2D4EJhT4UDiXJ2kEpBgzHpo0jtAeJuQdpACG8MzY2gpt1k6lpSrlkPm8ApxuhEr8ADranVgsUaFFgu2by1CJcq08wOnd5Z9HCGRHU/s320/47F93F44-E50E-4BF8-AB41-6A31369E7B1E.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>On the way to East Jesus we passed many more Date Palm farms where the dates had not yet been harvested. These bunches of dates could be seen with their "coats" on, still hanging from the trees (see entry from Friday for explanation about date farming) and some of the bags of dates had already been cut and were lying on the ground. All of the dates at Shields Date Garden had already been harvested, so we were excited to see the dates still on the trees and wrapped up.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQz4Ek_z2DFljnFVsEc0_Fw0_GtMykhhUK8ks3ofQAl2XleyPpbUfJ4-SCTA4sIZ7jCJls9z37P0Hq6UQSdXtwjMuDxSn6cmh0qCVS8TQYc6IsZCRwL8NhsPynG8Mh8_WYorYbSaLVk4/s2048/A3638C33-0D9C-42BD-BA01-F7D7B8E2A856.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQz4Ek_z2DFljnFVsEc0_Fw0_GtMykhhUK8ks3ofQAl2XleyPpbUfJ4-SCTA4sIZ7jCJls9z37P0Hq6UQSdXtwjMuDxSn6cmh0qCVS8TQYc6IsZCRwL8NhsPynG8Mh8_WYorYbSaLVk4/s320/A3638C33-0D9C-42BD-BA01-F7D7B8E2A856.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">East Jesus is southeast of Desert Hot Springs and the route took us by the Salton Sea, which is a HUGE body of water that is quite strange to see in the middle of the desert. The Salton Sea is another very unique place here in southern California. The following is copied and pasted from an article that appeared in The Guardian in July of this year.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Salton Sea was formed in 1905 when the Colorado River breached an irrigation canal and filled up an ancient basin in the desert, creating an oasis for migratory shorebirds and, by the middle of the 20th century, for celebrities and dignitaries. Developers dotted the shores with palm trees and built up luxury resorts around its perimeter, and the area became a destination for Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby and the Beach Boys. President Dwight Eisenhower used to come by the golf course.</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> (<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2021/jul/23/salton-sea-california-lake-dust-drought-climate&source=gmail&ust=1635521411155000&usg=AFQjCNESc8DrBa3fyLqht9QdmisZ1ui8FA" href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2021/jul/23/salton-sea-california-lake-dust-drought-climate" rel="nofollow" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://www.theguardian.com/<wbr></wbr>us-news/2021/jul/23/salton-<wbr></wbr>sea-california-lake-dust-<wbr></wbr>drought-climate</a>)</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4uRN7M-rf0lwXRY2nsvgPHf9ofa0PKrQbQWZGlksYBp1mG-enwsqwK8-pB8FimIpX2Z9VwbX-yEIfXzfticVZDXTv0tLL52GBQVgmaJvRwblSKGa-3Zvv-unaQVtq4q2eROpGuTP10LM/s2048/4023EC1E-9EDE-4F44-8B48-ABF61786E14F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1195" data-original-width="2048" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4uRN7M-rf0lwXRY2nsvgPHf9ofa0PKrQbQWZGlksYBp1mG-enwsqwK8-pB8FimIpX2Z9VwbX-yEIfXzfticVZDXTv0tLL52GBQVgmaJvRwblSKGa-3Zvv-unaQVtq4q2eROpGuTP10LM/s320/4023EC1E-9EDE-4F44-8B48-ABF61786E14F.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Salton Sea</span></td></tr></tbody></table> So, once the dike that was breached was repaired in 1907 the only water filling the "sea" is irrigation run-off from the surrounding agricultural areas that is full of fertilizer, pesticides and salt. The salinity of this inland sea that is 35 miles long by 15 miles wide has risen to the point where it is slightly higher than that of the Pacific Ocean and, as a result, most of the fish that were once found in the water died off. The water is evaporating, leaving stinking, rotting algae on the shoreline and toxic air all around it. While there are many parks and boat ramps that we saw on the shores of the lake, we saw only a couple of cars parked in their lots and saw absolutely NO boats out on the water which struck us as unusual considering it is such a large body of water in the middle of a desert. So, while the Salton Sea is attractive to look at from a distance, that is about the best thing that can be said about it. We did stop at the Bombay Beach Recreation area which was mostly deserted with many abandoned and vandalized mobile homes to take a few pics. Kathi also insisted on driving REALLY fast so we could catch up with a train on the tracks that run alongside the road we were on just so I could get a photo. Photo taken, she slowed down to more reasonable speeds, thank goodness!! </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTMldgkoEZNlaetSB-G1UbmuOIAUcTA7-8vSBH_WcNcCpNRg_6fUbdbTvRbecfP1Ypr6NDgjY3lx959T4fDufYcxSW2-Cy2sB4jMovlQwJ8kWQ274FEBxSYgi9uw_BzL-2UUaMyzb4xs/s2592/83948663-B056-47F3-8FB6-A8EC7B1CB464.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1213" data-original-width="2592" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTMldgkoEZNlaetSB-G1UbmuOIAUcTA7-8vSBH_WcNcCpNRg_6fUbdbTvRbecfP1Ypr6NDgjY3lx959T4fDufYcxSW2-Cy2sB4jMovlQwJ8kWQ274FEBxSYgi9uw_BzL-2UUaMyzb4xs/s320/83948663-B056-47F3-8FB6-A8EC7B1CB464.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">After making a turn off the highway onto a more rural road in Niland, California, we didn't have to travel very far before spying Salvation Mountain. Woo doggies, is this ever an interesting and weird place! Leonard Knight, a drifter who was passionate about sharing his religious revelation, God is Love, experienced a few failed attempts at other endeavors to spread his message (he really wanted to use a hot air balloon to spread the word, but failed at obtaining or making one.) So, he began to work in earnest on creating Salvation Mountain in 1989. It is a site to behold. Not only the "mountain" carries his message but so do many abandoned vehicles on the property. Leonard died in February of 2014, but there is a man named Ron living on the property who maintains the mountain, which requires constant attention. For a more complete story on Leonard and the mountain visit this link: <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.thewayfaress.com/blog/salvation-mountain&source=gmail&ust=1635521411155000&usg=AFQjCNGy_CPeGa_tNwJmGmDBXw3KKKYGqg" href="https://www.thewayfaress.com/blog/salvation-mountain" rel="nofollow" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">The Man and Mission Behind Salvation Mountain: What to Know Before Your Visit — The Wayfaress</a></span></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></div><div id="m_5884352831030137555ydp25b4354cenhancr_card_6272034887" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: YahooSans, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; max-width: 400px;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.thewayfaress.com/blog/salvation-mountain&source=gmail&ust=1635521411155000&usg=AFQjCNGy_CPeGa_tNwJmGmDBXw3KKKYGqg" href="https://www.thewayfaress.com/blog/salvation-mountain" rel="nofollow" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0) !important; text-decoration-line: none !important;" target="_blank"><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="max-width: 400px;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;" width="400"><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="border-color: rgb(224, 228, 233); border-radius: 2px; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; max-width: 400px; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td background="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEjEW9e1bjdV6YDGu_okhjSNr6MZc7pxuT3BZwVJoSjYpC3LRGlZ-E7D6C7v1wv0VxInqU9hrlAA-7J3Gf-3fePzsJ0k8AA0d270k2BnyLXgvgrQLkERtuSRJBBu4nwUTVNlr2eQWR00OS_SZB3DT6_CGaJwxFelPjUXI60dtmVcfUu8LshLacUZKqdHRVLgSaxOC8rEu_MxAqlPrRls1usXFfMPD_7AROL-8xbzbPGVA3TXTisROkYumK5o2Av8PmYbtW8aOc9diRGOv3zuvlSaSqerVljQEDfqpa3IBSwXXLq45rq9CV-oPWGG4NQQdlfstX36bEDsXIl4gDmb85yg6NpHHflJ7bQirXcoZhFNhzOzLqXe6gHPmJSOqArN8Rl_K5_WuY9awrQ8ELu_jbCDT_NsakXmsfxWMZaZSDjLcvktqrQVsn9p3bCe=s0-d-e1-ft" bgcolor="#000000" height="175" style="background-color: black; background-size: cover; border-radius: 2px 2px 0px 0px; margin: 0px; min-height: 175px;" valign="top"><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="width: 398px;"><tbody><tr><td background="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEjS-pyfhNpBXP0UQ01swg4onXzczfW4kpZRGj-remYVaMIBrtWpGJhHMD6bk3SwSPA-KS9UKlboZMosaM9b16Qsa7dSLBOfeZZ6bN0Nxk9ECdeWc73Y1ausxFEpE-N91z4auSnIz_IdWL0-GtuL8nCjrqOhN_7VQ0fCZ_5AC0Gc2DKhPcKLDqEk7C4NpHN7MQ0rKQ=s0-d-e1-ft" bgcolor="transparent" style="background-color: transparent; border-radius: 2px 2px 0px 0px; margin: 0px; min-height: 175px;" valign="top"><table border="0" style="height: 175px; min-height: 175px; width: 398px;"><tbody><tr><td style="margin: 0px; padding: 15px 0px 0px 15px; vertical-align: top;"></td><td style="margin: 0px; padding: 15px 15px 0px 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: top;"><div></div></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr><tr><td style="margin: 0px;"><table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-radius: 0px 0px 2px 2px; border-top: 1px solid rgb(224, 228, 233); max-width: 400px; width: 398px;"><tbody><tr><td style="border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 2px; margin: 0px; padding: 16px 0px 16px 12px; vertical-align: top;"></td><td style="border-radius: 0px 0px 2px; font-family: YahooSans, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 12px 24px 16px 12px; vertical-align: middle; width: 350px;"><h2 style="color: #26282a; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px 0px 6px; max-width: 314px;">The Man and Mission Behind Salvation Mountain: What to Know Before Your ...</h2><p style="color: #979ba7; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px;">You’ve seen it on TV, the internet, Instagram – the strange yet serene United States road trip mecca that looks ...</p></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table></a></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We spent some time wandering and taking photos at Salvation Mountain and Kathi had a conversation with Ron who lives on the property with 2 dogs, 9 cats and no running water. A way of life that I cannot even begin to imagine. From Salvation Mountain we moved on to Slab City and East Jesus. Slab City was yet another "oh my goodness, I had no idea someplace like this existed" kind of moment. Many RVs and old mobile homes can be found out here on the slabs. Some of these folks are permanent residents, some are seasonal. ALL are heartier folks than I. We are talking the middle of the desert, no trees for shade, and no running water. Not my idea of home sweet home. Not even close. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBdfQnoNsEHu-6NizGFAqRi5RlF_7WCs_4fJuByZ4xOndcbh80cjttm7ZIGV5jNH_tEdB1jnD_EzyCWk1cG4njGw5SuU3EHKavDUt0oUOry31yPAy1fbN8MyOtIFdLxQZQU9iWU6hzKWg/s2048/DC470456-AEEA-4F40-A746-442BB0A5B037.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1120" data-original-width="2048" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBdfQnoNsEHu-6NizGFAqRi5RlF_7WCs_4fJuByZ4xOndcbh80cjttm7ZIGV5jNH_tEdB1jnD_EzyCWk1cG4njGw5SuU3EHKavDUt0oUOry31yPAy1fbN8MyOtIFdLxQZQU9iWU6hzKWg/s320/DC470456-AEEA-4F40-A746-442BB0A5B037.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Salvation Mountain</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And then, a short distance around the bend was East Jesus. How best to describe East Jesus? On the website it is described as "a refuge for artists, musicians, survivalists, writers, scientists, laymen and other wandering geniuses. We are dedicated to providing a working model of an improbable improvised community at the edge of the world." The Art Garden here is a member of the California Museum Association. Everything here is made from things that most of us would consider junk or trash. It is unusual and weird and fascinating and well worth the trip as long as you are not easily offended. I would not bring children here. There is LOTS of broken glass here. Some of it is part of the art and some it does not appear to be, but I could definitely be mistaken. Some of the art contains profanity and some of it is profane, so be warned if you decide to visit. SUCH a dichotomy between this place and the art and statues depicting the story of Jesus at the Shields Date Garden!!</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO899ti_HwzGZCJSnVwE4_Nw4U9rn1Ofud8LE-NO5W6cWu0mr0Q9fVYcLTMXDcH4xo-QuN_L5SXgCdU0IYfETRftDRS9kDSmP1uDuJPwf3Zv97WXlX6Tg_LvkJZutxcqIlabV4idjSToI/s2048/1CB9BC4A-6D79-4B47-93D7-DC41D5813E81.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO899ti_HwzGZCJSnVwE4_Nw4U9rn1Ofud8LE-NO5W6cWu0mr0Q9fVYcLTMXDcH4xo-QuN_L5SXgCdU0IYfETRftDRS9kDSmP1uDuJPwf3Zv97WXlX6Tg_LvkJZutxcqIlabV4idjSToI/s320/1CB9BC4A-6D79-4B47-93D7-DC41D5813E81.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLv4gEyE64uvQFGzhapD3ohLoqiTwpEsF6weq00hDiYW7hDBfsAcgI3ozlNV_-E57nXKMxhkxBdNHDkOpEfv73Da_zTSPEEYUc9d28AROlQRrsdtxmfHC9LxyUMbhyphenhyphenG0XKD6kaAbXq84E/s2048/2D2AE16D-CCCB-4868-8D23-547C8A26BECB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLv4gEyE64uvQFGzhapD3ohLoqiTwpEsF6weq00hDiYW7hDBfsAcgI3ozlNV_-E57nXKMxhkxBdNHDkOpEfv73Da_zTSPEEYUc9d28AROlQRrsdtxmfHC9LxyUMbhyphenhyphenG0XKD6kaAbXq84E/s320/2D2AE16D-CCCB-4868-8D23-547C8A26BECB.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R9rdgpWraT2wDMQFJOwDuilKkOsicjqpvSD4tUXB0BPoo-1gUDyEM4nPCyQZxM27AO1Vmbzpl_WPOObhH47Q6dPrvy2BtjZtob3enHmp25AY4HG5X9Yy2qURbExixJMmldjwyeT49xk/s2048/895CAD2D-773B-408C-82FB-1E502088E469.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1638" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R9rdgpWraT2wDMQFJOwDuilKkOsicjqpvSD4tUXB0BPoo-1gUDyEM4nPCyQZxM27AO1Vmbzpl_WPOObhH47Q6dPrvy2BtjZtob3enHmp25AY4HG5X9Yy2qURbExixJMmldjwyeT49xk/s320/895CAD2D-773B-408C-82FB-1E502088E469.jpeg" width="256" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGVDf4TteEr-U4BQrq86LkZ4h6C-UcHZ3AJdj7vga44p3Wnxn-NkVQgVW7VWqjHLb1SH9VL9K-UbKWti37EKMsCuHZE2XtVloRYDggJidYp6aGb4q2ujyBJoi29V0uUGVu99KzQrjN96k/s2048/0568575C-BB31-4087-AB1C-05C4BFB4BB34.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGVDf4TteEr-U4BQrq86LkZ4h6C-UcHZ3AJdj7vga44p3Wnxn-NkVQgVW7VWqjHLb1SH9VL9K-UbKWti37EKMsCuHZE2XtVloRYDggJidYp6aGb4q2ujyBJoi29V0uUGVu99KzQrjN96k/s320/0568575C-BB31-4087-AB1C-05C4BFB4BB34.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">We spent quite a bit of time wandering the East Jesus Art Garden in curiosity and amazement before our bladders began to speak to us of the need for a bathroom. This (no running water, remember) is something that the art garden is lacking. We chatted for a bit with the caretaker currently living there to maintain the property (who ARE these people who voluntarily care for desert art with no amenities?!) about the place and its origins before deciding we needed to answer the call of nature. The nearest bathroom was about 20 minutes away at the nearest gas station (which we were also in need of), so we left East Jesus and Slab City.</span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivsORLdhBx8xdLWj9RwpfpoorNcauRpGkT6vHpXeSo-NRUNTuDVVF4Zo_Dp1BIZJl22M6fff6B3_YHf1R8fGd9tFY19Bt8ASxrPQUSbi8yh1PZQvbeqenTJvwsF1eZXhkXuEOxdfrPboU/s2048/E50D61DC-8BF8-49BC-AD4E-D908C0DC9998.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivsORLdhBx8xdLWj9RwpfpoorNcauRpGkT6vHpXeSo-NRUNTuDVVF4Zo_Dp1BIZJl22M6fff6B3_YHf1R8fGd9tFY19Bt8ASxrPQUSbi8yh1PZQvbeqenTJvwsF1eZXhkXuEOxdfrPboU/s320/E50D61DC-8BF8-49BC-AD4E-D908C0DC9998.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">We ate the lunches we brought with us (we each had salads left over from previous meals) while sitting at the gas station then began the drive back to Desert Hot Springs and our home away from home. We stopped at a car wash called Quick Quack once in Desert Hot Springs to wash and vacuum the car. Because we rented the car through Turo, which is a peer to peer car sharing company rather than one of the traditional car rental places, one can save themselves the $50 or so cleaning fee if one washes and vacuums the car themselves before returning. Then we stopped at some Mexican place so Kathi could get herself a Mangonada, which she had been craving since our arrival, and then home.</span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We had bought meat for 2 meals on our grocery store run and had only cooked up the hamburger, so I cooked up the chicken breasts we had with some zucchini, butter and lemon for a tasty dinner. I ate, but Kathi saved her portion to have on her LONG trip back to Indianapolis, having been filled up by her Mangonada. We finished watching the last two episodes of Squid Game and went to bed for our final time here is Desert Hot Springs.<br /></span></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-60594790918409726852021-10-28T08:06:00.000-07:002021-10-28T08:06:20.952-07:00Girls Weekend 24. Monday, October 25, 2021. Escape Room and Palm Springs Aerial Tramway<p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Y5AjcLBG2x7NO7m-TDdeXFDSE_VThpcF-D16p4gxrP_lz5aIWP8gGse2mYWoStBKtwt9EeddG7j8BaoK3YFs_GVNczU-w9a45G7lvMZ0_MmRnQAn60hon9RnjLdjdZAHs4fdUtcCsEI/s2048/48FD1B31-BBFF-497C-AC1B-34367BAAB200.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Y5AjcLBG2x7NO7m-TDdeXFDSE_VThpcF-D16p4gxrP_lz5aIWP8gGse2mYWoStBKtwt9EeddG7j8BaoK3YFs_GVNczU-w9a45G7lvMZ0_MmRnQAn60hon9RnjLdjdZAHs4fdUtcCsEI/s320/48FD1B31-BBFF-497C-AC1B-34367BAAB200.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Monday, October 25, 2021<p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">This morning, after finally falling back to sleep in the wee hours, I woke up at 7:30am soaked in sweat but feeling much better. Apparently whatever interloper had upset my own personal ecosystem had been fought off during a great battle over the past four to five hours, and I had the very damp sheets to prove it. During our normal morning routine, I managed to finally complete the journal entry from Saturday. We absolutely love writing these travelogues, but because we ourselves want to remember much of the details of our trips, they take a bit of time to write. Lori has had to write pretty much all of them since I started my PhD program. Now that I am finally ABD (all but dissertation), I certainly still have copious amounts of research and writing to do to move forward with my dissertation proposal, but I am taking this week off from academic writing to write for pleasure, which I sorely miss. Plus, I am relieving Lori of the majority of the writing duties for this year, and I know she appreciates it. So that we can complete the travelogue entries close to the time our trip ends, we are simultaneously writing up different days right now. You will hear a lot of her voice describing tomorrow’s details.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We left the apartment at 11:00 am. There are several wind farms all over this area. We soon discovered how much sense this makes, as the wind here is quite strong, and on at least a couple of days since we arrived, we have heard it howling, whipping, and ripping around outside. We are certainly used to seeing the majestic huge white new-age windmills in Indiana—the road from Indy to Chicago is full of them—but they are even more striking when seen dotting the arid desert floor with a mountainous backdrop. Lori wanted to take some pictures of a grouping of windmills not far from the Airbnb, so we drove as close as we could get so she could get some great shots.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Today had been set aside to explore the city of Palm Springs, that famous desert oasis. I had been to Palm Springs once before, while on tour with Dreamgirls in 1987. All I remember about it is that it was so hot I thought my face would melt off. I also recall going to a mall, and all the cars in the parking lot left divots in the asphalt when they left because it was too hot for the paving surface to stay firm. In other words, for a person like me, who HATES to be hot, Palm Springs equaled hell. Fortunately, the temperatures here in this area in late October are much more tolerable…the temps for most of our trip have been quite delightful in fact. Today in Palm Springs it was about 76 degrees when we arrived, and there was a slight breeze, which was perfect.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We started our “Palm Springs Day” with a reservation for our relatively new GW tradition, an escape room. In case you are new to the Girls Weekend travelogues, Lori and I suck at escape rooms. We failed in 2015 in Richmond, VA; in 2016 in St. Augustine, FL; and in 2018 in Providence, RI. This has been our first attempt since then. We also did one in Indy with our families…fail. Lori has done a couple others at other times with other people…fail. I did one as a team building activity with my work colleagues, and while it was recorded as a successful escape, there was a glitch with one of the locks, so they gave us more time, but in my opinion they gave us more time than we had spent working on the broken lock. They also just about talked us through solving a couple of puzzles almost step by step over the intercom. So, while I will take the W in that situation, Lori and I both really wanted to get out of one of these things on our own.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz_9ctegt6fhbb68jhlXAieZ-5Or8wc5DPifYAZwucH89PSMBxZ1xVS87RmelYtRor4e4mw-Np6qYes2xWjTunnO1pw717BA960o5J2KeIdeFxyvajaoS1kniHL-X4FImnk5Kw4j1Wm4c/s640/C78D547E-9F5D-45C6-826E-618822F1C019.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz_9ctegt6fhbb68jhlXAieZ-5Or8wc5DPifYAZwucH89PSMBxZ1xVS87RmelYtRor4e4mw-Np6qYes2xWjTunnO1pw717BA960o5J2KeIdeFxyvajaoS1kniHL-X4FImnk5Kw4j1Wm4c/s320/C78D547E-9F5D-45C6-826E-618822F1C019.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>Escape Room Palm Springs had six room options from which to choose. In a blatant effort to hedge our bets, I told Lori to ask for the easiest room for two people to escape from, so we were booked into the Titanic adventure. The story of the room was: <i>the “unsinkable” Titanic is going down. Fortunately, you overheard the captain speak of a hidden lifeboat at dinner. This may be construed as mutiny, but you decide to gather your crew and work your way through Captain Smith’s cabin anyway. Discover what secrets Captain Smith has been keeping from the passengers and crew</i>.” And guess what…. we did it!!! <b><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">WE FINALLY ESCAPED THE DAMN ROOM</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">. Well kind of. Turns out there was a bit of a trick at the end. However, we succeeded in reaching the goal of the game and we were ecstatic to be ex-losers. After posing for a couple of pictures and exchanging a few high fives, we happily got back into the car and asked GPS to take us to our next adventure, the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway.</span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">If ever you are in Palm springs, the Aerial Tramway should definitely be added to your itinerary. It was an awe-inspiring experience and afforded truly wonderful views of the mountainous terrain. The Tramway, which was built in the Chino Canyon on the north edge of Palm Springs, was the dream of Francis Crocker, an electrical engineer who first envisioned a tramway during a trip to the area in 1935. Sweating down in the valley, he longed to “go up [to the top of Mount San Jacinta] where it’s nice and cool”. Over the next 30 years, working with the assistance of desert pioneer and co-manager of the famed Palm Springs Desert Inn, O. Earl Coffman, Crocker’s dream became an actual plan. The plan had to be shelved and re-started a few times, but in 1945 a new tram bill was passed, and Governor Earl Warren signed the measure creating the Mount San Jacinto Winter Park Authority. Coffman was named the Authority’s first chairman and Crocker was named the first secretary.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ2rUijkXAVouw9SDaw2wvDhiVvLm6cknOpAP0HLmysQxj-XKVpWJhOAbLoPSObHCvOKjxrg0bIRhE3K4zEHOW5E_JRSdmA8JQGADuY0QL2YguRrxqPWCrDIwl2TFXZvhxA3wXI39fLIs/s2048/278F3198-4983-4FE2-BF6B-1B27251C9C9C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ2rUijkXAVouw9SDaw2wvDhiVvLm6cknOpAP0HLmysQxj-XKVpWJhOAbLoPSObHCvOKjxrg0bIRhE3K4zEHOW5E_JRSdmA8JQGADuY0QL2YguRrxqPWCrDIwl2TFXZvhxA3wXI39fLIs/s320/278F3198-4983-4FE2-BF6B-1B27251C9C9C.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">One of the original tram cars</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Funds were raised through the sale of $8.15 million in private revenue bonds, and by 1950 technicians were working on designs for the tramway. The land for the Valley Station and parking lots was donated, and no public funds were used for either the construction or operation of the Tramway. After another delay caused by the Korean War, the ambitious project finally began to take form in July 1961. Construction of the Tramway was an engineering challenge, and the project was soon labeled the “Eighth Wonder of the World.” The work involved using helicopters to erect four of the five supporting towers. Yes Gads!!</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUpRMq02OL-AWwZ_aEY2Sogh21gZL313SSctxfeJL5Og_rg0GDD4SdYTKvNHtF9LahyphenhyphenFElAYdJyuybiBiFv-hoOeGYtF_NCxCo_BazfWEa7LwIJUtClJ0PXeVf62t9OEOpc3mcCMaoBO0/s2048/C4AC204C-12E4-4775-B7B0-C3CDE81A593B_1_201_a.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUpRMq02OL-AWwZ_aEY2Sogh21gZL313SSctxfeJL5Og_rg0GDD4SdYTKvNHtF9LahyphenhyphenFElAYdJyuybiBiFv-hoOeGYtF_NCxCo_BazfWEa7LwIJUtClJ0PXeVf62t9OEOpc3mcCMaoBO0/s320/C4AC204C-12E4-4775-B7B0-C3CDE81A593B_1_201_a.heic" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">view of the valley from ascending tram</span></td></tr></tbody></table>On Monday, June 10, 1963, the first of two 80-passenger tramway cars were removed from their packing crates and suspended from the main track of the cables. The second tramway car was unpacked and added the next day. The anticipated date of completion, Aug. 3, was delayed and the first inaugural trip was made on Sept. 12, 1963. The first tower is the only one that can be reached by road. The Palm Springs Aerial Tramway was designated an historical engineering landmark in 1983 because of the <b>23,000 helicopter missions</b> that were flown hauling men and equipment for the construction of four of the five towers and the 35,000 square foot Mountain Station.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">My favorite part of this story is that Crocker was able to ride the Tramway numerous times and fellow passengers often would receive a narration from him as they rode up to “where it was nice and cool.” So many of these farsighted folks (such as the poor Integratron dude) don’t get to see their dreams completed, but fortunately that was not the case for Francis Crocker, who died in 1992. In 1998, the Tramway announced that it was embarking on an ambitious modernization program that would see the construction and installation of new cars and an update of its facilities. Beginning in September 2000, passengers first rode the world’s largest rotating tramcars, which were shipped in from Switzerland.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAedZreLSc31eoY1UD2hug-6dTxyfXgN7zRCzvPOYKIaMBK0lGKX6qMnmhIZxGrs-BwJvpDjalMc-PBBxWgKTSwkbZbootkRPbXgecpYJPyERO8qfIK9mzEM8ThkYYV0emIt_iNjxGCWQ/s2048/ABD04F5F-DB7E-4FD7-A723-77678961D7D7_1_201_a.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1405" data-original-width="2048" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAedZreLSc31eoY1UD2hug-6dTxyfXgN7zRCzvPOYKIaMBK0lGKX6qMnmhIZxGrs-BwJvpDjalMc-PBBxWgKTSwkbZbootkRPbXgecpYJPyERO8qfIK9mzEM8ThkYYV0emIt_iNjxGCWQ/s320/ABD04F5F-DB7E-4FD7-A723-77678961D7D7_1_201_a.heic" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">descending tram car arriving at station</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">These tramway cars are so cool! The passengers stand in the completely round car with windows all around. After it leaves one station, the floor makes two full revolutions during the 11 minutes it takes to reach the other station. This happens going up and going down. The weather for our tramway ride was a bit challenging, as there were a lot of clouds and a rather stark temperature drop down to 39 degrees when we debarked at the top. We were going to hike a bit but weren’t dressed for it. So instead, we went and had a delicious lunch at Peaks Restaurant—housemade tomato basil soup for both of us, followed by a Caesar salad for Lori and a green salad with blue cheese and strawberry vinaigrette for me. Next, we found the two small movie theaters in the mountain station and watched both of the (very severely dated) movies that gave all of the information I have written here, and then braved the chill and spitting mist to go take some wonderful pictures from the observation deck. By the time we decided to board the tram to go back down it was pouring rain and freezing. We did have jackets with us, but nothing to really protect us from this kind of weather. As we traveled back down the rain slowly faded and the temperature slowly climbed. A great experience very much worth the price of the ticket.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZoiF3J7MZ8C1_27l-fac8OxbVj5Ujo8Jcux_HsqMhX_ouKyk0Fbztrxpva5deuLpecFqo5PmGte2ZnJ-kRXR_S7l2td0SUR6gTCExyL_fQEldHgYjA2GXH5fgIru_SqPNRTlbTA3D_w/s2048/E094D2C2-604E-42D4-B62A-244A64CF083A_1_201_a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZoiF3J7MZ8C1_27l-fac8OxbVj5Ujo8Jcux_HsqMhX_ouKyk0Fbztrxpva5deuLpecFqo5PmGte2ZnJ-kRXR_S7l2td0SUR6gTCExyL_fQEldHgYjA2GXH5fgIru_SqPNRTlbTA3D_w/s320/E094D2C2-604E-42D4-B62A-244A64CF083A_1_201_a.jpeg" width="320" /></a> </td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">ascending tram car photographed from descending car we were in</span></td></tr></tbody></table>It was a little damp down in the valley when we exited the tram, but whatever rain had fallen down there had stopped, and it was blessedly warmer, probably around 68 degrees or so. We drove into downtown Palm Springs and easily found a parking spot on the street. The parking was free, which shocked us a bit, but for which we were grateful. We found a great little clothing store that was SO “us”, and each of us bought a couple of items. Then we went up the street to the Free People store. This is a clothing line that both Lori and I just love, and in which we always enjoy browsing. Lori purchased a gorgeous sweater, but I managed to resist, as there was not much on the sale rack. We both needed to find a bathroom by this time, so we walked up a couple of blocks to by far the fanciest Starbucks either of us had ever seen. It’s huge and had contraptions in there that my local stores certainly don’t have. Correspondingly, they had menu items we don’t have in Indy, including ice cream!! They make some blended drinks with the ice cream. They’re a test store, and the only store currently that carries ice cream. Who knew? We bought a couple of coffees, decided to call it a day, and went back to the car.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It was close to 9:00pm when we got back to the apartment, where we watched episodes six and seven of Squid Game. My God, what a show. It’s repulsively fascinating, and SO violent. Finally, after a very long and fulfilling day, we went to bed, still riding the high from our escape room victory.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-76282377878419384762021-10-26T11:45:00.002-07:002021-10-26T11:45:55.319-07:00Girls Weekend 24. Sunday, October 24, 2021. Keys Ranch Tour<p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sunday, October 24, 2021</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlsO4xY3hqu2cUS4olfp4UPzXw7vFFtjGawQIZxeA0kjIMTKDHTODd1vF3gjEpZDn5sNulGIGcyTsagMgR3WKNW4qn7W9GcYFnRd_j92M4MXDB9VfvZ1QgJ3itx3Dpn3KWbjeH5tW7LQ/s2048/03EB0C07-8C63-4957-A3FE-86987965DF4E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlsO4xY3hqu2cUS4olfp4UPzXw7vFFtjGawQIZxeA0kjIMTKDHTODd1vF3gjEpZDn5sNulGIGcyTsagMgR3WKNW4qn7W9GcYFnRd_j92M4MXDB9VfvZ1QgJ3itx3Dpn3KWbjeH5tW7LQ/s320/03EB0C07-8C63-4957-A3FE-86987965DF4E.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We were up early as usual today but had to get moving with purpose, as we had reservations for a 9:30 tour of Keys Ranch, inside of JTNP. GPS says it will take us an hour to get there, and the website says it’s hard to find, so we wanted to leave a bit early. We tossed the states—Arizona is out, so only four states remain.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">After quick showers, some coffee, yogurt, and protein bars, we gathered up the necessities for a day in the open desert air and left at 8:10 am. We entered the west entrance and made it to the designated tour meeting point at 9:25 am. We were a bit concerned about the time, as access to Keys Ranch is only accessible through advance reservation, but we were nowhere near the last of the tour group to arrive.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Shortly after 9:30, Park Ranger Ian arrived to open the locked gate that marked the entrance to the Keys Ranch. He was explaining to us what the tour would be like and telling us we would need to go back and get into our cars to drive through the gate. I had just come out of the one bathroom at the meeting point, and Lori had waited for me, so we were at the back perimeter of the gathered group. All eyes but mine were trained on Ranger Ian—I was looking down to make sure I had zipped my jeans—and I thought I spied something. I calmly took Lori’s arm and told her to take a step back. Then I asked if her camera was at the ready, which was a stupid question since it always is. Lori has become quite the accomplished amateur photographer in the past couple of years. I pointed to a big rock almost at our feet, and on cue, a HUGE tarantula marched out from behind it and beelined toward the desert landscape to our right. He was definitely on a mission. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlpR2LXXTjKX9qJ2L1LNr787t4-w8lE5amC7p0zXm-_XLzezt5GiwCLCkNB2VUYPjPLqO3Eh78zekd06eSEquWbKmXdSCANr8GgDaxDVu05355V8p_FlZrxRUspIXG9CPXDj10FiEnUE/s2048/D154D114-0EDB-4F25-A248-ED05E3C40426.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlpR2LXXTjKX9qJ2L1LNr787t4-w8lE5amC7p0zXm-_XLzezt5GiwCLCkNB2VUYPjPLqO3Eh78zekd06eSEquWbKmXdSCANr8GgDaxDVu05355V8p_FlZrxRUspIXG9CPXDj10FiEnUE/s320/D154D114-0EDB-4F25-A248-ED05E3C40426.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">After recovering from mild shock, Lori snapped several photos, and then alerted the rest of the group to the presence of an extra member. Twenty people rushed over to see him and started snapping away. The big, hairy, leggy creature just kept on marching in a straight line across the sand dusted clearing. Ranger Ian came over and, just like a good park ranger, proceeded to tell us about our furry friend (let’s just call him Harry) and what he was up to. He informed us palmed-sized Harry was a male tarantula, as females are much BIGGER, and that it was currently mating season. Harry was gone a-courtin’! He would visit the burrow of a female and ask for a friends-with-benefits date. If the female did not appreciate the ask, she would </span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">EAT HIM</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">. Alternatively, she could accept his advances; however, if he stuck around for too long after the date, again, she would </span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">EAT HIM. </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Therefore, his role in the sex act was to choose wisely, ask nicely, perform his duty, and then get out. Can I get a witness? Are there any other menopausal or post-menopausal women out there who would like to join me in wishing I could adopt the sex practices of a female tarantula?</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Park Ranger Ian (who was rocking dark-gray nail polish, by the way) was a font of information about the desert wildlife, and the particulars about their adaptations to the arid landscape. We learned that big horn sheep in the desert do not release as much water when they poop, and that desert turtles hold on to their urine for a very long time before deciding to pee. Ranger Ian was from Wisconsin and pointed out a bird particularly for us Midwesterners to watch for, the Phainopepla, which he said very much looked like a cardinal, except it was all-black. It took until almost the end of the tour, but a group member did eventually see one of the birds and Lori caught a great photo.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztplBqAzQDS3QqFSqINVZHNToviZHDkMQ0u3wn0nbjwZerN9lm-sQaz5_bt5KKz_6E8YY7X2j5wfnN1LbpETjKfMbltHf0Do-3cxdyqQ6z2jzgOkXQs-FWl-rtcAsj4WuFAypQuCHWl4/s2048/1EF35D72-1FE8-4AA5-A9F8-E018AE167C88.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1994" data-original-width="2048" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztplBqAzQDS3QqFSqINVZHNToviZHDkMQ0u3wn0nbjwZerN9lm-sQaz5_bt5KKz_6E8YY7X2j5wfnN1LbpETjKfMbltHf0Do-3cxdyqQ6z2jzgOkXQs-FWl-rtcAsj4WuFAypQuCHWl4/s320/1EF35D72-1FE8-4AA5-A9F8-E018AE167C88.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Keys Ranch, according to Wikipedia, is “the prime example of early settlement in the Joshua Tree National Park area. Bill Keys was the area's leading character, and his ranch is a symbol of the resourcefulness of early settlers. The ranch is an extensive complex of small frame buildings built between 1910 and Keys' death in 1969. Keys pursued both ranching and mining to make a living in the desert.” Ranger Ian was clear about telling us the rest of the story though. Keys was a bit of a shyster and a bully and had no problem just lifting items from other people’s property and keeping it for himself. Back to Wikipedia:</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">William F. Keys was born at Palisade, Nebraska, in 1879. After working as a ranch hand and smelter worker, he was a deputy sheriff in Mohave County, Arizona. During a time in Death Valley, he befriended Death Valley Scotty, becoming involved in a swindle that resulted in the so-called "Battle of Wingate Pass". He arrived in the Twentynine Palms, California area in 1910. In the area that became Joshua Tree National Park, he became acquainted with local outlaw and cattle rustler Jim McHaney, taking care of him in declining health. Keys eventually took over McHaney's properties after McHaney's death, gradually expanding what became the Desert Queen, its name borrowed from the nearby Desert Queen Mine.</span></i><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></i></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqtUaiAwr8TaafFCYAR21lJVZfHEc9Y-Zxaewsb5E7VILtmPO6eaVMZvcBJoScYXif7TrX0e8n6tYy6qlUtHXuv902zwY5ymRpLIP3_fZhAyEu7KwymFV3m86hBeey5_1Bz9YjGbZB1n8/s2048/F72C539A-BDE4-4AC4-8376-BBF7256C894C.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqtUaiAwr8TaafFCYAR21lJVZfHEc9Y-Zxaewsb5E7VILtmPO6eaVMZvcBJoScYXif7TrX0e8n6tYy6qlUtHXuv902zwY5ymRpLIP3_fZhAyEu7KwymFV3m86hBeey5_1Bz9YjGbZB1n8/w150-h200/F72C539A-BDE4-4AC4-8376-BBF7256C894C.heic" width="150" /></a></i></div><i> </i><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Keys married Francis M. Lawton in 1918, and they had seven children together, three of whom died and were buried at the ranch. During a dispute over the Wall Street Mill, Keys shot and killed Worth Bagley. Keys was convicted of murder and went to San Quentin Prison, where Keys educated himself in the library. Keys was paroled in 1950 and was pardoned in 1956 through the efforts of Erle Stanley Gardner, author of the Perry Mason novels.</span></i><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></i></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Mining equipment at the ranch includes an arrastra and a stamp mill for ore processing. Other buildings include an adobe barn, a schoolhouse, a tack shed, machine shed, cemetery and a variety of houses and cabins.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSOFJ5Ngco6XpKHy-T-znKy-7MgGIM6Q0zfnxglfJ_U6JtgaiuhWWYc14qG0qZOCENFYphYCS7pY1QqS7Mf4cBaMO7Ll1pDcE_7X0phYkTfN6erZbdAjor7sOGtWpzAM4GNw8yTdqzgNY/s2048/DEFDA2AE-E8B4-465A-8E2E-53D5118438A7.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSOFJ5Ngco6XpKHy-T-znKy-7MgGIM6Q0zfnxglfJ_U6JtgaiuhWWYc14qG0qZOCENFYphYCS7pY1QqS7Mf4cBaMO7Ll1pDcE_7X0phYkTfN6erZbdAjor7sOGtWpzAM4GNw8yTdqzgNY/w200-h150/DEFDA2AE-E8B4-465A-8E2E-53D5118438A7.heic" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Our Keys Ranch tour was wonderful, and we loved looking at all the amazing tools, equipment, buildings, and appliances preserved on the property. It was also quite tiring. It took just over 2 hours and only covered half a mile distance-wise, but there was a lot of standing in one place. We middle-aged women would much rather walk 10 miles than stand in one place for that long, so our bodies were fatigued when the tour was over. This is the final weekend of the Highway 62 Open Studio Art Tour, and we had seen the directional signs up and down the highway on our way to and from JTNP. We had planned to explore more of the park on our own, but we decided instead that we would drive back into the town of Joshua Tree, find somewhere to have lunch, and then maybe visit a few of the art installations.</span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOiJ-XVNEHlN_TPAGCLXh8yI15sIBsDiPZ4C-WHH5sghHSLkmoBk8c2aMQqyqgT3q7vpNAQ9-OCLphlKuLa0qIbmfxMCzhVlV6pU8XyLnF1mpHio9HjHy-HRDHRXl-Jb8Uo1WolL7crig/s2048/809B71A2-1882-440C-8272-3E33E849F614.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOiJ-XVNEHlN_TPAGCLXh8yI15sIBsDiPZ4C-WHH5sghHSLkmoBk8c2aMQqyqgT3q7vpNAQ9-OCLphlKuLa0qIbmfxMCzhVlV6pU8XyLnF1mpHio9HjHy-HRDHRXl-Jb8Uo1WolL7crig/w150-h200/809B71A2-1882-440C-8272-3E33E849F614.jpeg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We found the Natural Sisters Café, a magnificent little spot with amazingly fresh vegetarian offerings. Lori had the avocado and veggie sandwich and I had the daily special, a delicious falafel salad with housemade dressing. Because it’s Girls Weekend, a table magically cleared for us outside of the crowded little spot, and we enjoyed a lovely al fresco meal in great weather. When we left we simply chose a direction to drive in, and took off down Highway 62, turning at the first art installation sign we saw. We ended up at stop #34, the studio of Ron Tharrio, who did delightful work in several different media. When we walked into the big aluminum barn studio, several cronies of the artist were sitting around shooting the s***, but the artist himself was out running an errand. These guys were helpful and friendly, and quite funny as well. One of them was an artist who encouraged Lori to start making her art journals for others to buy.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnj1epwaHJk7o5H0eXFKg5waBzePVLfRxNDBu1aKzh_QfhH7eWCHzjcilJsVFzvpQCHwfqc7foKTwR0n6EPn_OCB6mjF9NGRez9X9ejT8myVXqiM8u2tVzZWAZPF7HTN40tUtfkymGxI/s2048/20F48511-B414-4BF8-885B-1DD6997D599F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnj1epwaHJk7o5H0eXFKg5waBzePVLfRxNDBu1aKzh_QfhH7eWCHzjcilJsVFzvpQCHwfqc7foKTwR0n6EPn_OCB6mjF9NGRez9X9ejT8myVXqiM8u2tVzZWAZPF7HTN40tUtfkymGxI/s320/20F48511-B414-4BF8-885B-1DD6997D599F.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We left Ron Tharrio’s studio at 3:30 pm, having never met Ron himself, and decided it would be our one and only stop on the art tour. We were wiped out and decided to go back to the Airbnb and relax for the rest of the day. We decided we would watch a couple of episodes of Squid Game while we were still awake. We want to finish all nine episodes of the season before we leave. We turned in pretty early, about 9:30. I had started to feel a bit off and was pretty sure I was running a low-grade fever. The first half of the night was restless, and I was wide awake again at 12:45, still feeling icky. I got up to take a couple more ibuprofen, and then realized that what had likely helped to awaken me was our resident bathroom cricket, who was chirping away at high volume. I went and closed the bathroom door so he wouldn’t wake up Lori, and after about an hour was finally able to put myself back to sleep, praying I would feel better in the morning.</span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKdhbExc7yY37d3lNDdaGlUS8lpgbk7KqGD2ZlXESgQHQTw3dDKXJD-qnXJ4kTWruH-5mwjsVeZZf06Zdn4xH4-AtDWTD-wmdf8LR1ejpSTdGp-mIvnQqPIPZPULZaEIcWKnLsDOQkFNo/s2048/8CE6B4BD-8CE1-4CDF-9907-65A7FBFEAD00.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKdhbExc7yY37d3lNDdaGlUS8lpgbk7KqGD2ZlXESgQHQTw3dDKXJD-qnXJ4kTWruH-5mwjsVeZZf06Zdn4xH4-AtDWTD-wmdf8LR1ejpSTdGp-mIvnQqPIPZPULZaEIcWKnLsDOQkFNo/s320/8CE6B4BD-8CE1-4CDF-9907-65A7FBFEAD00.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-7491309441203590032021-10-25T20:32:00.002-07:002021-10-25T20:32:23.806-07:00Girls Weekend 24, October 23, 2021<p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlMDAjeljiW38Rs5XrYWZcQtoES5_HwMCRWwkLCLuhZVj_7UsSfK3gKc9_Xka6RK0mCJ2Q_7-3QVbJeF58HVXmrqrNiHkW_m2FnZGF7Wt9HLVfJDoGf9H3LLJGs6AZ9nU7KDG97aoBik/s2048/BB02FEA8-1AB6-4453-90D9-26ACF5CF1765_1_201_a.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1885" data-original-width="2048" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlMDAjeljiW38Rs5XrYWZcQtoES5_HwMCRWwkLCLuhZVj_7UsSfK3gKc9_Xka6RK0mCJ2Q_7-3QVbJeF58HVXmrqrNiHkW_m2FnZGF7Wt9HLVfJDoGf9H3LLJGs6AZ9nU7KDG97aoBik/s320/BB02FEA8-1AB6-4453-90D9-26ACF5CF1765_1_201_a.heic" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">After a somewhat restful sleep, we were both up this morning by 6:30. I say “somewhat” because while our king-sized beds are quite comfy, with lovely, crisp sheets and nice, firm mattresses, this place is kind of noisy. Yes, I know. I live on College Avenue, and what with all the fire trucks, ambulances, people out and about, and now drag racing going on (ugh!), my home is not exactly a mecca of peaceful tranquility at night, but my brain has catalogued and subsequently dismissed those sounds, and I almost always sleep through them. However, here, there are two huge dogs, a Rottweiler and some kind of Akita mix, penned up in the yard next to us, right outside my window. They are outside 24/7 and NEVER in the house, which makes me sad. They do not bark constantly, but there are definitely sessions of loud talking between the two of them during the night. And they bay at any sirens. I do NOT hear the sirens (refer to the College Ave statement), but I do hear the baying, and the barking at whatever nocturnal creature ventures into their lair. Meanwhile, Lori has been awakened a couple of times on each of the two nights we’ve been here so far, by a very loud cricket that has taken up lodging in our bathroom. We cannot find him, and when she gets up out of bed to go locate him, he of course stops chirping. In general, though, we have been resting pretty well here.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We had an extremely leisurely morning. We thought we were supposed to be at our first appointment at noon but found out that we were scheduled for 3:00 instead. We spent the morning in the normal fashion, enjoying coffee, breakfast a la carte, researching, journaling, and sorting pictures. This is a bit easier said than done in this apartment. This Airbnb leaves something to be desired, for sure. It’s certainly nice enough—it is clean and neat. The decorative touches are sparse and somewhat pallid, but that’s OK. There are several plastic plants…I hate plastic plants, but I wouldn’t call them offensive. Outside there is a nice courtyard and a security gate, and we have a designated parking spot for our car. All good things. However, the aforementioned comfortable beds and the copious clothing drawer and closet space are pretty much the end of the available acceptable furnishings. Where this place takes a nosedive is in the furniture department. The furniture, in a word, sucks. It is utilitarian and broadly uncomfortable, and there is not nearly enough of it.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the living room there is a 44” relatively new color TV…OK, but the remote control is crap and seems to only be remote without controlling anything. Directly under the TV is a nice-sized desk accompanied by a chair that could be mistaken for a rock, it’s so hard. The desk is actually very conveniently placed, as my laptop lives there, and I have connected it to the television through my HDMI cable (without which I never leave the house) and this way we can stream TV shows and watch them on the big screen. It is far less frustrating to have to get up to pause the show from my laptop than it is to wrestle and have my fingers cramp up from trying to press buttons on the from-hell remote (and no, it’s not the batteries, although if it were, we would have to replace them ourselves. More on that in a bit.)</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">There are four more items in the living room (aside from the fake plants): an armless futon, an almost worthless small round end table (maybe 12” in diameter), an armless faux leather chair and a small faux leather hassock. That’s it. No coffee table or serviceable end tables, no place to rest drinks or “nesting” accessories—you know, phones, tablets, knitting, books, whatever you’ve brought with which to surround yourself. The chair is OK, it’s pretty sturdy, and with your feet up on the hassock even somewhat comfy. And at least it’s wide enough to catch your arms on the seat after you have fruitlessly searched for sides to the chair, found none, and then just allowed them to fall at your sides. But the futon? Oh, boy. The futon is likely one of the most uncomfortable seating places I have experienced outside of a train station or surgical waiting room. The wooden frame is built so that a huge hard beam goes right down the center of the structure, therefore meaning that if you sit in the middle, you have a wooden rod through your butt crack. And with no tables or TV trays or ottomans or anything to help you get settled, you’re left sitting up very much like an attentive student in class. This is NOT relaxing.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Lori came up with a solution yesterday. She went and got the ironing board, arranged it to be close to the ground, and voila! A coffee table. She looks hilarious sitting there working on her tablet, perched on the end of the torturous futon, looking very much like Peanuts’ Schroeder in mid-recital.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2t-Yh0716V8NwpBDRlVIB2PtBTn6uURUQbuxmn-Q1kwFb4UAR2ZK4JgRh5dLdgCRDXbtmnrd1pSFPq6T7rZZSnCC8g3ip3kkSVWt5rekaUVqyChebw9CCGH548ZPhM7T8K5e4ASzHPI/s2048/1CDABB21-80C1-4B05-96B2-28BA44F3493F_1_201_a.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2t-Yh0716V8NwpBDRlVIB2PtBTn6uURUQbuxmn-Q1kwFb4UAR2ZK4JgRh5dLdgCRDXbtmnrd1pSFPq6T7rZZSnCC8g3ip3kkSVWt5rekaUVqyChebw9CCGH548ZPhM7T8K5e4ASzHPI/s320/1CDABB21-80C1-4B05-96B2-28BA44F3493F_1_201_a.heic" width="240" /></a></div>Added to all of this, the kitchen is under-stocked with supplies. There are only huge soup spoons but no regular sized spoons (so we are saving every plastic spoon we come across), no measuring spoons, no larger serving bowls, a teeny trial sized bottle of dishwashing liquid, and one roll of paper towels. There are no additional garbage bags, and the trash can is the kind that holds small bags. We filled it in one day. The bathroom does have a few rolls of toilet paper, but it’s single ply and a corn cob would feel nicer. There is one tiny cake of soap, no facial tissues, and a bottle of hand soap that was only ¼ full. On the desk in the living room is a sign that informs us that the provided supplies “may not be enough for your entire stay and you may need to purchase additional supplies.” You think?? Therefore, at about 11:30 am, after taking inventory of all of this, we returned to the grocery store to buy the items that should have been provided by GOOD hosts. After returning and putting it all away, we left again, on our way to the Integratron to enjoy a sound bath, one of the most unique experiences we have ever had.<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lc21dJo77OjPIdNv9iikTWbjW5H0o-pXL6YYPhyphenhyphenHPIp_xJu9gLeKtwE3hrE25WqV1wosahBrQy8fV9h6qjKo0m5wukKa7UKQ2Gv9pm55WBjTxa-2Q__Jf74qkCIF5LMbGlGYrLl9hm0/s2048/0D69E058-0E10-4D4C-9F48-55DA66E831CC.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lc21dJo77OjPIdNv9iikTWbjW5H0o-pXL6YYPhyphenhyphenHPIp_xJu9gLeKtwE3hrE25WqV1wosahBrQy8fV9h6qjKo0m5wukKa7UKQ2Gv9pm55WBjTxa-2Q__Jf74qkCIF5LMbGlGYrLl9hm0/s320/0D69E058-0E10-4D4C-9F48-55DA66E831CC.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Integratron (in-TEG-ra-TRON) is located in Landers, California, about an hour drive from our Airbnb. It was created by George Van Tassel (1910-1978), who claimed that the structure is based on the design of Moses’ Tabernacle, the writings of Nikola Tesla, and telepathic directions from extraterrestrials. George, who was an aeronautical engineer, was spending a lot of time in a friend’s abandoned rooms, hewn out under a giant rock in the California desert (another story I won’t go into right now) when he was awakened by a visitor named Solganda. Solganda, who was 700 years old (but only looked to be about 28, according to van Tassel), was a Venutian (i.e., an alien from Venus) and took van Tassel onto his spacecraft. During the visit, van Tassel was informed that Earthlings’ reliance on metal building materials was interfering with radio frequencies and disrupting interplanetary “thought transfers.” Solganda also handed van Tassel a secret formula that he could use to build a remarkable machine. This device would generate electrostatic energy to suspend the laws of gravity, extend human life, and facilitate high-speed time travel.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">This happened in August of 1953. Van Tassel spent the next 18 years constructing the Integratron, a one-of-a-kind 38-foot high, 55-foot diameter, all wood dome built on an intersection of powerful geomagnetic forces that, when focused by the unique geometry of the building, concentrate and amplify the earth’s magnetic field. Magnetometers read a significant spike in the earth’s magnetic field in the center of the Integratron. Van Tassel dropped dead of a heart attack when his plans were 95% completed. Since no one else knew the secret formula, the structure was never completed to perform its main function.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">In 2000, the Integratron was purchased by three sisters who had been part of the restoration and maintenance of the structure and property for more than 30 years. They worked to restore and preserve the structure while sharing its amazing acoustical properties with the world via the Integratron Sound Bath, which appears to have been a brilliant idea. A sound bath, as described on the Integratron website, is “an unforgettable sound experience for those who seek deep relaxation, rejuvenation, and introspection. All Sound Baths are 60-minute sonic healing sessions that consist of: a brief introduction to the Integratron and its history and sound qualities, 35 minutes of 20 quartz crystal singing bowls played live, and the balance of the hour to integrate the sound and relax in the sound chamber to ambient music. You will be resting comfortably in the deeply resonant, multi-wave sound chamber while a sequence of quartz crystal singing bowls are played. Each bowl is keyed to the energy centers or chakras of the body, where sound is nutrition for the nervous system. The results are waves of peace, heightened awareness, and relaxation of the mind and body.”</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCRoVSjRO-4DoffqqZgr2FfzMMx-N7Yf6vrMKXcBs6_hy10cWs_g0IjJOMMqc3i15Mf-nUbvfBYXQRklCa2sUPXzmL13TLCpsUncucE7Jic2HBCnVUgxrn4J84IktQwcFIoPxMvQzQvc/s2048/75556302-1FB3-49C9-825B-4CA5005A7604.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCRoVSjRO-4DoffqqZgr2FfzMMx-N7Yf6vrMKXcBs6_hy10cWs_g0IjJOMMqc3i15Mf-nUbvfBYXQRklCa2sUPXzmL13TLCpsUncucE7Jic2HBCnVUgxrn4J84IktQwcFIoPxMvQzQvc/s320/75556302-1FB3-49C9-825B-4CA5005A7604.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Lori and I of course had to experience this. So, we and about 25 other peace and relaxation seekers entered the Integratron at the appointed time, removed our shoes on the lower level and climbed the stairs to the second level, a large open, gorgeous circular space capped by the dome. We were given clean sheets which we spread over mats on the floor and lay down to enjoy our sound bath. A middle-aged, desert hippie with a long braid, who was a retired massage therapist and who had been taught to play quartz bowls by his grandmother, sat surrounded by about 15 or 20 white bowls of varying sizes, tuned to different notes. Think running your finger around the rim of wine glasses filled with different levels of water, but on steroids, and with mallets. We were told we would be elevated or sunken to different depths of consciousness and able to connect with our bodies and interplanetary rhythms. I took that to mean I would get a great nap, which indeed is what happened. The sounds emanating from the bowls was surprisingly loud and did indeed seem to sink into our minds and bodies. Lori did not go to sleep, and therefore might be able to tell you more about the 25 minutes of bowl playing. We both definitely found it to be an amazing, unique, and wonderful experience.</span><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmhWE7NgICLDOgDwsphiF67NK1OAYFbC0VuBkdYVryPrJvdqKOE_31EcXa2ulYSv65xfvBXl9G-bEzqqO6eSUvmkjnlNECTK4JNDahNEcsqlviw49hEk-MVdfKPYwO8Ni3pYIpWFJMU4/s2048/B0EF7680-F5CD-4A31-82FF-B6F5D50435C5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1540" data-original-width="2048" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmhWE7NgICLDOgDwsphiF67NK1OAYFbC0VuBkdYVryPrJvdqKOE_31EcXa2ulYSv65xfvBXl9G-bEzqqO6eSUvmkjnlNECTK4JNDahNEcsqlviw49hEk-MVdfKPYwO8Ni3pYIpWFJMU4/w200-h151/B0EF7680-F5CD-4A31-82FF-B6F5D50435C5.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6w2GSmy4a5mBfO2EYQ0i7neXF2A9ALluFq6eencf06LB4GHAYEfdSXGRnnAxej_GxS_IA8nTwZSlLvxaBDIWqRjClq_8twnwrB2vBMErEc_7wRhrJirjltpY5R-965nEBqo_XepByxKk/s2048/D1FDE265-23BC-4982-840B-48B0C242D0F2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6w2GSmy4a5mBfO2EYQ0i7neXF2A9ALluFq6eencf06LB4GHAYEfdSXGRnnAxej_GxS_IA8nTwZSlLvxaBDIWqRjClq_8twnwrB2vBMErEc_7wRhrJirjltpY5R-965nEBqo_XepByxKk/s320/D1FDE265-23BC-4982-840B-48B0C242D0F2.jpeg" width="320" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLT5mGc3-ScRazbbLZ9L7RTdXP9x7Q1g4q3hU_FgcpEEpvK9qEsed4mcCl-TWCG1l1yUiKn6KKn2b2UnVhZJz7n1xZ4uX91VWGrXmgMD02LdRHOzbhv6hMwolWnfWITIw9dZYmJbfJVw/s2048/D254FD6B-3599-4310-933B-A0D2EEC46A09.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1312" data-original-width="2048" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLT5mGc3-ScRazbbLZ9L7RTdXP9x7Q1g4q3hU_FgcpEEpvK9qEsed4mcCl-TWCG1l1yUiKn6KKn2b2UnVhZJz7n1xZ4uX91VWGrXmgMD02LdRHOzbhv6hMwolWnfWITIw9dZYmJbfJVw/w200-h128/D254FD6B-3599-4310-933B-A0D2EEC46A09.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The grounds surrounding the Integratron were fun. There were several different seating areas, including a grouping of hammocks, some couches, some chairs, a couple of firepits, and several unisex bathrooms labeled “Mars”, “Venus”, and “Peace”. <br /><br /><br />There was a lot of very interesting “yard art” made from all kinds of fun things, including old, rusted garden implements, wooden items, old washboards, etc. These things had been incorporated into fountains and landscaping. We loved it. When we finally left if was 5:30 pm. We wanted to get to JTNP to experience the sunset, which was at 6:01, so we had to hustle to get into the park and find good observation spots.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie3H5z1d-yT39zSkXkv1jd13o8AonF3TMQIwWdztWWEY-bNBL3Ql5iEWyoq90gPMwV8Jf9MJm0QhijehsyfuFxjE17YLqeiJzQs0HS8o6HpuRI5AjfXBHIaeRKeqZREJNv56aQx6okN2k/s2048/E646E316-E3A5-4F4A-A014-5D1308557C6B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie3H5z1d-yT39zSkXkv1jd13o8AonF3TMQIwWdztWWEY-bNBL3Ql5iEWyoq90gPMwV8Jf9MJm0QhijehsyfuFxjE17YLqeiJzQs0HS8o6HpuRI5AjfXBHIaeRKeqZREJNv56aQx6okN2k/s320/E646E316-E3A5-4F4A-A014-5D1308557C6B.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We entered the park through the west entrance this time, drove in for a while, and just decided to pull over at a spot where the colors from the sunset appeared to be good. I (of course) climbed some rocks while Lori stayed at ground level, and we photographed a lot of the surrounding area. The changing colors were so gorgeous as darkness descended. We decided to stick around to look at the stars and spent another hour in the park. By this time, it was very dark and quite chilly, so after trying some artsy photo shots using “light bathing”, which is basically using the car’s headlights to illuminate the landscape, we called it a day and drove the 45 minutes back to our apartment.</span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9KCzSahb12in7eM1kdvVZjclg4JIIvDmDIuzmEDC894_MJOaCa5_-kAJSVfdJpxQyUuiordD0Ue7yFVoakRVYncUzWrSVXHHH4rd8skLMG9NGCGWMXtVac4RjRIQTm_Dm8YQGpXRL4w/s2048/26C041BC-B165-4961-9294-28D7ABB1EE8E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9KCzSahb12in7eM1kdvVZjclg4JIIvDmDIuzmEDC894_MJOaCa5_-kAJSVfdJpxQyUuiordD0Ue7yFVoakRVYncUzWrSVXHHH4rd8skLMG9NGCGWMXtVac4RjRIQTm_Dm8YQGpXRL4w/s320/26C041BC-B165-4961-9294-28D7ABB1EE8E.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I went to work on Friday’s journal entry while Lori worked on her pictures. After our long day of relaxing sound bathing followed by lots of fresh desert air, Lori could barely keep her eyes open. No TV watching for us tonight! Lori went to bed and straight to sleep, and I followed as soon as the journal entry for the previous day was completed. I was careful to close the bathroom door before I went to bed in an effort to mute Lori’s cricket buddy and we both experienced our first night of straight-through sleep with no dog barking or cricket chirping. We did, however, forget to toss the states. Oops!</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHgscf9aUp4A9z4Yz0cUsarldhMZsfdoffx-OejQ3LXQWN5W3yPR_u2sOaHeo9hm5NZWO6bJQjMgZzEO_bV1itZSsq9pA9t_JuZ3zDMqqc-mWu26c-kXoWp3fb5hJ8P10NNZlvS8dd9JU/s4608/DSCN0913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2977" data-original-width="4608" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHgscf9aUp4A9z4Yz0cUsarldhMZsfdoffx-OejQ3LXQWN5W3yPR_u2sOaHeo9hm5NZWO6bJQjMgZzEO_bV1itZSsq9pA9t_JuZ3zDMqqc-mWu26c-kXoWp3fb5hJ8P10NNZlvS8dd9JU/s320/DSCN0913.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Many of you have been asking for pictures, so here is a link to google photos album I created, with a selection from the myriad photos we have taken. I hope you enjoy them! <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://photos.app.goo.gl/AumPddB8y7isDRMA7&source=gmail&ust=1635303441608000&usg=AFQjCNGORvLm1uAa-MiCLVo6rr6kjyPuJg" href="https://photos.app.goo.gl/AumPddB8y7isDRMA7" rel="nofollow" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://photos.app.goo.gl/<wbr></wbr>AumPddB8y7isDRMA7</a></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div><br /></div><br />oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-54675177331258779672021-10-24T17:26:00.000-07:002021-10-24T17:26:03.480-07:00<div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkCuWonq5GtMW9632-32ZchE02FBbaHXw2Xkk-BCbeDjfsq4Wp5LZET6nPzJ6PlY5-dbg1SVDhtmWOFrnacnAasIxWArpj8LpgYPBAelLx0XFFPRe7qDeZ-y0UVjq360JpqLcWlhIXOc/s2048/FC8044C3-12E2-4D97-A2CE-0D0388058500.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkCuWonq5GtMW9632-32ZchE02FBbaHXw2Xkk-BCbeDjfsq4Wp5LZET6nPzJ6PlY5-dbg1SVDhtmWOFrnacnAasIxWArpj8LpgYPBAelLx0XFFPRe7qDeZ-y0UVjq360JpqLcWlhIXOc/s320/FC8044C3-12E2-4D97-A2CE-0D0388058500.heic" width="240" /></a></div><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Friday, October 22, 2021</span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Lori and I tend to get up relatively early on these trips. This morning we were up at 7:15 ready for coffee. We each have certain protein or breakfast bars we like, and Lori often makes yummy scrambled cheesy eggs, which was what she did today. Mornings are a favorite part of our days on these trips; we are both on laptops writing, sorting pictures, and researching and planning for the day ahead. Lori is far and away the best at finding interesting things for us to do on GWs, and often is scouring the internet for weeks prior to our trips. Today, she informed me that we are apparently in date country. Not the awkward ritual of two people beginning a series of meetings to get to know each other better kind of date, but dates as in the fruit. Dates apparently only thrive in very dry, sunny places where plenty of water is accessible. Therefore, there are dozens of date farms down here. I knew next to nothing about dates except that they are delicious when stuffed with blue cheese and wrapped in bacon, and Lori had never even tasted a date before. Clearly, this was an excellent learning opportunity. For various reasons, we chose <a href="https://shieldsdategarden.com/" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" shape="rect" style="color: #196ad4;" target="_blank">Shields Date Garden</a> as the place to go to increase our date knowledge.</span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinZJdwu99NqjgE_BkK8F6Ix9f7KeGDy6NuCwv8RIAUQoe2CP8CEU4RhwLcFk_hyphenhyphenIWz7cpUXb26PW5Q1vFQm_hN0_jA4q8CyBPEwe6Z2_u5UMKpqRiihu4-TYwuFv1jRhUb0tt5obXd0cc/s2048/CFD40C27-9CCB-44C2-9D34-A4F204169E3C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinZJdwu99NqjgE_BkK8F6Ix9f7KeGDy6NuCwv8RIAUQoe2CP8CEU4RhwLcFk_hyphenhyphenIWz7cpUXb26PW5Q1vFQm_hN0_jA4q8CyBPEwe6Z2_u5UMKpqRiihu4-TYwuFv1jRhUb0tt5obXd0cc/s320/CFD40C27-9CCB-44C2-9D34-A4F204169E3C.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>After a leisurely morning, we showered, dressed, filled our Camelbaks, grabbed snacks and whatever else we needed for the day, and set off for the date garden. As always, it seems impossible to adequately describe these unique and strangely wonderful places we manage to find in each state we visit. Shields Date Garden (est.1924), is primarily a date farm, producing many varieties of dates, including but certainly no limited to Medjool, Blonde, Brunette, Abbada, Barhi…and the list goes on. The palms (did anyone else have NO idea that dates grew on palm trees?!) at this place were not just planted in traditional farming rows; rather, they were artistically placed in garden settings. All kinds of desert plants, bushes, and trees were mixed and mingled in with the date palm trees. In 2011, a wealthy couple who had created a biblical garden in Vancouver, Canada, were looking to relocate the garden statues to the Palm Springs area. Shields incorporated the statues (chronologizing the life of Christ) and created a walking path that winds through the 17 acres of the date farm.<p></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We learned amazing things in this place! Raise your hand if you already knew the following (I would not be raising my hand for any of these things!):</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Dates are one of the most expensive and work intensive crops to grow and cultivate.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHyA_mA2T8tgMUM9b1EYxiH_8xgZ17Cg5ztey5hbs4tfr6xo5Z0Phc1A2O27s5X6dvMDq2EhC_hAxzg1SCe6AZv1VkBTe3aCgvF-WWcKq9vQ92VZgam1INegQGkGC-AvBq_k6FdDKKr9o/s2048/3ED8AC7B-3668-4C92-B54D-6A5C0CDD8990.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHyA_mA2T8tgMUM9b1EYxiH_8xgZ17Cg5ztey5hbs4tfr6xo5Z0Phc1A2O27s5X6dvMDq2EhC_hAxzg1SCe6AZv1VkBTe3aCgvF-WWcKq9vQ92VZgam1INegQGkGC-AvBq_k6FdDKKr9o/s320/3ED8AC7B-3668-4C92-B54D-6A5C0CDD8990.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>For best results, all steps of date production have to be done by hand.<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span><p></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p>There is no natural pollination process for dates, so they must also be pollinated by hand! This involves shaking the pollen out of the male tree flowers, gathering it into squeezy bottles (picture bigger versions of those little nose and ear cleaning bulbs for babies), climbing the female trees on skinny, scrawny little wooden ladders, and then shooting the male pollen out onto the female fruit through the squeezy bottle nipples. Sounds just like sex, right!?? Strange, human assisted, tree sex. It’s like in vitro for fruit.<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span><p></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">About half of each huge bunch of dates is cut out of the middle of the bunch and sacrificed so that the rest can reach top quality status.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Too much rain will kill the dates, so each bunch (EACH BUNCH ON EACH TREE!) must be hand-wrapped in a waterproof cover to protect them from the rain during the rainy season.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Dates grow on palm trees!! I thought only coconuts grew on palm trees.</span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Shields Date Garden encompasses the date farm, the gardens and biblical walk, an outdoor event space, a small movie theater where we learned all about the romance and sex life of dates, an inside café, an outside café, a gift shop, and… a soda fountain. And at that soda fountain one can purchase something so delicious, so triumphant, that my mouth is watering just thinking about it. A date shake. Yes, a milkshake made with dates. Mr. Shields, the founder, created a way to dry and crystallize dates to make a sugar substitute. When these crystals are blended with ice cream and milk, sweet creamy heaven emerges. Really. I want one right now.</span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Oh, I forgot to tell you—this morning, before we left for the day, we realized that we had forgotten to toss the states last night. So, Lori did the first toss. Twenty state puzzle pieces went into the bowl. Only eight landed face up. Still in the running for next year are: Arizona, Texas, Missouri, Alabama, South Carolina, New Jersey, Delaware, and Maryland.</span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">After exploring almost everything Shields Date Farm had to offer (we skipped having lunch at the café in order to better and more fully enjoy our date shake), we set off for Joshua Tree National Park (JTNP). We decided not to purchase new tickets online and instead to plead with the gate ranger to let us use the picture of Lori’s annual pass that she has on her phone. This turned out to be unnecessary, as there was not even a pay gate at the southern entrance of the park. There was a visitor’s center selling park passes, and we went in, but were told that we would be asked to see our pass on the way out of one of the other two entrances to the park, and we could ask about the picture there. Fine with us, so we went back to the car to begin our first drive through the park.</span></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgthvAAVrpVnHRix6tOS7CBF9wLQae4NMDCuoN-0H-1582tU55FkLPTz2W0gafG_r0ismeyL7uItW8T_jlwK-UHg9UtjLogdNsvDiDqMSGdiOWPjNxl82UZwblf47SMKK3tNd77ulQKp8A/s2048/E297BF74-296B-48CE-9E2C-D8F9DE41BB40.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgthvAAVrpVnHRix6tOS7CBF9wLQae4NMDCuoN-0H-1582tU55FkLPTz2W0gafG_r0ismeyL7uItW8T_jlwK-UHg9UtjLogdNsvDiDqMSGdiOWPjNxl82UZwblf47SMKK3tNd77ulQKp8A/s320/E297BF74-296B-48CE-9E2C-D8F9DE41BB40.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiUrnwq_p76rx1K-T1k8GJV7_BoFvhOXHriKGdl_Fy87I4uKfoeQWk7NTHLNlRTjG3ySa-UXN7LCS2M9BPuSpXEAf1of2DOgqmmW0TA_QyMm32xkod1Rdz_lgPEZ5G8eRF2O0qaW2QM0I/s2048/B3AB11B8-3C2B-4C82-AAD9-F4B0C3CDDC0F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiUrnwq_p76rx1K-T1k8GJV7_BoFvhOXHriKGdl_Fy87I4uKfoeQWk7NTHLNlRTjG3ySa-UXN7LCS2M9BPuSpXEAf1of2DOgqmmW0TA_QyMm32xkod1Rdz_lgPEZ5G8eRF2O0qaW2QM0I/s320/B3AB11B8-3C2B-4C82-AAD9-F4B0C3CDDC0F.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />JTNP spans two deserts. The southern half, where we entered, is in the Colorado desert. There were some interesting cacti, lots of desert floor, and many huge mountains of small (tennis ball sized) to large (basketball sized) rocks. HUGE mountains of them, as if Gulliver had offloaded handful after handful of different sized pebbles down into the land of the Lilliputians. As we continued to drive north, and the Colorado desert transitioned into the Mohave, the mountainous piles of smaller rocks disappeared, and suddenly the landscape was filled with heaping hills of enormous, awe-inspiring, differently shaped boulders.<p></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Rocks are a main feature of JTNP, making me a very happy camper. I absolutely love rocks. More than once, Lori has had to stop me from pausing to stare and marvel at rocks so that we could get to where we were going. Anyway, JTNP is full of gorgeous rocks of all sizes, the result of volcanic activity underground. According to the information on our park map, a special form of granite magma rose up from deep inside the earth, broke through overlying rock, and then cooled and crystallized underground, causing horizontal and vertical cracks to form. The granite kept rising up and came into contact with ground water. The resulting chemical reactions widened the cracks and rounded the edges, and the results were these wonderful boulders that were left piled all on top of each other as the earth eroded.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUfokKyfGBNubaGYl4AlkIUhK9bBt3uV8RxmkTRCaFo3YoqphPftUXCnuoE6cOWHYVG8ZlY3lDb2EDYCcD19roVpxhpedyTo_iUu6sQ_Jo8Hu8l-gv2DULcpTywuCfn0OGp-6buYFhdE/s2048/1E748155-13E8-4846-B4D8-67A6DDFD2A22.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUfokKyfGBNubaGYl4AlkIUhK9bBt3uV8RxmkTRCaFo3YoqphPftUXCnuoE6cOWHYVG8ZlY3lDb2EDYCcD19roVpxhpedyTo_iUu6sQ_Jo8Hu8l-gv2DULcpTywuCfn0OGp-6buYFhdE/s320/1E748155-13E8-4846-B4D8-67A6DDFD2A22.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />W</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">e made three stops on this initial venture into the park. First, we stopped at the Cholla Gardens, which were in the Colorado Desert side. Almost out of the blue, fields of cholla cacti seemed to spring up from the ground where 20 yards earlier there had been none. Lori and I loved (carefully!) walking through and looking at these smallish cacti, which seemed to have quite a lovable quality to them. They appear fuzzy, cute, and huggable, but the hugging would not last long, as they are completely covered with sharp needles. After walking the marked path through the Chollas, we drove further north. Soon after the landscape shifted to become full of the huge boulders, we stopped again to take pictures, and I just had to go climb up on a couple of rocks to enjoy the better view.</span></div><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Our final stop was to visit the well-known Arch Rock, an area with boulders forming a natural arch on top of other boulders. This place is particularly gorgeous at the time of day we went, about half an hour before sunset. We were a bit disappointed to discover that all the great pictures one can find online of people standing under the arch must be taken from the vantage point of another pile of boulders across from it. I was having a good ankle day, and made it up to stand under the arch, but Lori’s knees and feet have been misbehaving lately, and she was too smart to risk the climb up onto the Arch Rock, or onto the boulders across from it to take pictures. I was able to get someone else to take a picture of me, and Lori and I were able to wave to each other from high and low rocks, but sadly, the angle just wasn’t available for Lori to actually see through and take a good photo of Arch Rock from the ground.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UzeNNgI3CwzNp0VHsE1ZUy9G1dxQpWW9_4cq3iRjxk_-IpBdEIPh6vj45u2CzlRBTuuIwbo42YUf95XsZO-bY1UBZrnyyXofx29Rb2uY_1RO9u8tLSlU0IXT-Vl5sDgY7JNdKtjCTAk/s2048/71FC9515-4F39-48F1-B3C8-94673AEA88AE.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UzeNNgI3CwzNp0VHsE1ZUy9G1dxQpWW9_4cq3iRjxk_-IpBdEIPh6vj45u2CzlRBTuuIwbo42YUf95XsZO-bY1UBZrnyyXofx29Rb2uY_1RO9u8tLSlU0IXT-Vl5sDgY7JNdKtjCTAk/s320/71FC9515-4F39-48F1-B3C8-94673AEA88AE.heic" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="yiv1203845337ydp1dda4950MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">After leaving Arch Rock we drove back to the apartment, I started writing the journal, and Lori made dinner. After dinner we shared all our pictures, called the hubbies, and watched one-and-a half episodes of Squid Game, before deciding to go to bed. It was time to perform the day’s second tossing of the states, my turn this time. After the toss there were three puzzle pieces remaining, but they represented five states. One of the pieces contains Maryland, Delaware, and New Jersey, which are all too small to have pieces of their own. The other two states still in the running are Missouri and Arizona. Lori is rooting for Arizona because she’s never been. I would like to go to Missouri. As always, it doesn’t matter where we go. I swear, we would manage to have a great time sitting in a rain ditch, enjoying each other’s company. Good night!</span></p></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEHCqsNqBNdnaTAgZiLJRkQBywLk2Zl_6SUwVp8dQWq7WiGm6cNGBWoR178xV3sJpQkxYeMW9ma-zyciayo2fTQrRiAekTtuaNV1zX-Hg2VFX1Q8oXxRl-C1I-2oVxL4B2ZW-4FpaBhE/s2048/E8FB810C-3272-447B-92B4-8416077DBBAA_1_201_a.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEHCqsNqBNdnaTAgZiLJRkQBywLk2Zl_6SUwVp8dQWq7WiGm6cNGBWoR178xV3sJpQkxYeMW9ma-zyciayo2fTQrRiAekTtuaNV1zX-Hg2VFX1Q8oXxRl-C1I-2oVxL4B2ZW-4FpaBhE/s320/E8FB810C-3272-447B-92B4-8416077DBBAA_1_201_a.heic" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br clear="none" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /></div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-30944051247926349782021-10-23T11:15:00.000-07:002021-10-23T11:15:34.304-07:00Girls Weekend 24, October 21, 2021. <div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Thank the Lord and pass the biscuits, it’s once again time for Girls Weekend! This is one of those years when I have been looking forward to Girls Weekend as I would an oasis in the desert…if I can just get there, I can be saved! The year 2021 for me, for various reasons, has been at least as stressful as—if not more stressful than—the first year of the pandemic. So let the healing powers of GW 2021 begin!</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHOB5gQrUIFT1zoDRK_jJTHIN3SS6mnp_hEvyuBl8j5NQZyQ8UqOaqy7rvDUx0lYrGkoHDLqofCaeFwlwgLUB680UPBhDgPrefBFTqSS6J4mc5Ll53iFmBGJK8gtQzKqns0_65LehCLuU/s2048/86BDD131-0AE9-44D8-83B4-614ACE854436.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHOB5gQrUIFT1zoDRK_jJTHIN3SS6mnp_hEvyuBl8j5NQZyQ8UqOaqy7rvDUx0lYrGkoHDLqofCaeFwlwgLUB680UPBhDgPrefBFTqSS6J4mc5Ll53iFmBGJK8gtQzKqns0_65LehCLuU/s320/86BDD131-0AE9-44D8-83B4-614ACE854436.heic" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisemtz_CwcmlYfMKxRASy8JIAZbkFmjo85T19dZa-x1OEQCXY3RDyrTyOrKze-BTkdjttaWKs84FQeZzMunKwL7gHR_x1YAnIABQQbujApm2ZaLd19ftWvNNC94Fo4DfoWcyxlTEKEqVI/s2048/EDE3F8F4-FBB8-4694-BA17-E1FC3E6BFC0A.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisemtz_CwcmlYfMKxRASy8JIAZbkFmjo85T19dZa-x1OEQCXY3RDyrTyOrKze-BTkdjttaWKs84FQeZzMunKwL7gHR_x1YAnIABQQbujApm2ZaLd19ftWvNNC94Fo4DfoWcyxlTEKEqVI/s320/EDE3F8F4-FBB8-4694-BA17-E1FC3E6BFC0A.heic" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></div><p class="yiv9673638791ydp37614164MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Thursday, October 21, 2021</span></p><p class="yiv9673638791ydp37614164MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">So, last year the tossing of the states revealed Nevada as the destination for this year. We immediately decided we would go to Lake Tahoe, and furthermore, that we would make it a double state year and add California, as Lake Tahoe is right on the border. We have very particular rules (no, really!??) around counting two states in a year, including spending quality time in each state. This means either staying in a border city and planning activities in both states or picking up and moving halfway through GW. We have only done this seven times out of the 24 years of GWs and were looking forward to the opportunity to increase out state count. After all, we are 61 and 62 years old, and we have done 29 states and DC. That means we have 21 states left. We are leery of needing to clamber over the Colorado mountains at 81 and 82 years of age, so the opportunity to easily do two states was attractive. Alas, God sent the fires, and our Lake Tahoe Airbnb was smack in the middle of an evacuation site. So, we changed our destination to southern California in a relatively fire-free area. And now, here we are, at the foot of Joshua Tree National Park, 20 minutes from the Palm Springs airport.</span></p><p class="yiv9673638791ydp37614164MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Our travel day was uneventful. My husband Eric was grateful that for once I was not flying out at the crack of dawn, and instead had chosen a respectable 10:30 am (EST) flight that went through Las Vegas. Lori’s flight out of Portland left at 8 am (PST). After accounting for all the time zone and flight length differences, Lori ended up having to hang out in the Palm Springs airport for almost 4 hours waiting for me. We are always happy to sit around waiting for each other, as there is always a book to read or people to watch or whatever. Despite the horror stories we’ve been hearing lately about the sudden rampant disorganization of Southwest Airlines, my flights were smooth, easy, and on time. I arrived in Palm Springs at 2:30 pm (PST) and Girls Weekend officially began!</span></p><p class="yiv9673638791ydp37614164MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We had rented our car from Turo, my new rental car option of choice. It’s like the Airbnb of car rentals, and you are using someone’s personal car. The rates are noticeably less than commercial rentals, and so far I have no complaints with the quality and cleanliness of the vehicles. We picked up our cute little blue Honda Fit in the parking lot and set off for Desert Hot Springs, where our Airbnb is located. Lori’s brain apparently fell out of her head while packing for this trip, and she forgot her National Park pass, her hub/port that allows her to unload pictures from her camera to her laptop, and seemingly every charger she ever owned. So on the way, we found a Best Buy so she could replace those items, a Chase Bank so she could get the cash she has also forgotten, a Starbucks to grab a couple of iced chais and a bottle of water for me because I was absolutely PARCHED, and a Total Wine store for a nice bottle of Cabernet.</span></p><p class="yiv9673638791ydp37614164MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We found our apartment and easily navigated all the codes to get in, and then spent some time lugging our bags up to the second-floor space. Lori and I both have some bad knees, ankles, and feet, and are almost at a point where we’ll have to start paying attention to whether or not stairs are involved in our lodging choices. By the time we had moved everything up to the apartment, it was about 6:00 pm. We explored our space, settled down for a nice catchup chat, and then headed out to find a grocery store so we could stock the kitchen. After we returned, we unpacked, made a quick dinner, and then started watching Squid Game on Netflix. We made it about halfway into the second episode before calling it a night (actually, Lori was already asleep on the floor by this point, so really it was I who called it a night, woke her up and told her to go to bed.)</span></p><p class="yiv9673638791ydp37614164MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Even in (or perhaps because of?) its lack of remarkability, this day has been quietly wonderful. Girls Weekend is truly the saver of souls.</span></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-3011037952312750712020-10-18T15:15:00.003-07:002020-10-18T15:15:39.573-07:00Girls Weekend 23. Thursday, October 15, 2020. Charleston, West Virginia<p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGq2KwAoiR5AEs6stIDqhI6L677Lfr238avMIhdbL0XihpIESnt9GQd34goYb9tNMoz3-OTj9G7L2XLwDh-ohVUsK-wuyhnM_suRSwa2fC8WkVFhBlKEA9qLENPa7QJNGJQxwekSh4a8Q/s4608/DSCN1338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGq2KwAoiR5AEs6stIDqhI6L677Lfr238avMIhdbL0XihpIESnt9GQd34goYb9tNMoz3-OTj9G7L2XLwDh-ohVUsK-wuyhnM_suRSwa2fC8WkVFhBlKEA9qLENPa7QJNGJQxwekSh4a8Q/s320/DSCN1338.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />Hey guys! It’s Kathi writing up the last post from Indianapolis, three days after our safe return on Thursday night.<p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Lori and I are always careful to make sure we have been great guests, so after eating some breakfast we spent the morning packing up and making sure we took care of any loose ends before leaving this wonderful Airbnb. At about 11:00 am, once we were satisfied that we had done ourselves proud, and that the owners would be happy to welcome us as guests again, we locked the door behind us and went out to the car. We did not leave immediately however, as we decided we would make our last day count. Therefore, we sat in the car and plotted an alternate route home that would take us a bit out of the way, but that would avoid major highways for part of the trip. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVjdvURSJwA93aYwFlchN4l_DIBl923UkRFKYS4EJgCT_Sce_gYUrR3zJZfr3WKKd2KFWVGzaOQfqEvTCR6LYrbX5o8j5En6heDu9saVECagqAQTaEUnmWMGKWbGr5BYmXZFxVM4lCV10/s4608/DSCN1341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVjdvURSJwA93aYwFlchN4l_DIBl923UkRFKYS4EJgCT_Sce_gYUrR3zJZfr3WKKd2KFWVGzaOQfqEvTCR6LYrbX5o8j5En6heDu9saVECagqAQTaEUnmWMGKWbGr5BYmXZFxVM4lCV10/s320/DSCN1341.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">This was a great decision! We saw so many great things on our drive home, and I happily pulled over to let Lori get out and take whatever pictures she wanted. I even helped her spot an entry for one of the Photocrowd categories. At one point, this pulling off the road involved literally burning rubber, as we saw something at the last minute and there was traffic behind us. I told Lori hang on while I slowed only a bit before swinging the wheel to pull us off the road and then slammed on the brakes so we wouldn’t hit a fence. Lori was super-excited about the resulting photos, and seemed to recover nicely from our precipitous exit off the road. We continued on in this manner, and were hugely rewarded when we decided to avoid a traffic slowdown by detouring through Greensburg, Indiana, where A REAL LIVE TREE IS GROWING OUT OF THE ROOF OF THE COURTHOUSE!! Did any of you know about this? We couldn’t really believe our eyes, so of course, while Lori got out to take pictures, I looked it up. <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/courthouse-tree&source=gmail&ust=1603135108529000&usg=AFQjCNGLEf1f4EMw0cGue-03m6mIcQE1Fg" href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/courthouse-tree" rel="noreferrer noopener" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">You can click here</a> if you’re a nerd like us and want to know more. It was so fascinating, and I can’t believe as an Indianapolis native, I never heard about this before! Lori will enter her pictures into a category on Photocrowd called “Urban Trees” and it must surely do well there. I mean really, how much more urban can you get than a tree growing in the midst of city government?</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpEeAFn5jfo-HxcHIgomRzgRXNlfQ9Xsq9r6KhTBBqxABZsDH4trOEa6c5TwFsdpK-3XPZRw_QECoIcKwwG0P1jBL_Hn6SuMrfcAIj-huGqeK4ogWI64tkEzHHWZbMCCya2eS0r-i4Ah4/s4608/DSCN1346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpEeAFn5jfo-HxcHIgomRzgRXNlfQ9Xsq9r6KhTBBqxABZsDH4trOEa6c5TwFsdpK-3XPZRw_QECoIcKwwG0P1jBL_Hn6SuMrfcAIj-huGqeK4ogWI64tkEzHHWZbMCCya2eS0r-i4Ah4/s320/DSCN1346.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Eventually we got back on the road, and during an awe-inspiring sunset, pulled up in front of the Plainfield home where Lori’s brother, mom, and sister-in-law live. Lori spent a couple of days with them before flying back to Portland and then driving to her home in Salem, OR, arriving safely late last night. Thank you God for safe travels and best friends.</span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WpP3CNvopjzdagtbW9zInyOrZzYUF0PtfXHvoV-LzcO8_Xu5h1R4n5exM85NvAS1p0VM7pybBBPFa5q4ru86ikzDFgUjUjog0KiaY0X0S0NA1cQKmvw6_NeCDGxE4h5zpoM9rYwVmbE/s4608/DSCN1356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WpP3CNvopjzdagtbW9zInyOrZzYUF0PtfXHvoV-LzcO8_Xu5h1R4n5exM85NvAS1p0VM7pybBBPFa5q4ru86ikzDFgUjUjog0KiaY0X0S0NA1cQKmvw6_NeCDGxE4h5zpoM9rYwVmbE/s320/DSCN1356.JPG" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5059233763446610674.post-29965852917519314002020-10-18T15:09:00.001-07:002020-10-18T15:10:19.628-07:00Girls Weekend 23. Wednesday, October 14, 2020. Charleston, West Virginia<p><img height="311" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/vifuQTK6C9I9LPaUvMECdJZ2rOfmMcLbuYydnYunQt4H6gA96XINKs9cTMvbp0dNCeBm6IOsBI1R4TcobvBJ28o7zCw_M4czX23sEcDGUrDOeCvrraK-kYasbPsgImCG-LEQUb7b" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" width="416" /></p><p>The last full day of Girls Weekend 2020. Kathi and I both always hate to see this day come, but it inevitably comes every year. We are blessed with a stunningly beautiful day and have decided that we will make the one hour drive out to Hawk's Ridge State Park. We have told by a few people that, not only is the park and its overlooks beautiful, but that the drive out to the park from Charleston is also beautiful. We made our way east on Highway 60 out of Charleston and made a few stops along the way to take photos. We noticed a lot of industrial sites along the Kanawha River and I believe that most, if not all, of them are related to the coal industry. We stopped at one, the Mammoth Coal Company Preparation Plant where there was a mountain of coal with conveyer belt system and towers used to move the coal from the mine to the site and clean it. A couple of nice gentleman headed into the site stopped and talked with us a little bit about it when asked. Apparently the coal is moved underground for some distance along a conveyer belt, then it comes up out of the ground and to the preparation plant. I have to say that, while the process is interesting, it really isn’t pretty.</p><p><img height="373" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-8bpBEjlYzxGnrAXCPgs-KHEOJ-u2aUzBPnqqg08KnlutM79yFpZwxYtUnh7fBc5ESuowRo7pOQE_dNbnB77WzTjGtKMeLUJO1gtZhwrVsCCr8heGSUYdZPZdlvmptP8R44hA4md" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" width="498" /></p><p>We stopped again to take photos at Kanawha Falls. I think there is a museum here that we missed and didn’t find out about until we were well past it, but it looks as if these falls may have been used to generate energy based on the structures that were there.</p><p><img height="226" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/9upBs0ezqc58EyoYrWuXBtNXhXH32g9u9Qa2FvbvYP-4cMLI9iXCm2d6zbgxrXhwvmY6ho_AvbKyK7IobMDuF2hcOttrMDBVIoSM2UTIEblGX9kcax6sJoMsjLCQkvRFapG8nc17" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" width="302" /><img height="227" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/WE7mPQAeFJxtaHzoZrJZpco2U30RP31kHAu9QvnW5Kk_HKXRJgu34U0Ru3onXmIxg5mqCtg3mysLmerUc6tB1TOyBDmFz4eMeIDl4l7-pZHXN2JkazvC7TnpQWBaX96lUX1Gl9n7" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" width="303" /></p><p>We then drove the rest of the way to Hawk's Nest State Park, where we stopped at the Hawks Nest Overlook which afforded us a view of the New River.</p><p><span style="border: none; clear: right; display: inline-block; float: right; height: 301px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; overflow: hidden; width: 227px;"><img height="301" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/yjArZZ-5lhkdeYV8H3zwkYxGWG3OtF3y9Cd9_cT6mJPmAA0aaWYDRBliztu_vYcZiJXlQoYtUbduPdRBzYSQjuyI42gun9Mwfm9QKuPBJTEZmaiffV5e5NNAzzghNSFKcRvx3Apv" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="227" /><img height="300" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/1qU3tG8E4Q3u-TCBIMh3CsykchAHy-S9JRaZubEnwAYFzqSxcXB9iHe6f4UefAvl4N1ojmkWCMuHjGFAyxotEMPWRmc43ntp2EcmsvpjcX6nWEBaKAcv9pxJq2VIjZyBmhBrPeRc" style="font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="224" />After enjoying this view for a while, we moved on to the Lovers Leap Overlook which is near the lodge where one can stay in the park. There is a tram here which Kathi and I would have truly enjoyed riding, but unfortunately was not operational while we were there. Probably because of COVID. We did walk down the 100 + steps to the Lovers Leap Overlook for another view of the river.</span><span id="docs-internal-guid-a82c272b-7fff-3a84-04b7-1c4107f04162"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></p><p><img height="300" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/1qU3tG8E4Q3u-TCBIMh3CsykchAHy-S9JRaZubEnwAYFzqSxcXB9iHe6f4UefAvl4N1ojmkWCMuHjGFAyxotEMPWRmc43ntp2EcmsvpjcX6nWEBaKAcv9pxJq2VIjZyBmhBrPeRc" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" width="224" /> <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">After enjoying this view for a while, we moved on to the Lovers Leap Overlook which is near the lodge where one can stay in the park. There is a tram here which Kathi and I would have truly enjoyed riding, but unfortunately was not operational while we were there. Probably because of COVID. We did walk down the 100 + steps to the Lovers Leap Overlook for another view of the river.</span></p><p><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 371px; overflow: hidden; width: 278px;"><img height="371" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/iz8mGYX5VjGI-M94Bk_8L0s565ZMRD8AM-7guq3y-_D1LgWMfkNGomr3HYQIof5ozJO7-CdupIAGFW1Q42UDVk-KCAntgtfeqATtKXuYIhOGNB-6GWQyvv53uOikfQ4xMQUMmWYr" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="278" /></span><img height="369" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/KXmKX4S6eBm6Vnrc2ATMGuZapaAi12Tq3DgE47wWE8vugcosseTfVHIpTLrlvzEe3ymQh40HAjiJiVob2q7l47QFP5IVvgoVx_dkHdx7xVbozqow9NLcfsHtSh9IEg4vkgc2LCtY" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" width="277" /></p><p><img height="268" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/WkzI9WafMtGoT8HCuAyMTteVDVfTdRb1V2m_eBm06ml1SRzppIVFGxlezcSvlcQjfrhqdYFC-CANdVkgl1paeH4RnMuW58M-GCzZQmH1jYaKsJHRRHx5MlLrA2AaX6deOx2PQilk" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" width="358" />After climbing back up the steps here, we headed<span id="docs-internal-guid-810ec782-7fff-6a3a-8566-b36ecdfe893c"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span> toward Fayetteville, where we had a date with an escape room, but I saw the sign for the New River Gorge Bridge, so we made the turn so we could go get a look. The New River Gorge Bridge was completed in 1977 and is the longest steel span bridge in the western hemisphere and the third highest in the United States. The bridge is one of the most photographed places in West Virginia so we felt it was worth a stop. We were not disappointed. It truly is a work of art in a beautiful place.</p><p><span style="border: none; clear: right; display: inline-block; float: right; height: 222px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; overflow: hidden; width: 296px;"><img height="222" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/FbDPHghKq2taGYLeCSkpYq4FE37a9VgeIE751Tt0LHq3lQgemfDdbV1I12YgUU62gEeFPexEuTG-KyAJQtNABldzTQa7EO_c7v89ikTVkzThdpzRjMzSJT45mAoApO2UBHNyAjwS" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="296" /></span><span id="docs-internal-guid-1f113424-7fff-4e09-8fad-3ce3cfe432a9"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></p><p>It came to our attention while we were here that the New River is designated as a National River. Kathi and I both had no idea that there was such a thing as a National River but apparently there are many!! We are such nerds because we love learning things like this!</p><p><br /></p><p><img height="221" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/E5-34vuor_8DI5jPzNK4kLfKy_mHaOTTZD6WpvS1HKmbj8_zls4fl3l0OicXEvxVHAwsDhIzbetXHZZjfLt0ZV0A9JbnOeBje16F8tN09zmHAbPcBjSdf_EI0HAEQI4VOOpqtP2F" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" width="295" />From the bridge we made our way into Fayetteville, where we had booked an escape room adventure. We went to the Escape-A-Torium and I booked us into the Mothman adventure. If you follow along with these journal entries, you probably already know that Kathi and I have done SEVERAL escape rooms together and have failed to successly escape ANY of them in the allotted 1 hour time period. We are hoping that this one will be the exception. One thing we have learned over the years, however, is that the more people you have in the room with you working to find the clues, solve the puzzles and unlock the many locks the more likely the success. During these COVID times, though, they are not allowing strangers to work together. If you book for two people, then you work to escape with two people. Hmmmm, we felt that this may put us at risk for yet another failure, but we are willing to give it a go!! So, Mothman. For those of you that are not familiar with West Virginia lore, you may never have heard of the Mothman. Kathi had not. I would say that the best way to describe the Mothman would be to say that he is West Virginia's version of Bigfoot, but he has wings, red eyes and can fly. There is a movie called "The Mothman Prophecies" starring Richard Gere and Laura Linney that is supposed to be loosely based on actual events that occured in Point Pleasant, West Virginia between November 1966 and December 1967 in which this unusual creature was spotted several times by various reliable people. I have not seen the movie but think I will add it to my Watchlist/</p><p>The storyline of our escape room adventure is that we have been hiking in the New River Gorge area when a storm moves in and we seek refuge in an old coal mine. Lightning strikes nearby and causes a cave-in at the entrance preventing us from leaving. We are forced to find another way out and in searching for that exit, we discover a journal left by a miner that leads us to believe that we are in the lair of the Mothman, who will return at dark. It was a GREAT escape room adventure and we really enjoyed it, but we were, once again thwarted and did not make it out. Maybe next time!!</p><p>We returned to our house, settled in for the normal evening routine in front of our computers, made dinner of leftovers (we had packed and eaten meat and cheese rolls and snacks while out driving around). We watched a couple more episodes of “Silent Witness” and crawled into our beds for one last night in West Virginia.</p><p><span id="docs-internal-guid-af2da1e4-7fff-1d39-3716-cdd7bb8a807f"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 448px; overflow: hidden; width: 598px;"><img height="448" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/0Yg7naTWQwGsfp346ScqDvXB5saaUqgYZAHp4um97PUyG7XfvV_cCSyk3cJzfdBMZkPr2f7NwDfjW8DAjR_H9YEWUPWeGQ_NKnGO_wp32O1NRWMmRdOsrGYqcQkYzIbxfvMGZBI9" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="598" /></span></span></span></p><p><span id="docs-internal-guid-7eb66971-7fff-71a1-f613-75728c501134"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 823px; overflow: hidden; width: 617px;"><img height="823" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/RBA1IFgOisyQWLT3ABJq7vAMf5kErYbRUTDKYL7w4wFojHBteJBauO9YBMNdb3NixhBDWi4yiJTjWce2vS9R7BHxhgG8LEH5ZGbafIcKhRN6G0NAbRlC9xRp5G1QIMOYL13gafyY" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="617" /></span></span></span></p>oregonlorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07024058679227804888noreply@blogger.com0