Refracted Light

Have you missed me?

I've missed myself.

It's been a bizarre week or two around here.

I taught preschool for the very first time last week (2 times) and ended up having a great time entertaining 6 three to four year old children. We danced around a lot and made little quilts on paper with 4 inch squares and spray adhesive and paper plate tambourines.

I was fairly panicked about this because the other ladies that I preschool with all have di-cut cut things with intricacy beyond me; peek-a-boo ghosts with my child's face behind it, little pumpkins that they can color on and stick on a fence to show how they feel, etc.. It just went on and on and I was getting a little overwhelmed because I don't scrap-book or have a Cricut to cut all of these things and how on earth was I ever going to be that cute. It's so not me.

Then I went to lunch with Charette. (I can't get enough of her.) And I was pouring out this particular woe on her shoulder and she, thankfully, was on my side on the "I just don't do that kine of stuff." She thought for a moment and then she said something like, "You should do bread. You're really good at that. They could make their own individual loaves and knead it and everything." That seemed like a good idea. I actually didn't do that (although I think it's on the agenda for Christmas) but having her say that to me totally got me thinking along the lines of "What is Eowyn good at?" instead of "I can't do what they do!".

My letter was I and my topic was water. I'm good at music, books, quilts, and eating Ice Cream. (Convenient, don't you think?). So, on Tuesday we looked at quilts and made our own. We pretended to be a drop of water that went from the clouds down to the mountain, down a river and into a lake, and then we jumped up to get the sun again and became a cloud and then we did it all over again. We had snacks. I let them play by themselves. I read them Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can you? We had a great time with that one because they could make noise, but when I said "sh" they had to stop and they loved that.

Thursday I showed them the various instruments in our house and then we made tambourines and then I played some jigs on my violin while they danced around. (We had to do a triple staple job on the tambourines because the beans kept flying out.) We talked about what we do with water. I let them play and then all the moms came over and we ate Ice Cream.

It was so great. Focusing on what I could do enabled me to relax and have fun and because I was relaxed the kids were able to have fun. Thanks Charette for the fabulous advice.

Also on Thursday Kendra got two teeth pulled. She's still feeling that one.

The rest of the time, or so it seemed (which it really wasn't because I did manage to read at least three books) I played with grapes.

And more grapes.

And more grapes.

I currently have 19 quarts of juice (there would be 20 but we drank one--yum). I also have an insane number of pints of jam. I think I'm over 30 and I still have two batches to go. I have many grape and many grape/berry combo.

I look at the table and think "Really? That's it for all the work I put in?". It took forever. Because I use the pulp for jam we don't just dump the grapes in the juicer. We de-stem everything and wash it. It's a time consuming process. Two batches done by myself of juice only probably took 5 or more hours. The jam is another couple of hours beyond that because I had to stick everything through the de-seeder and then make it into jam. I'm proud of myself, and yet I still am amazed at how little there is for the amount of work we put in. I have to do jam tonight.

Do you know what else I have? Almost 3 gallons of fresh squeezed apple cider. Non pasteurized. Filtered. So fresh that if I don't get it into the freezer soon, I'm going to have a drink that I don't drink. For all that may or may not be coming to my house this week, you have some good stuff to look forward to.

I'm being cruel, aren't I. I'll stop.

I read three books this week.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine. This is not one of my favorites of hers. Ella Enchanted holds the top spot for me. Ironically, Kendra likes the princesses best. (I think she was ruined by seeing the movie of EE before she read the book. The movie was a travesty in my opinion. The book, a gem.)

The Hunger Games and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins. These are books that you don't put down and that will stay with you whether you like it or not. They are not easy reads, and at this point in the trilogy, I'm not necessarily finding them enjoyable. Intriguing? Yes. Well written? Yes. The kind of books that I'm dying to add to my library? No.

I actually liken my feelings about The Hunger Games to my feelings about 1984 by George Orwell, although to a much lesser extent. 1984 completely freaked me out. Most books I could put down if I wanted to, but with 1984 I had to finish it or I was going to go nuts. I had to know how it ended. And how it ended did not help. It took me hours to fall asleep. It was a very powerful experience, but not a pleasant one. The Hunger Games was the same, although to a lesser extent. I read it in about 5 hours. And I was glad to be done.

There were things that read very realistically to me. The romance portion made sense. Other times I was glad that my inner eye--the one that shows me the pictures of what I'm reading--sometimes shows me what I want to see as opposed to what's really in the book. I pictured adults, not kids, and so things that would have disturbed me had I really been visualizing kids didn't bother me because I was visualizing adults.

I've heard they are making a movie. I will not see it. I couldn't bear to be faced with the reality of this book. It would be beyond horrible to me.

In other news, I did something to my back on Saturday and I'm still trying to recover. Thank heavens I am closely related to a chiropractor who expects me to call him when these things happen. Good chap, that. Could I call him Eomer? I can't remember if I've already labeled one of my many brothers with that name, and if so, which one. Theodwyn and Eomund needed to have more children before they died so that this whole me taking on the name of Eowyn would work with my family. (Did you know those were her parent's names? See, you learned something new today!)

Today was spent figuring out my shopping list and clipping online coupons (since I currently don't take the paper). Loved getting Grasshoppers for 50 each and Cheeze-its for some absurd price like 24 cents.

Then I went shopping. I'm hoping that the pair of shoes I just purchased for Seth will last longer than 3 months. The last pair were the cheap Wal-Mart brand and they were horrible. I purchased them just before school started and they already have holes in them. That's frustrating. I'm beginning to hate that particular store.

Oh wait. I already couldn't stand the place. It just got worse.

Sorry that this isn't a cheery, happy post. I've been ornery for days. Between my back and the impending bad week (if you know what I mean) and the fact that it's going to take me days to clean out from under grapes and preschool, I am not in a very good place. I've been snapping at my kids and spending a lot of time (unjustly) angry with Faramir.

Here's hoping things will even out soon.

Friday will help. :)

Off to my last batches of jam!

Posted by Eowyn at 8:01 PM | 6 comments  

Ah, WinCo, how I love thee!
Let me count the ways.
1-Udderly Chocolate
2-Mountain Blackberry
3-Mint Chocolate Chip
4-Mountain Huckleberry
(Where is the mudslide, oh WinCo, I do miss it muchly!)
5-Marionberry Pie

Oh, but I must stop, lest thou thinkest I love thee only for thine Tillamook Ice Cream. Thou must understand that I have been without thee for so long, that mine heart (and tongue) is filled to overflowing with gratitude that you have moved thine abode closer to me. I remember thine ice cream well, so I was gratified and rejoiced muchly that thine ice cream was even better than I remembered it.

I must also praise thine pumpkins at 6 cents a pound, and thine bananas at 18 cents a pound. I love thine bulk foods. I love thine price on hot dogs.

And last, but not least, thou dearest WinCo, I love thine Nazook. Nowhere else in all of mine travels have I yet found Nazook. I have heard that there be places that make it better than thou dost, but as I have yet to find these places, I am happy to fill mine mouth with thine goodness.

Bless thee, bless thee, oh WinCo for coming to me!

(If you live close to me, it's worth the trip for the ice cream alone. If you ever decide to go to Oregon, go to the factory, sample some cheese [remember this is Oregon, not France] and get yourself an ice cream cone.)

Posted by Eowyn at 6:35 AM | 7 comments  

(Oh look! Another book by Eowyn. When will she stop?) (Never. Just come to terms with it now.)

A while back, the fabulous LT Elliot (Whom I really need to meet in person someday since she doesn't live all that far away from me) posted about wisdom hidden in juvenile/young adult literature.

Well, technically, the post was about a little gem she found hidden in a particular kids book, but that's not exactly what I'm trying to focus on here. Stay with me kids!

Can you tell I teach 13 year old kids at church? They quibble over all details. It gets annoying after a bit. A bit being about 5 minutes or so.

Back to the point.

The point is that I was reading more YA literature and stumbled across another gem.

Let us examine The Squire's Tales by Gerald Morris.

Okay, so the link takes you to the first book whilst I am going to examine the third in the series. But I find them all worth the read, so you can start with number 1 if you want. In fact, I'd seriously recommend it since you won't quite 100 percent understand what's going on if you don't.

If fact, I should just stop here and give a spoiler alert. Lots of stuff has happened in between books one and three, so I'd suggest that if you don't want anything ruined for you, you'd better go get the first three and read them before you finish this post. Problem is, in order to understand the wisdom that I've found, you have to understand what has happened in the first two so I'm going to give a quick run down of the major plot-line involved.

I'll wait.

Okay now, Arthurian Romance. Lancelot and Guinevere

Oh.

I guess you already know how it's going to end.

On to the lecture.

Gerald Morris is re-telling the Arthurian legends. He does so in a witty, rather lighthearted way. He does skewer love based on looks and might and rewards the people that really do try to live with honor and dignity. He also allows his hero's to have human folly and learn to rise above it. Nowhere does he do this more forcefully than in book 2, possibly the best that I've read, and I've read about 5 of them.

The Squire, His Knight and His Lady has as it's secondary plot, the Lancelot/Guinevere story. Lancelot is a rather dimwitted, brilliantly successful knight. Guinevere is the queen who loves the man who wins all the fights and looks the best, so she obviously loves Lancelot. At the end of book two, Guinevere is restored to King Arthur (can't remember if that's accurate or not as I never got in to Mallory and all that) and Lancelot runs away to hide.

At the end of book three, our heroine (she's awesome) finds a mysterious wood cutter and begs a boon. He says he can't, and she asks why and it comes out that this wood cutter is really Lancelot, hiding from the court.

And here begins multiple gems of wisdom. (Italics added for emphasis.)

Gem 1

The hero of the story asks Lancelot why he would run away after being defeated once (since our hero is a terrible knight and would have been to Africa if he ran away every time he was unhorsed.) Lancelot replies "But it was different for me. I was the one all the young knights admired. I was the one that minstrels sang about."

Our hero state that he thought Lancelot never paid any attention to the minstrels, and Lancelot replies, "But of course I listened to them! It was how I knew what to do! They sang that knights wore bright clothing, and I wore bright clothing! They sang that knights were devout, and I took my own priest! Whatever they sang, I attempted. It was the minstrels who created me!"

Here, our heroine makes the connection that if the minstrels sang that Lancelot was the greatest knight, then he would be the greatest knight.

Lancelot replies, "Yes, that's it. And when I was defeated. . .I was no one anymore."

I was hit hard when I read this part. Magazines flashed through my head. Magazines that say, "This is who you are supposed to be." Famous people living riotous lives. Rich people carousing. Models showing us "the ideal". All these things hit me as being the modern minstrels. The singers that tell us who we are supposed to be.

It also hit me that everyone will hit a time when they realize they don't live up to the minstrels tales and that if they based their lives on only that, they are nothing. How many sports stars end up in a mess because they know nothing else? How many famous people have to do bigger and better stunts to stay in the public eye because they are nothing with out it.

Am I something more? I hope so. How can I pass this message on to my children and the kids I currently have stewardship over at church.

You must be something more than a minstrels song or when the song stops, you will be nothing.

Gem 2

Our heroine then asks Lancelot how he ended up a wood cutter.

Lancelot recounts some of his adventures and how he ended up at a hermitage, then states, "The ermite asked if I were a knight, and I told him I was nothing. He said, 'Then you must become something. Learn some work. For in an empty world, you can only find joy in labor.'"

Lancelot recounts wandering for three more days and finding an abandoned cottage, ax and oxcart and deciding to stay. Our heroine asks if he has found joy in his labor.

Sir Lancelot nods, smiles and says, "Look at the woodpile, . . .Every log chosen well, cut well, of an equal size. . .And at the end of the day, when my arms and shoulders ache and I eat the food of my own earning, I am content."

When I am most at peace, I am laboring and being productive, a lesson that I firmly believe God wants us to learn. And, if I'm being honest here, a lesson I kick and scream at learning. I am a lazy person by nature. But I have to fight that to have peace.

Which brings me to another thought I've been having, that some of the things that fill me most don't necessarily make me happy. I am not really the worlds happiest person when I'm piecing a quilt, as my children can probably attest to, but I am filled when I see the work of my hands. I don't feel "happy" as I sit here and type this post, and yet I know I am a better person because of it. I feel like the world wants us to be happy, while God wants us to have joy.

I have joy in writing things that make me a better person. I find joy in reading gems that stay with me. I find joy in planning a quilt top. I find joy in finishing that quilt top and giving it away. I find joy in doing things for other people. I find joy in laughing with my husband. I find joy in watching my children grow. I find joy in the sisterhood I have found not only in my neighborhood, but here in the blogging world.

I just have to work for it.

Posted by Eowyn at 9:55 AM | 6 comments  
Labels: Life Lessons

I can no longer say that I never win contests. I've won two in the last little while.

Look at what came in the mail for me from the fabulous Luisa!

Really, it's so cool looking that I don't want to eat it. But I will, because who in their right mind would pass up chocolate!

Oh yes, it's chocolate. I even took a picture with a ruler so you could all see just how much chocolate it is.



I'm drooling just thinking about it.

The other contest was from the fabulous Melanie. She held a contest for a something out of her husbands shop and I won. And I love it!

I asked for the Monterey on mahogany in the larger size.

Here is what I received in the mail.





The workmanship is good and I love the design. Kendra wanted me to get the hibiscus but I'm not so in to them.

Thank you to Melanie and Luisa for making my days a little brighter!

Posted by Eowyn at 6:00 AM | 5 comments  

Sorry to leave you hanging. I type lots all at once and then stop in the middle of the trip and get caught up in life. I'm going to finish now.

Day six was a travel day. Back home to my sick family. I was emotional leaving and, quite frankly, not really sure whether I was ready to come home yet--not that I had any choice in the matter. The plane ride was bumpy but I was under better control, thanks to lots of medicine. It took me a few days to get the medicine out of my system. That wasn't pleasant. But all in all, the day went really well.

Day five was truly a day of highs and lows. When Seamore came into my bedroom and asked if I was up for adventure, I felt great and said, "let's go!". By the time I got down and tried to eat breakfast, I wasn't so sure about this. I had probably 1/4 of an apple and about two tablespoons of yogurt before I knew I wasn't eating anything any time soon.

We popped in the car and drove to meet one of my many brothers. We had three cars so that we could take everyone. I moved to my brother's van, ostensibly so we could talk and get caught up. That didn't happen.

About 5 minutes down the road I knew I wasn't doing anything and my brother told me to put the seat back and take a nap. He covered me with extra blankets and then stopped talking to me. I was very grateful. I dozed in and out of sleep from Philadelphia to just outside NYC.

I looked at the NYC skyline and could hardly believe that I was here and that I felt like crap. We drove through the Lincoln tunnel--which is the first time I've ever driven under a river.

Weird feeling, that. I'm mildly claustrophobic, so I had to close my eyes most of the time, especially on the way in to the city--on the way out wasn't so bad.

The original plan, I think, was to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and then to the Natural History Museum. See, it had been raining in Philly for two days straight by this time, and if it was raining in NYC, we wanted to do some cool inside things. However, about 10 minutes outside of the city we ran out of the rain. It was cool, but it was not raining. Solipsist promptly changed our plans. Which turned out to be a good thing for me. Solipsist told us where to park and we all met there.

FYI, our group at this point consisted of 3 of my brothers and their families and my little sister and her family, and my mom. We were missing one of my nephews who didn't want to come. The total number of people was 18.

Our first stop after parking was bathroom and lunch. When I got out of the car I had numerous people ask me if I wanted to turn around and go back. My answer was, "No!" I have wanted to come to NYC all my life and I wasn't about to let this go to waste, no matter how I felt. Plus, I soon found that being out in the open air and walking was a much better idea than sitting in a car or even being in a building. So we wandered around. Half of the family stopped at a pizzeria but the other half really needed a bathroom, so we went on and found a diner with a bathroom. We opted to have lunch there so that we wouldn't feel guilty about using their bathrooms. I initially ordered a salad that sounded good. My mom ordered French Onion Soup. I took one look at the salad and knew that I wasn't eating that. So my mom and I traded. I only ended up eating the broth from the soup. It was yummy. I love French Onion Soup normally, but every time I ate something solid, my tummy hurt. I was also anxious to get back into the open air.

Because we went to two different places for lunch, the other half of the family finished first. They came, watched us for a bit, and then told us they would meet us at the Empire State Building. We finished our lunch and headed that direction.

I had a fierce internal debate at this point and by the time I got to the Empire State Building, I had decided that I wasn't going up. In my current state of stomach unease, I was very afraid that I would throw up in the elevator. I don't do elevators very well anyway, and the thought of going up 86 floors made me sick. I was regretting this decision, but I felt I had little choice.

Seamore talked me out of that choice. She and The Guy both said, "You're here, you should go up. The elevator isn't that bad." They were right on all three counts. I decided to brave it. I had a pit in my stomach the whole time we walked through the interminable lines to get to buy a ticket and get to the elevators. (Interminable meaning in reference to the maze we had to go through, not that there were a lot of people there. I was lucky in that respect, I think. There could have been a lot more people there, which would have made things worse for me. It was bad enough as it was since I could feel the floor shake underneath me.)

The elevator ride was the best elevator ride I have ever been on. They had music playing which helped distract me, and it was very smooth. What you may not know is that you go up 80 floors and then move to another elevator ride for the last 6. (That comes in handy on the way down because then they can shuttle you through the gift shop.) We stood in line for a bit on the 80th floor, and then decided to take the "walk the last six flights of stairs" option. That was cool for me. I was tired out by the time I got to the top, but for some reason I really liked being able to climb those last six floors.

Then we came out on top.

This is the other thing that I was very surprised by loving. I loved the top of the Empire State Building. I have no idea. I have climbed mountains and enjoyed views much more breathtaking. . .and yet not. I don't know if I was finally feeling better or if I was just so relieved about not throwing up in the elevator. I don't know. But I loved being up there. I could have stayed up there for hours. I wandered by myself for a bit, but then Solipsist and the crew found me up there and Solipsist started telling stories. He talked about why there were the straight avenues in NYC. He pointed out to me where I should have seen the World Trade Center, and the building next to it that will ultimately be torn down. We saw Central Park and Columbia (Solipsist's alma mater). We talked about "the projects" and how if they worked they weren't called projects.

It was awesome.

We went down. I bought all sorts of overpriced stuff at the gift shop, because I'm liked that. One tradition that I'm trying to start is that our family calendar for the next year come from a place that we go on vacation. So our calendar for next year is an NYC/Empire State Building calendar.

I was the last one down. We met at the bottom and talked about what was next. At this point, my mom, Seamore, and Woof-Woof opted out of the day. My mom was really starting to hurt and Woof-Woof is only three. So they left us. I was sad, but I understood.

So, the next question was, did I want to go to Grand Central Station, or Times Square? By this time I was feeling much better, so I made a spontaneous decision and said, "Grand Central Station".

What a beautifully spectacular building! Marble and chandeliers and the zodiac painted across the ceiling. It was so beautiful. I don't have a lot to say about it other than it was gorgeous.

My nephew--who also had never been to NYC--really wanted to see a subway. We were going to go to Times Square, and so the unanimous decision was to take the subway instead of just seeing it.

My first subway ride.

I was grateful it was short. I was feeling better, but not so much that I would have been good for a long ride. I had no idea they were that far underground. I think it's one thing to hear about it, but it's another thing completely to actually go down the stairs and be down there. They weren't as big as I was expecting--height wise, but hello! They are three or four stories underground. I was glad to be with the group because I really had no idea where I was going or what I was doing. We (barely) made our train and off we went to Times square.

I had to take a couple of pictures of the Times Square subway station because I had recently read "The Cricket in Times Square" to my kids. They all wanted to see where Tucker and Harry lived. I took a picture of a newsstand. (I had to take it from far away and I was a little grateful that it came in a smidge out of focus because they sold magazines I don't want my kids to read, but my kids were able to get the idea.)

Then we came up.

Times square was. . .what. . .alive?

Alive.

It's Vegas, packed in to a smaller space. I wonder if people who have seen Vegas will see Times square as super special. Bright lights. Advertisements.

Oh wait, Times Square is far less smutty than Vegas. If I had to pick, I'd pick Times Square.

I love the chairs and tables in the middle of the street--so to speak. We kicked up our heels for a while. I saw the huge indoor Ferris wheel in Toys-R-Us. We went to both MnM world (where I picked up some toe socks for Kendra. She loves them) and Hersheys world. We looked and looked and saw and saw.

Here's one of my favorite shots.

That's the New Years Ball, in case you didn't know.

Times Square was basically the end of our day. We walked back to the cars. (We went through the garment district, I might add. I could have spent a grundle on fabric had we gone through there earlier.) We drove back through the Lincoln Tunnel--after driving around in circles for a while--and headed back to Philadelphia. I was finally able to have a roll and some cheese when we got back to the car, so physically I was making progress. The ride home was fun. I rode back with The Guy and Sweetie. We chatted of his work and church callings and what the last minute 1/2 Stake meeting meant (boundary changes in the wards).

It was a good day.

My impressions of NYC were that it was alive and that I'm not nearly as scared of it as I used to be. It's a city. It has the cities dangers and the cities beauty. And it was vibrant. I'm still not sure I'd ever choose to live there, however if I were called on to live there, I would be okay.

So that was my trip. Yes I was sick, and yes I was letting off much steam, but I will always remember it with happiness. Happiness of being with my family (especially since they are the half that I don't see as much) and seeing new things and feeling a lot of love. I felt (mostly) safe in NYC because I was surrounded by people who love me.

All in all, a very good trip.

Posted by Eowyn at 9:46 AM | 7 comments  
Labels: Memory Lane

(I'm tired this morning. I couldn't sleep last night and when I did sleep it was crowded with strange dreams about J. Scott Savage [who I've seen once in my life] and whether writing was worth giving up family for. I was trying to convince him it wasn't worth it. In a buffet type restaurant. Anyone want to analyze for me? Anyway, because of that I am tired and don't feel great this morning. I do not promise coherency.)

The original plan for Friday was to go to NYC and have a girls day out with Seamore, my mother and another SIL. However, halfway through Thursday Solipsist called and told us that he'd meet us in NYC with his wife and cute son if we went on Saturday. That sounded great to me, as Solipsist is the person I most want to explore the beauties of NYC with. He lived there for four years or so and loves it and, like I said in some other post somewhere, I want to visit places with people that love those places.

As a result of that phone call, we decided to have our girls day out be a Philadelphia day on Friday. So, Friday morning, I got all gussied up and got ready to head on out and have a day. (I really think gussied is such a great word that needs to be brought back in to everyday use, don't you?) We were going to shop and then maybe do a pedicure and go to dinner at my brother's house. Then my SIL called and said that she had something she needed to do in the morning and could we wait until the afternoon and she would call when she was ready.

So Friday morning was spent with Seamore, The Guy (who conveniently skipped work that day), my mom and I sitting in the living room and laughing and talking. Good times. Boring to write about, but good times.

Oh, I should here mention that since I was in Philadelphia, I knew I must have a Philly Cheese Steak sandwich--something that I love.

Around noon the SIL in question called and said that there was no way she was going to finish what she was doing--something tax related--and that we should just do out day without her. That information spurred us to action and also to change our plans. We hopped in the car, Seamore, my mom and I, and sped our way toward Philadelphia. We decided to have our Philly Cheese Steak and then do the historical Philadelphia type stuff.

We drove through town. We crossed city avenue, which divides the rest of the world from Philadelphia. I saw the part of town where Will Smith grew up. He's only sort-of from the hood, i.e. his high school took in some rough parts of Philly, but the places he grew up, even if he was the son of a maid, are not very "hood"-like. We drove past the steps where Rocky trained and I even got a picture of the statue. (How do I feel about a monument to a fictional character? Although, I guess Americans aren't the only one to do that. There is a mermaid in Denmark--which is another thing I want to see in my life.)

We drove past the state hall and saw William Penn and came to understand that the reason the Phillies have done so well the last couple of years is because . . .Oh wait, you aren't at all interested in baseball and don't know this story? I should tell you, not that it will raise your interest in baseball at all, but because it is so indicative of the American sport psyche. Besides, stories like these are the stories that make trips like this worth it, don't you think?

Actually, I'll give you the Wikipeida short version of the story.

The Curse of Billy Penn was an alleged curse used to explain the failure of professional sports teams based in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to win championships since the March 1987 construction of the One Liberty Place skyscraper, which exceeded the height of William Penn's statue atop Philadelphia City Hall.^[1]

The curse apparently ended on October 29, 2008, when the Philadelphia Phillies won the 2008 World Series, a year and four months after a statuette of the William Penn figure atop City Hall was affixed to the final beam during the June 2007 topping-off of the Comcast Center, currently the tallest building in the city.^[2]

There, in a nutshell, is American sport fans. :)

On with the narrative. We saw the Masonic temple and marked its resemblance to an LDS temple of our knowledge. Then we parked and wandered over to Reading Terminal Market.

I loved it. We got our Philly Cheese Steaks and snarfed them down. Then we wandered the market a bit and bought a (small) whoopie pie and some blueberry bread (which was delicious) from the Amish bakery. Unfortunately, my tummy started to turn rather quickly after the sandwich. It didn't get bad until later, but I wasn't in any hurry to eat my (small) whoopie pie.

There were a couple of places on my trip that I surprised myself by really loving. Reading Terminal Market was one of those places. I really, really liked it there. I kind-of wanted to wander more, but I wanted to see the historical sites and my mom doesn't do a lot of walking well. I loved the variety of things all smashed together and just. . .I'm not really sure how to put it into words. Community? Alive? Mayhem that wasn't ornery or pushed? There was not really a huge sense of "I have to get what I want now and you'd better not get in my way." I think I expected frenzied, and it was a little, but it also wasn't. Like I said, I can't put it in to words very well.

Oh, and by the way, it is pronounced "red-ing" not "reed-ing". I've been saying it wrong my whole life and I'm going to have to teach my kids to say it right when they play Monopoly.

We hopped back in the car and wandered over to Independence Hall. Again, I felt like I needed to bone up on my history. Thankfully I had recently read David McCullough's biography of John Adams, so I wasn't completely out of the loop like I was at Valley Forge. But I still felt like a few hours of study into American history would have made the experience a little more interesting, although that's not the word I'm looking for.

We took the tour of Independence Hall with a great tour guide that was cracking jokes the whole time. I enjoyed seeing these spots of history. I also enjoyed hearing the occasional story that we don't hear very often. for instance, except for Washington's sun chair, none of the furniture in the Hall is original. It's all old, but it's not what was in the hall. The British actually capture the hall and used it for a hospital for a while and burned all of the furniture for heat and warmth. I also enjoyed seeing a copy of The Constitution of the United States with someones corrections and markings on it. Very cool. (That is housed in the building next to Independence Hall.)

Then we walked over to Liberty Bell. What I found most fascinating about the bell is how much it has been used since as a motto for freedom of one type or another. The Women's Suffrage movement used it as a symbol. It was used in the anti-slavery movement, as well as the Civil Rights movement. I find it amazing and fascinating when something that is very old becomes a symbol of something new. The battles we fight are not new, I guess.

We were supposed to hang at my brother's house for dinner and we had a little time so we decided to hit an outlet mall. I went in to the Ann Taylor store and came out with little black skirt (I now own two) and a shirt. The shirt actually doesn't fit so well anymore. I think I lost some weight on my trip--remember that tummy that was turning? It was getting worse.

After the Ann Taylor store I finally ate my (small) whoopie pie and we drove towards my brother's house. We had a fun evening there. . .well. . .I guess I couldn't call it fun for me. I got the runs and had an emotional breakdown. This particular SIL has a very calming effect which I apparently needed. I cried and cried.

It's been a bit of a rough year.

Dinner was lovely, although I couldn't eat as much as I wanted, and the company was even better.

We went back to Seamore's house and I crashed.

All in all, a great day.

Posted by Eowyn at 9:43 AM | 8 comments  

No, you didn't skip a post. I just figured I'd better be accurate in my counting.

Love you to pieces!

Day three was a rather uneventful. See, it started raining.

But I am getting ahead of myself. I did forget to mention one rather important thing on Tuesday.

I fell down the stairs!

Um, yes, it hurt. Yes, I have bruises. I also banged up my toe fairly badly. It hurt to walk for a couple of days. I can only blame it on slick socks and Dramamine. (Actually, it wasn't Dramamine, it was some off brand, but it does the same thing.) I could blame it on my sister's all wood floors and stairs, but I won't because I made it up and down those stairs more times and was fine. So I'll blame it on the socks and the woozies.

Another side note. I have the greatest nieces and nephews. My niece, Woof-Woof, commandeered every moment she could get with me. And what did we do?



We read this book over and over again. If you have little girls, you really need this book. I read a few other books as well, but Pinkalicious was the book of the week. Of course, I actually read "Pink"alicious only once. But I did read "blue"alicious and "brown"alicios and I think even a "gold"alicious (not the actual book). But it was so much fun. Woof-Woof pretty much ties everyone around her finger, and I was no exception.

Okay. Back to the narrative.

The Barnes Foundation and Museum.

That was what I did Thursday morning. I had an hour and a half and I left feeling burnt out and yet wanting more time. This isn't your normal museum.

Albert Barnes was a self-made man who wanted to make art accessible to the public. He amassed a large fortune and spent a good portion of it making and filling an art museum (which was attached to his house). This paragraph from the website explains things fairly well.

"The Barnes Foundation was established by Albert C. Barnes in 1922 to "promote the advancement of education and the appreciation of the fine arts." Located in a twelve-acre arboretum, the Foundation is home to one of the world's largest collections of Impressionist, Post-Impressionist and early Modern paintings, with extensive holdings by Picasso, Matisse, Cézanne, Renoir and Modigliani, as well as important examples of African sculpture."

One of the things that makes this museum experience different is that there isn't a painting, and then five feet, and then another painting. The paintings are grouped together on every wall, usually having some color or thematic element in common. Around the paintings are hinges or coat hooks or the like from castles. Also there are beautiful examples of early furniture underneath many of the walls. It all works together to make a cohesive whole. This picture from the NY Times is a really great example of what the whole museum is like.



Random thoughts on what I saw:

1-I loved the African art. I wanted to buy a replica mask, but they were a bit on the pricey side.

2-I got a little sick of Renoir. Barnes and Renoir were friends and I'm not sure there was a wall in the place that didn't have at least 1 Renoir on it.

3-I also got a little tired of negatively clad women. (How's that for euphemistic?) When I went to buy postcards I had to be rather careful because I don't necessarily need to introduce that to my kids just yet. There is a lot of other great art out there.

4-That being said, Renoir is certainly a master.

5-There were some ancient Chinese silk paintings that I found amazing, especially in contrast to the lush, full colored Renoir all around. The sparse-ness and evocative-ness of the simplicity was beautiful.

6-When I finally went upstairs (all of the non-western stuff is upstairs) it was almost a relief for my eyes to see textiles and sculpture as opposed to paintings.

I really need to be able to go there for 1 1/2 to 2 hours a week for about 30 weeks running to really appreciate the grandeur of it all. It really was amazing.

Thursday afternoon was spent reading and enjoying being in a warm house whilst the rain came down. I finished James Dashner's The Maze Runner that day and can I just say, amazing! That book is awesome!

Thursday night one of my many brothers and his family came to dinner. That was a fun evening with good food.

The best moment of the night was all about a quarter.

Imagine, if you will, a group of various aged people sitting around in what amounts to a circle in a front room. The kids have been banging around and in the process have found a quarter. It has been given to one of the adults. There are 6 kids playing around and the floor is clear.

Do you see it?

Now, take the adult with the quarter and have that adult decide to toss the quarter in the middle of the floor.

How can I explain what happened with the kids?

Immediate magnetic attraction?
The quarter equals a black hole and the kids all get sucked to it?
Chickens diving for a kernel of grain?

I'm not really sure words can do it justice. We needed a camera rolling. It was a Funniest Home Videos moment. From every part of the room where there was a child, they all dove for the quarter. It was a hard fought battle with tears in the end.

And the adults just laughed to tears.

Ah to be a child and understand the true value of a quarter.

Happy days.

Posted by Eowyn at 11:01 AM | 7 comments  
Labels: Memory Lane