Rachel Callahan

Into the Mountains We Go.

September 13, 2016September 13, 2016 Rachel Callahan Free Family Vacations, I'm a Glutton for Adventure, Just My Luck

As a refresher, my family – parents, brothers, sister-in-law, nephew and nieces take a family trip every year rather than giving each other gifts. 2016 was our twelfth trip.

As I mentioned earlier, we stayed in a “resort neighborhood” in the mountains for this year’s family vacation. It was in the mountains in North Georgia, a beautiful area to see, but a terrible area to navigate. There were so many shockingly long dirt roads that I began to actually praise ALDOT, our own inept and corrupt department of transportation.

Oh – and North Georgia is at times exactly how they describe Kenneth Parcell’s hometown in 30 Rock.

As excited as I was about this knife shop, the missing apostrophe IN MY OWN NAME hurt.

The “resort”, and I call it that both in truth and because they really REALLY like quotation marks there,

Where is Bill Pound’s other unnecessary quotation mark?!

was actually a gigantic neighborhood laid out over 5,500 acres that were (and still are) seemingly uninhabitable. The impossibly narrow roads (all 170 miles of them) roll up and down continuously as if someone was shaking out a giant blanket in the wind. The houses hang off cliffs and are surrounded by deer-filled woods.

It was quite peaceful and beautiful, but was full of quirks.

One day, we took our kids to the resort’s Mini Golf. It had seen better days – Hole 3 had a traffic cone in it, clearly marking its out-of-order status, which was also apparent by its complete lack of carpet.

But we played it anyway. Uneven concrete and all.

Each hole of the Mini Golf was sponsored by a local company or one of the resort’s amenities.

Such as Dottie, Nancy, and Ann’s services:

The hole would be decorated by theme and matching the sponsor, so this particular hole had frogs, all sorts.

Including this Tic-Tac-Toe frog who’d really lost his butt in the game.

The hole for the Corner Store Café definitely made me hungry,

But my favorite hole was the one sponsored by a local attorney.

The signs around the hole were very stoic and professional, clearly marking this as a well-sponsored hole.

But the décor added to the hole itself – they were priceless.

…Deeds sure has a different connotation when it becomes “Deeds.”

And by the time we got to “Appeal”, Chris and I decided that this was meant to be marital advice, not legal advice.

Because what spouse doesn’t appreciate it when you Say “Pleas”?

We did lots of hiking and running, both in and out of the “resort”, both with and without kids. Chris and I got just barely off the beaten path of the resort and, right after finding Ord, friend of Mater’s,

we came across what I was sure held a body

Who knew that Volvo made Chevy Expos?

Another day, the entire family went to Springer Mountain, a one mile trail at the start of the Appalachian Trail. My brother did not tell me that it would be a 7 mile perilous cliffside dirt road to get there, but with a little bit of eye closing and deep breathing, I survived the trip up.

Thankfully, it seemed we had plenty of time to take our hike before the meter maids made it up the road.

The kids, all adept hikers, did fantastic going up the mountain.

We made it to the top and celebrated by resting, drinking water, taking in the view,

And of course, climbing trees.

On the way home from that adventure, because it clearly wasn’t enough, we took an even longer frightening dirt road (aptly named Winding Stair Gap Road) and visited Amicalola Falls, which was okay from the top,

but then tempted you with 600 steps down to see the actual view.

We managed to cajole the children back up 200 stairs, then sent Chris to get the car to retrieve them.

Chris and I snuck away for adventure and intrigue one afternoon, getting lost on dirt roads and trying to find a trail that ended up being closed.

We took part of it anyway, only to read later that it was closed due to high voltage power lines being put in.

Oops.

Always obey signs, kids.

But we found another trail that was just gorgeous, and ran/walked it together, enjoying all its offerings.

This is why you visit North Georgia.

And of course, due to all the outdoors activity, there was plenty of this.

And this.

Because what is vacation without chill-out time?

Before we left, we ran out back to the delightful woods behind the house to get our annual family photo. Ali was happy to volunteer to be my model for lighting and tripod setup, and I marveled at her total grownup-ness.

Of course, there had to be a spider on that tree we were going to use. Luckily, we had Pop there to quell all spider fears.

We finally got everyone in place and snapped before any other creepy-crawlies found their way into our scene.

And of course, I grabbed a few cousin shots.

Ali, Princess of Organization and Activities Coordinating,

Eli, Prince of Original Ideas and Holder of All Animal Facts,

Tessa, Princess of Quiet Determination and Winning All The Things,

Noah, Prince of Make-Believe and Matchbox-Car-Road-Making,

And Andi, Princess of Playing Happily With Everyone.

All five of them are AMAZING at the whole cousin thing.

30A: 2015 Oops Edition.

September 12, 2016September 11, 2016 Rachel Callahan Free Family Vacations

We were getting ready to go on our annual family vacation when I remembered that I never ever finished LAST YEAR’S annual vacation blog post. We’ve even been to 30A again since this unpublished post occurred, but no matter. I dug it out of drafts to publish as a comparison to this year’s trip. Because why not? It’s my blog and I can publish a year late if I want to. So first I’ll share last year, and my next post will have pictures of this year’s trip.

30A. The phrase (can you call it a phrase?) started showing up on bumper stickers all over Birmingham a few years ago. At first I had no idea what it meant. Slowly, I began to form an idea that it had something to do with Florida beaches…near Seaside…maybe?

I was no expert. I don’t go to Florida’s Gulf Coast beaches very often – I either go to Alabama’s gulf coast beaches or Atlantic beaches. I’m pretty sure this has to do with my subconscious anger at Florida in their beach hogging tendencies. I mean, how many coastline miles did they already have? And they had to swipe the coastline in front of Alabama?

But I digress.

I may not ever forgive Florida for stealing the bulk of our beaches, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t still appreciate those sandy shores {that should be ours} every now and then.

When we started this annual tradition, there were no Grandkids – just a bunch of boring adults. Now, we have a full set that look forward to these trips more than perhaps even the grownups do.

This year for our family vacation, we headed to 30A. This was our eleventh annual family vacation, funded by not giving each other Christmas, Birthday, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day presents. It’s a pretty fantastic deal, not having to pick out small kitchen appliances that each other won’t use anyway.

I was pretty excited to see what this magical place worthy of bumper stickers was all about. I’ve never even been to Panama City (I know right?), so our trip to the beach was a completely new set of small Alabama highways for me to experience. I missed all sorts of fabulous photo ops, such as a field of cows with each one surrounded by its own set of long-necked birds (I suppose they have a symbiotic relationship where the cow attracts bugs and the birds eat the bugs?), and a cotton field with massive cotton picking machines baling up cotton.

But I did manage to catch a few.

Such as this sign. I mean – have you seen Plar Poop that cheap since 1989? I haven’t.

We were bewildered by what that sign could possibly mean, until we found this one.

Those tricksters. Switching letters around at the local Kangaroo must be as much fun as cow-tipping.

We traveled through Opp, Alabama for the first time in my life – all I’d ever heard about Opp was their famous Rattlesnake Races. No one ever mentioned Betty’s flamboyant reputation.

And then there was the restaurant, taking advantage of everyone’s indecisiveness and capitalizing on that mess.

“Where ya wanna eat supper, honey?”

“It don’t matter.”

“Okay then. We’ll go there.”

And then, as we got closer to the coast, we found the place that must have inspired the character of Bubba in Forrest Gump.

“We got Shrimp Stew, Shrimp Scampi, Shrimp Sandwiches, Shrimp Snow Cones…”

But aside from the rural treats pictured above, we found some really spectacular sights on the way down there, too – such as an Alabama State Park that I had never heard of – Florala State Park.

(Which is now Florala City Park, thanks to our state’s politician’s State Park budget cuts.)

We also saw plenty of gorgeous cotton fields, just begging me to get out and photograph them (and maybe pick just one piece of cotton. For the children’s education and all.)

We arrived at 30A and some settled in quicker than others.

Try carrying luggage past this. It works really great.

I have a beach quirk: I HAVE to go out to the beach the first day we arrive, no matter how late, and I DESPISE going out on the beach the day we’re leaving, because it’s depressing.

So as soon as we got our bags out of the car, I headed to the beach with the kids while Chris did the grocery shopping.

(He has a quirk that he loves doing a gigantic grocery shopping trip at the beach.)

(I think his quirk is way quirkier.)

As soon as I reached the beach, I realized why people adored 30A the way they do. The water was Turquoise. I had never seen water outside of pictures that beautiful.

The kids and I stayed out until sunset, loving the beautiful water and sand.

Each morning, my parents made their traditional breakfast of EVERYTHING,

And each evening, I made the traditional trek out to the beach for sunset.

…and moonrise, since they conveniently go together.

Chris and I took advantage of the long, flat running path to grab my longest run ever – 17 miles.

Because that’s relaxing, right?

And the kids, of course, found all sorts of ways to entertain themselves at the beach.

…Until it was discovered that the water was full of jellyfish. At which point they panicked.

…Until the ever-present brave young male beach stranger came up and announced “The Jellyfish don’t sting!! See??”

It took us a few rounds of watching him hold jellyfish to believe him, but sure enough, they did not sting. And so I got to hold a jellyfish in the palm of my hand – not exactly a lifelong dream, but an experience nonetheless.

The neighborhoods of 30A are also fantastic to explore – shops and streets and fountains at which to pose for beautiful photography.

Every house has a porch swing and cozy windows to relax on,

Giving one a chance to be charming to one’s mother,

After having a complete screaming breakdown that morning about getting stuck in one’s own backwards clothing.

Of course I rescued him. AFTER I took a picture. Or ten.

At the end of the trip, there was a giant cousin group hug, that turned into a giant group noogie, as all cousin hugs are supposed to end.

It helps with the whole family bonding thing, after all. As do annual vacations.

Planning Your Weekend For You!

September 9, 2016September 9, 2016 Rachel Callahan Uncategorized

I know, I know – I usually give you more notice about Birmingham Artwalk. But not this year! It’s today and tomorrow, and I would love to see YOU!

Here are the facts:

What:
The best art show in the Birmingham area – over a hundred artists in a fantastically fun atmosphere downtown. There are free kid activities, food trucks, and plenty to do.

When:
Friday – 5-10pm
Saturday – 10am-6pm

Where:
I’ll be at 2312 2nd Ave N – by Rogue Tavern and Urban Standard (in the cool little parking lot on the other side of Rogue Tavern.) The art show goes on for blocks and blocks so you’ll surely not get bored.

Why:
I sell prints and products featuring my photography so that I can give 100% of the profits to The WellHouse, a local organization that actively rescues victims of human trafficking.

What’s so great about this event and why can’t I just buy online?
I have EVERYTHING on sale, and a ton of products that aren’t even for sale online. One of a kind! Creative! Choices! Touch and feel and look in person to decide what you want! And they’re all by far at the lowest prices of the year. And also, I love meeting people in real life. So I want to meet you.

What kind of products?
Prints, metal prints, canvases, notebooks, coasters, note cards, postcards, pillows, bookmarks, magnets, and more! You can check out my online shop to see some of the items.

What would I do with this stuff?
Did you know it’s only 11 weekends until Christmas? Think about it. You could come to ArtWalk this weekend, visit me and all my fantastic artsy friends, and have your Christmas shopping DONE by the time you leave. HOW AMAZING WOULD YOU FEEL THIS AUTUMN.

See you there!!

Three Ingredients For Adventure: Ford, Hilton, and Twitter.

September 8, 2016 Rachel Callahan I'm a Glutton for Adventure, Just My Luck, Weird Strange and True

We left a night early for our annual family vacation so as to detour for an Alabama History field trip on the way. We planned to stay near the field trip destination, a couple hours north of Birmingham.

Except that, 45 minutes out of town, my car beeped, presented a message telling us we needed service immediately, then flashed a wrench icon at us.

Oh – and also, the gas pedal quit working.

On the interstate.

Chris veered into the right lane as I asked rather frantically, “Is that you slowing down or the car??”

He calmly informed me that the gas pedal was no longer working, and I not-so-calmly informed him to get in the emergency lane, don’t just hang out in the right lane as we quickly quit moving.

He got over while I searched the owner’s manual for the wrench icon. What does the wrench mean? It wasn’t in the first section of dashboard emoji – believe me – I looked at every icon four times. Finally I found a second section where it was listed.

“Powertrain or All Wheel Drive Failure. Contact your nearest dealer immediately.”

I don’t have all wheel drive. Which meant it was a powertrain failure. And I don’t know much about cars, but I know that the powertrain is fairly important to the process of transportation.

My vehicle is less than a year old – we bought it new after the wreck. My internal panicking was high, but I also was slightly comforted that it would be covered under warranty.

Chris was still idling, very slowly, toward the next exit – about a mile ahead. Just in case, because newfangled cars, I suggested that he turn the car off and back on again – a reboot – just to make sure this wasn’t computer error.

He said no. He did not want to risk it not turning back on with us on the side of the interstate.

So I called the Ford emergency number, they arranged a tow truck to meet us and take my car to the nearest dealership (already closed and in the middle of nowhere), and we continued to idle, quite nervously, up the exit ramp, across the street, and into the gas station parking lot.

Idling can take you farther than you think.

My bladder was not feeling well from the stress, so I ran into the gas station. When I came back out, Chris had finally rebooted the car.

The error light was gone, and it was running fine.

As I bit my lip to not say ‘I told you so’, I suggested we call my dad (and automobile and in particular Ford expert), get his opinion, and please please please keep going. I knew there was no rental car company open in the rural area we were in, and if we got towed to the Ford dealership, then what were we to do?

Chris and Dad agreed, after a minute of me stressedly insisting, that we could keep going.

Meanwhile, I Googled the problem and found that it was quite a common Ford failure on all models from 2008-2016. The Electronic Throttle Body – the thing that tells the engine how hard you’re hitting the gas – had malfunctioned. Which seems like something Ford would want to recall – an easy fix to prevent cars from losing their ability to drive on the interstate – but alas, Ford apparently thinks otherwise.

We kept driving, and the farther we went, the less my soul was consumed with anxiety. But it was dark now, so I really didn’t want to experience that error again.

Just as I got cozy with the idea that we were going to make it to our destination, it happened again.

This time, Chris calmly pulled over to the emergency lane and rebooted the car.

Seven miles later, car failure #3.

We were an hour away from our final destination, but neither of us wanted to experience this any longer. We were close to another city, Fort Payne, that we knew had a hotel and a Ford Dealership.

So I called Hilton to see if they would be so kind as to move our Hampton reservation from Kimball to Fort Payne. After a few transfers, a couple holds, and multiple retellings of my sad, sad story, they agreed. Without fee, they cancelled my first reservation and got me a closer one.

I was so gushing with thankfulness for the kindness of Hilton that I agreed to talk to their vacation salesman at the end of the call. I really should have known better – this was no time to be planning a vacation or dealing with salesmen – but I even felt kind feelings toward Paris Hilton in that moment.

“Hello Mrs Callahan!! My name is Josh and I would LOVE to tell you how Hilton can give you a deeply discounted vacation!! Only one in fifty callers get to talk to me at the end of their call, so you’re already a winner tonight!!”

That’s one way to describe it…

“Uh, hi, Josh.”

“Now. What prompted you to call Hilton tonight?”

“Well, we’re having car troubles – like my car is dying on the interstate over and over, and I needed to move my reservation to a closer city.”

“Oh my goodness! Well that’s just terrible. So let’s talk vacations. First, though, would you consider yourself single, happily married, or co-habitating?”

“Married.”

“Happily, right?”

“Of course.”

“You’re saying that because he’s sitting next to you?”

My stress was starting to bleed away my Hilton Love…

“We’re VERY HAPPY, okay Josh? But right now we’re just trying to make it to the next exit!!”

“Wow. Okay, Rachel. What kind of car do you have so I don’t get one?”

“A Ford Flex. It’s a fantastic car except for right now.”

“And except for being a Ford, amiright?” (Salesman Chuckle)

I was not in the mood.

“Sure.”

“I was just messing with you, Rachel. Now. Let’s talk vacations. I’m going to give you four destinations, and you tell me which interests you the most. Las Vegas, New Orleans, San Francisco, or Hawaii?”

“You know what Josh there’s no way I can make vacation decisions right now. I’m just praying we make it to Fort Payne. I’ll talk to you some other time.”

Maybe it was my tone, or maybe it was my complete lack of humor at his jokes, but Josh got the hint.

“Okay Rachel. Have a great night!”

Right after I dumped Josh, we had failure #4. Thank God Josh wasn’t along for that – I might’ve veered off my kid-appropriate curse word list.

When we finally made it safely to the hotel, I tweeted a simple tweet about our adventure.

Several people replied to it, I had a couple short conversations, then I put my phone away for the night.

The next morning, Chris had my Flex at the dealership at 6:50am. It was a large franchise (AutoNation) and had a great website where he had been able to get an appointment the night before. We needed to leave Fort Payne by 10am to get to our field trip on time, and I wasn’t feeling too optimistic about that happening – especially after reading that this problem was so widespread that the part was often on severe backorder.

But AutoNation had us covered. They had the part, they’d just replaced someone else’s the day before, they agreed it was definitely the problem, and they had my car fixed, under warranty, before 9am.

Gratefulness again abounded in my heart – I would’ve talked to their vacation salesman for days.

Chris returned victoriously, and we packed up. He mentioned offhandedly, “Did you delete your tweet from last night?”

“No – why?”

“Well this morning, I could see all the replies to it, but the original tweet was gone.”

All of a sudden the world felt creepy, as if the big brothers at Twitter and Ford were looking over my shoulder and had determined that they didn’t want my 140 character memo in the world.

After confirming that my tweet had definitely vanished, I tweeted again.

Chris and I checked for my tweet multiple times as did a few followers – it was clearly gone. I didn’t want to believe they’d deleted it – I work hard at being an Anti-Conspiracy-Theorist in all areas of life.

We left for our journey, and had no more car problems the rest of the trip.

48 hours later, I got another reply to the original tweet, so I went back and checked, and…the tweet had been returned to my timeline.

I felt another chill of conspiracy.

…So they decided to delete my tweet until it was no longer new enough to show up in most people’s tweet streams, then they put it back? How much did Ford pay Twitter for this concierge censoring service?

I’m an open fan of Twitter and Ford – I’m a loyal Twitter user and evangelist, and have written multiple blog posts about my Ford Flexes and how awesome they are. This subtle censoring of my rare negative viewpoint felt a little like I was being accused of being a troll, and this made me irritated.

But I moved on to look at the bright side: at least I had a working car, and I DIDN’T have a discounted Hilton vacation that I would forget to use.

The Varying Degrees of Tubing.

September 6, 2016September 5, 2016 Rachel Callahan Free Family Vacations, I'm a Glutton for Adventure, Just My Luck, Kids: The Experience.

For family vacation this year, we went to a mountain “resort neighborhood” that might have been the most confusing place we’ve ever visited.

But that’s not what we’re here to talk about yet.

While we there, my mom, Ali, and I decided to take a tubing trip down the river that ran through the resort.

The bus was frightening just to behold. But we realized we didn’t know what Bus Fear was until we were on the tiny mountain roads in it, groaning and jolting as it failed in the long ascents, and barreling as it felt way too much like a bus-tragedy-about-to-strike while going downhill.

But before the ride, we were left to sit on the bus and consider our future. Ali looked warily forward to the metal box hanging above the driver’s seat.

“Uh, mom, what does ‘Body fluids cleanup kit’ mean?”

My mom jumped in and started listing off all the instances that could cause a spill of bodily fluids on the upcoming bus ride.

This did not help Ali’s excitement about the ride ahead.

The Mayberry-esque driver bounded onto the bus and began to count. Loudly. Pointing to each passenger as he did so. It felt very much like a kindergarten class skills demonstration.

On the first count, he made it to 34. He threw up his hands and said, “Okay, let’s try again.”

Apparently, 34 was not the number he was looking for.

He started his second round with, “Okay. I got one guy standing up.” Then proceeded to count everyone sitting down, starting at one.

This time, he got to 31.

“Hold on, y’all. I gots ta’ get some help.”

As soon as he exited the bus, all 32 passengers agreed: he never counted the guy standing up. The guy that he singled out to remind himself to count. He was gone long enough for us to do an independent audit and discover that there were actually 32 of us.

He came back with a young guy that looked as if he could count. He quickly checked off that we were all there, and sent us on our way.

Thus began the barreling and groaning.

As we reached the top of a long country hill, the driver stood up, turned halfway around, and announced loudly: “Now I know we don’t have no real air conditioning, but this here is country air conditioning!!”

Then he proceeded to dance wildly, flailing his arms about to…create a breeze? All while the bus careened down the hill.

My cautious daughter gasped and let out a tiny scream.

My Mom, in an attempt to distract Ali, asked her what her favorite part of vacation had been so far. Ali was not ready for conversation. Her bulging eyes turned accusingly to my mom and she screamed, “I have no idea but it’s certainly not right now!!”

Once the driver took his seat again, he decided it was time for a chat.

“Okay. I’m gonna go ahead and go over the safety measures so that when we get to the river, we don’t have to do it.”

He then outlined enough information to print on an 8 1/2 x 11 laminated reference sheet.

“There will be three rapids. On the first one, go right. On the second, go center. On the third, go right. Oh – and there’s a fresh tree down over the river. I’ve heard the rapids will take you right into it – go left! DO NOT GET OUT OF YOUR TUBE, and DO NOT GET OUT OF THE RIVER. The river runs through a gated community, and they don’t cotton to me comin’ to pick you up. They give two exceptions: weather and a medical emergency. If you have a medical emergency, exit to the right. If you exit to the left, there are no roads and I can’t come get you. Oh – and right after the third rapids, you need to start lookin’ for stairs on the left – that’s where I’ll be waitin’. That’s the only time you can exit to the left. If you miss them, and it does happen, DO NOT GO UNDER THE METAL BRIDGE. If you go under, you’ll find yourself in rapids that are NOT SAFE FOR TUBIN’, and you’ll have to be on the river for EIGHT MORE HOURS until you dump out into the lake and I can come get you. Got it?”

Everyone looked aghast.

So he continued.

“Oh – and do NOT take anything valuable on this trip. That includes phones. I had a man lose an $800 cell phone and I had begged him to leave it with me. This river will strip everything you care about away from you. Do you understand??”

Ali looked at me, partially horrified, partially judgey, since she knew good and well that I had my phone tucked into the top of my swimsuit.

We had talked Ali into this little adventure by promising (as the tubing employee on the phone had) that it would be a calm, relaxing float along the river – just like a lazy river! Except a real river! Neither the bus ride nor the bus driver’s ominous speech had made her feel confident in our promises.

We got out and began collecting floats and life jackets, and a worker yelled out at our bus driver, “Did ya bring any of the sticks back?”

“Naw, I forgot.”

“They woulda been real useful for the tubers! The river is movin’ REAL slow today.”

Um. Okay.

Ali grabbed a short stick for me as we got in, then I strapped our three tubes together with our life jackets. The float started off calmly, except for the 32 panicking people from our bus – everyone was a bit frightened at having everything they cared about stripped away from them.

Meanwhile, the river was barely moving. And I was doing way more paddling than I had in mind for this relaxing tube ride.

At the first bend, we approached the first rapids. We went right, remembering our right-center-right directions. They were calm, fun, and not at all stripping away of the things we cared about.

At the next bend, the second rapids. We went center, with the same slightly quickened water pace – just enough to make Ali say “wheee!!” with no fear whatsoever (which should indicate that “rapids” was a strong exaggeration.)

Notice the giant log my mom is holding? Yeah – she managed to steal that from the banks to help us get down this lake of a river.

We saw the third rapids ahead, right behind the freshly felled tree, and began to question ourselves. We’d only been on the river half an hour – it was supposed to be a two hour trip. Surely our trip wasn’t already over…

But there were no stairs on the left.

So we kept on floating.

After twenty rapids that were indistinguishable in ferocity from each other and three freshly felled trees, we determined that our driver’s difficulty in counting was not limited to the bodies on the bus.

And also, it didn’t look like two hour time limit was going to happen.

Ali was done after an hour and a half. We kept trying to encourage her, telling her that any minute we’d be spotting stairs.

After another hour, this wasn’t as comforting. She had her chin resting on her fist with a blank look of death-by-boredom on her face.

So I told her, “Tubing and Canoe trips are always a little longer than you want them to be.”

She jerked up and indignantly said, “A LITTLE?!?”

Just past the three hour mark, after another set of rapids in which we repeated for the tenth time “Maybe THIS is the third rapids!!”, we saw it. Glorious, glorious stairs.

And about ten feet after the stairs, we saw the ominous metal bridge that promised a waterfall and 8 more hours of tubing.

“DO NOT!! MISSSSSSS!!! THE STAIRS!!!!”, Ali screamed at us.

We paddled with all our might, little branch and big branch, and secured our spot on the return trip of what was actually the part we should have been warned ominously about – the bus ride.

Encouragement for the Sick(o) at Heart.

August 31, 2016August 31, 2016 Rachel Callahan Fun With Roadkill, Weird Strange and True

Although I haven’t mentioned it here recently, mine and my dear friend Tanya’s foray into Fun With Roadkill has not stopped.

To recap quickly, there was Sloppy the Squirrel, who held a brief life as a marketing squirrel, and then I gifted him to Tanya in coffee mug form as a celebration of Christ’s birth.

Merry Christmas here’s a dead squirrel!

And then there was Sunset the Armadillo, which I never shared here, but when I came upon him, he was enjoying a gorgeous pastoral cliffside view for one of his last sunsets. Or perhaps it was a few past his last sunset, gathering from the hollowness of his heart….and abdomen. He also made it into mug form, this time for Tanya’s birthday.

Happy Birthday here’s a shell of an armadillo!

Tanya claimed to have cried when she opened her birthday gift. I’ll let you determine whether they were tears of joy or horror.

(Joy. Obviously. Because she’s a nastily wonderful person.)

This past weekend, Tanya took on an unimaginable feat – the Cascade Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run – a total 22,250’ elevation gain and run all at once – no sleeping involved. (This is her second 100 mile run – you can read about the first insane run here.)

As I was driving home from my own paltry 6 mile run Saturday morning, I saw him. A perfectly dead possum*, in my neighborhood, just begging to be photographed to live on forever in our hearts.

The fact that it happened on Tanya’s ridiculously huge race day did not escape me. Clearly this possum was providence – gifted for such a time as this – specifically for her encouragement.

I began frantically spinning the rolodex in my head of Roadkill Staging Ideas. I needed something good, something quick, and something meaningful.

I knew I had a time limitation. I had a homeschool meeting in an hour, and Tanya’s race was starting in two hours. I had to drive home, take a quick shower, get ready for my meeting, gather supplies, and then get back to the Possum – preferably, before he got hit by (another) car.

(And also, it’s best to not show up to a homeschool meeting with roadkill blood under your fingernails. So there’s that.)

But it was a busy road. And a steep one. How would I possibly be able to properly stage and photograph roadkill without myself becoming roadkill?

Prayer. It would take prayer. And also determination. If Tanya could run 100 miles in the Pacific Northwest mountains, then surely I could do this. For her edification.

I parked my car in the middle of the road, right in front of the creature to be henceforth known as Crunchy the Possum, put on my Hazard lights, and before I got out, took a deep breath and prayed a little prayer.

“Please Dear Jesus just for a minute don’t let anyone come up or down this road.”

I hopped out of my car, sprinted to Crunchy, staged him, took three quick pictures, then saw two cars coming down the hill in the other lane. I grabbed the supplies and ran back to my car, hopping in as the first car passed by.

The second car passed slower, and nearly stopped when he got beside my car. He glared at me as he slowly passed by, as if Crunchy had been his very own pet Possum.

(Whatever his underlying issue was, he in his leather-seated luxury SUV clearly didn’t appreciate the art of Roadkill Photography.)

I started my car and jetted around the corner to a safe place to park for a minute to take a look at my photos.

They weren’t perfect. They were hurriedly taken, and I kicked myself for not getting a slightly better angle. But regardless. I knew deep down in my heart that it was just what my friend needed on race day.

And so I sent Crunchy her way, with very little time to lose before she would be embroiled in a race for her life.

And did it work?

It absolutely did.

Tanya (road)killed that crazy insane impossible run in 33 hours and 33 minutes.

The woman is a beast.

(And not even a dead one.)

(And I don’t even think she used a single oil** to do it.)

Am I taking sole credit for her race day courage and victory?

No, of course not. That would be ridiculous.

…Because it was a joint effort between myself and Crunchy. And whoever hit Crunchy to begin with, if you want to get technical.

So, if you ever need to give encouragement to someone who is a completely revolting human being (like we are), you may borrow our dearest sweet pet, Crunchy the Possum.

Because there’s definitely an oil for that.

* I am aware that he is technically an Opossum. But just like they’re buggies and not grocery carts in the south, he is most definitely a southern Possum. So deal with it.

** Dear Oilies: I mean this post in the most sincerest form of fun. Just like my Step by Step Guide to Essential Oils. Oh – and that other oil post. But if you still feel yourself irritated at me, please plug some of that Peace and Calming into your diffuser and breathe deeply a few times before you comment.

On the Growth of a Man.

August 29, 2016August 28, 2016 Rachel Callahan Kids: The Experience., What's That Sound

Noah has been busy lately, growing up and stuff.

He’s become a puzzlingly model student (he has for his entire life held a staunch non-education policy), his imagination is running wild with ideas of commerce, and he got his first loose tooth.

He tried to play the tooth thing cool, just slipping it into conversation one morning.

“Oh by the way Mom, I have a loose tooth.”

He snarled his face into a grimace to attempt to hold the smile back.

But I knew he’d been waiting on that development for years, desperately ripping at his teeth even at three years old, so I reacted with a level of excitement that made it irresistible for him to keep his straight face.

He began working on his tooth, night and day, wiggling and tugging, determined to accomplish this milestone of adulthood as soon as possible. There could be time found for tooth wiggling even at the waterpark.

The milestone brought about philosophical conversations about what it meant, and I mean REALLY meant, as well.

“You can’t have kids until you lose all your baby teeth and get adult teeth.”

Way to set some goals, kid.

Meanwhile, he opened up shop. He became a restaurateur, setting up vast and detailed restaurants in his room. At one point, they were picnic tables outside a food truck, which he named “Rocket City Food Truck.” Later, he opened up a full-service restaurant in my living room floor – and yes, it stayed there for many days.

During the Olympics, he insisted that I create themed décor to encourage more patrons to come, hence the ringed tablecloths.

Nothing made him have to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling more ferociously than for me to yell out “Hey! Table 4 needs a coffee refill! And Table 6 needs more cheese biscuits!! Table 9 isn’t waiting ANOTHER SECOND for their check!!”

To attract a hipster crowd, he built a fantastically fancy Tinker Toy coffee maker. Not sure if it’s French Press or Cold Brew, but whatever it is, there’s some seriously snobby coffee getting made – and the kind you have to hold your mouth just right to pour.

As I was cleaning out some stuff, I found these perfect placemats for him to decorate,

as well as an order pad.

…Because I’m pretty much the coolest hoarder there ever was.

His deductive reasoning is coming along nicely, too – last week, when trying to figure out why Not-Crazy-Renee didn’t answer my text right away, Noah philosophized,

“….Maybe she’s in the car…because she puts sunscreen on her kids when you don’t put sunscreen on us, so maybe she doesn’t text in the car like you do.*”

So yeah. According to Noah, Renee is a much more responsible person than me. All based on sunscreen.

* I do try not to text in the car. But sometimes when I’m at a traffic light, something has to be answered. And my father taught my children to (rightfully) fuss at me when I do. But that’s okay. They tattle on him driving WAY TOO FAST in return.

Noah has also busied himself asking me the tough questions of life, wrinkling up his nose and saying, “Mom, why do you smell like leggings?”

And, while watching the women’s gymnastics, inquiring, “Is there fire rings in the boys gymnastics?”

No, but there totally should be, son. And they should put you in charge of Olympic marketing.

After three weeks of working that tooth with the dedication of a Hyena picking clean the bones of roadkill, Noah came in my room one morning to wake me up, got in my bed to snuggle, and said,

“Oh yeah. I pulled my tooth out last night.”

“Wait WHAT?!? (His sister’s first tooth pull was full-on trauma. I didn’t know how to handle this casual news.) When??”

“After y’all put me to bed.”

“Why didn’t you come get us?”

“Because there was a 5 on the clock.”

“Wait a minute. So you woke up at 5am, pulled out your own tooth, and then went back to sleep?”

“Yup.”

“Did it bleed??”

“No.”

Did it hurt??”

“No.”

“Where’s your tooth?”

“On my bedside table.”

“That’s amazing…”

“I know. So I’m going to leave the Tooth Fairy a note telling her to give me a hundred dollars.”

….The kid has a top-notch brain, without a doubt.

On Learning the Art of Theme Parking.

August 24, 2016August 24, 2016 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, I'm a Glutton for Adventure, Kids: The Experience., Not Crazy Renee

On Friday morning of our two mom/five kid adventure, we sat out for our first true undertaking – to Dollywood, the theme park.

I am quite inexperienced at the whole theme park thing – remember Disney? Yeah – they didn’t even let me in the front gate. So I was beyond thankful to discover that Not-Crazy-Renee is actually fantastically adept in the art of theme park planning and navigation.

I mean, I knew she’d done Disney with a baby (something I would never dream of attempting), but she hadn’t told me how good she was. She just quietly researched the park, and when we arrived that morning, she confidently said, “Okay I’ve studied the map and we need to go down Showstreet and through Rivertown Junction to get to County Fair which is where all the rides will be for the kids.”

I hadn’t even thought far enough ahead to fully realize that oh yeah – the rides would be separated by age.

Tip #1: If you’re going to do a crazy adventure, make sure that one of the moms is a planner, and has actually successfully gotten her family into and through a theme park.

But her planning started before we even left the hotel, when she borrowed a sharpie from Ali (what nine year old travels without sharpies?) and wrote her phone number on her children’s arms in case of getting lost.

(I followed up with writing my phone number on my children…slightly smaller, on the inside of their arms, and without the giant “MOM”. But nobody ever accused Not-Crazy-Renee of not being bold. Remember the Neighborhood Package Thief?)

The phone number thing really was brilliant, and all the other moms at Dollywood kept commenting at our preparedness. However, it’s been five days and my number is still on Noah’s arm. So now it’s beginning to just look like he managed to snag some young lady’s number.

(And if someone saw the way he looks at Loulie, they’d have a pretty good guess of whose phone number he wanted to snag.)

But Dollywood.

The rides were really fantastic. Teacups were a big hit,

As were the bumper cars.

Some took it more seriously than others.

The favorite ride, but also the most complex for our outnumberedness, were the elephants.

Here’s a Theme Park Math Problem For you:

Riders over 48” can ride alone. Riders under 48” must be with a rider that is over 16 years old. The baby in a carrier could not ride. There can only be two riders per elephant. Ali was over 48” and Noah, Jonas, and Loulie were under 48”. Plus, one adult had to stay off to hold Joshua, the baby. How many rounds had to be ridden to let everyone have a turn?

The answer is three, and the bonus answer is that Ali got three turns each time we rode the elephants (Perks for being the oldest.)

1. Adult/Noah, Ali
2. Adult/Jonas, Ali
3. Adult/Loulie, Ali

Thankfully, there were no lines that day, so this was relatively easy to accomplish. But since Elephants were the favorite, we ran this triple circuit multiple times. And sometimes, the kids waiting for their turn actually had a good attitude.

(By the way, Noah was BARELY under 48”. If he’d been over 48”, everything would’ve been easier. Tip #2 from Not-Crazy-Renee The Theme Park Expert: I should’ve glued a one-inch foam wedge to the bottom of his shoes. I want to go back to Dollywood this weekend just to try this BRILLIANT plan.)

At first, due to my Theme Park Status of ignoramus, I was completely confused by all the different height requirements, number-per-ride requirements, and height-measuring poles. But then I began to appreciate it, because there was a ride for every situation.

Jonas got to drive a car:

Loulie and Ali were able to ride a small roller coaster alone:

And everyone was allowed to ride in the Bumblebee and a couple other rides alone, even Jonas and a VERY proud Noah:

I’ve still got the Bumblebee song stuck in my head.

We spent the majority of Friday at Dollywood, until my stamina gave out first.

We’d been awarding everyone’s good attitudes on the trip with Lego Bucks, so we stopped at the gift shops on the way out of the park for an energy pick-me-up, distributing swords and candy to the children, and delicious truffle-things to the mothers (because I am telling you we EARNED ourselves some Lego Bucks.)

Why yes, Noah is auditioning for “So You Think You Can Dance.” Why do you ask?

As we left, I asked Renee how much of the park we’d accomplished in our many hours there. She said about one eighth of the park. One eighth! That made me want to go back without the kids to do the other seven eighths, mostly more intense rides. But it was pretty amazing that there was a whole day’s worth of rides they could ride – it made the concept of theme parking with kids so much more doable.

(I’ve always been a little scared of theme parks. But now I know. If I can do it with two adults and five kids, I can TOTALLY do it with Chris and just my kids.)

The next day, before heading back home, we went to the Waterpark. I was even more skeptical that this would work – The odds were ever NOT in our favor.

But they had three full kid areas, plus a lazy river and wave pool.

Kid area #1 (Little Creek Falls) had two mild slides that the three oldest kids could do alone (even my very risk averse Noah (who won’t even go down the slide at the YMCA pool) went right up and did it – no coaxing required!)

Kid Area #2 (Bear Mountain Fire Tower) was a bit more intense – there was water squirting at every angle, and a giant bucket that doused the entire play area every few minutes. I was shocked my kids were up for this one, but they were – we had to drag them out.

Kid Area #3, The Cascades, was the best kid area in my opinion – it was bigger, yet more laid back and quieter, but still had a couple great slides.

One of the slides was perfect for Ali to take Jonas on, a treat that they both loved.

We chilled for a while at the wave pool,

Which proved to be a perfect Dippin’ Dots / Cotton Candy break for everyone.

Renee and I also each took a turn taking Loulie and Ali on a big raft waterslide – a slide that had way too much adrenaline potential for Noah.

But the real adventure came, ironically, at The Lazy River.

Oh, I wish there were pictures.

We had decided we could do it – Renee could hold Joshua, I could hold Jonas, and the other three could be on their own floats. But the waterfall was loud and the river was somewhat crowded – and I couldn’t figure out how to sit on my float, be able to steer, and hold a two-year-old upright. I followed Expert Renee’s lead and hefted one leg up over the float, balanced Jonas on that leg, and left the other leg hanging down with which to steer, looking very much like Leg Lamp Boat Rudder. I wasn’t sure if my legs would ever go together again.

Meanwhile, Noah decided that a REALLY FUN GAME to play on the Lazy River would be (he didn’t name it this but he might as well have ) “The Drowning Game”, where he kept flipping over backwards in the middle of his float, flailing just below the water level (even though he could totally touch), allowing a couple of seconds to go by, then jumping out of the water laughing hysterically.

And no matter how hard I tried, I could NOT get him to quit playing this game.

We took two laps around because it had taken us the time of three laps to get into the river, so we couldn’t quit at one.

Tip #3: If you are grossly outnumbered by your children, leave the Lazy River to the happy romantic couples who are only dreaming of creating offspring. No need to show them what that dream actually looks like.

Aside from the Lazy River adventures, though, the waterpark was a smashing success. Everyone had a place they could play at a level they were comfortable, we stayed for six hours and the kids would’ve stayed longer, and we left with the same number of children we possessed upon arrival.

We threw everyone into dry clothes, doled out iPads and headphones, and started the journey back to Birmingham, enjoying the lovely view of worn-out, silent, double-screening children.

And we congratulated ourselves. Because we were CLEARLY rock stars.

(With an honorable mention to Ali, who was crazy helpful and much needed all weekend. Tip #4: Don’t travel without a kind and happy-to-help oldest child.)

We were sure to give her many reading breaks and covertly sneaky treats that the other kids never saw. We made being the oldest totally worth her trouble.

A couple days after returning home, Noah called me into his room to show me what he and his Daddy had built the night before at bedtime.

“Look Mom, it’s a time Machine. See? You turn this wheel and you can go back in time.”

“Cool! Where are you going to go back in time to? Or are you going to go to the future?”

“Oh I am definitely going back to Dollywood!”

I’d call that a successful adventure.

Not-Crazy-Renee And The Dollywood Adventure.

August 22, 2016August 22, 2016 Rachel Callahan I'm a Glutton for Adventure, Kids: The Experience., Not Crazy Renee

A couple of weeks ago when we were on our way home from our beach trip, during the window of “Last Hour of the Road Trip Home” which has a very strict rule of “No serious conversations because we WILL get snippy with each other”, I got a text from my dear friend and neighbor, Not-Crazy-Renee.

She continued to explain to me that she would like for me to possibly go on a road trip with her – to Maine. Which would take two 10 hour days to get there, it would include a stay for about three days, and then two 10 hour days to get back.

Just me and her. Oh – and our five kids.

Although her timing on asking me to go on an epic road trip was super poor, I was still intrigued. Because Maine. And scenery. And adventure.

So I inquired further.

Despite how well I know the little-bit-crazy parts of not-crazy Renee, the ludicrous INSANITY of “can you leave 16 hours from now and put in an entire workweek in the car with five children even though you’re not home yet from your last road trip?” just stunned me.

Yet I was STILL slightly interested. Because I’m a glutton for adventure. However, our family had already made plans for the upcoming weekend and there was just no possible way to make it work. But I had been promising Not-Crazy-Renee that I’d road trip with her all summer, so I re-upped that promise and determined in my heart to make it come true – sooner rather than later.

And so I began to look around and plan – where could we take five children and not hate ourselves for it? Where could children the ages of 9, 5, 5, 2, and 9 months all have fun and not make us lose our Mommy Poop? We discussed this at length.

After considering many options and trying to optimize all the components to making our complex situation actually fun, we landed on Dollywood – the DreamMore Resort and the theme parks. And ironically, our plans didn’t fully come together until the day before we were supposed to leave. So at least I also provided that feeling of thrill and panic that she had attempted to give me with her Maine proposal. And on top of that, both our husbands were going out of town, so if nothing else, we were saving ourselves from Daddyless weekends at home.

We left Thursday morning, bracing ourselves for exhaustion, screaming children, and hating life. The odds were NOT ever in our favor. But we started out knowing we were rock stars, because we packed seven people for two nights this amazingly lightly:

We were already winners.

The car trip went shockingly well, thanks to half a dozen screens. Twenty minutes before we arrived, reveling in the fact that no one had cried or even whined, we started to get hopeful. Maybe we could actually handle and maybe even enjoy this adventure we’d gotten ourselves into.

Ten minutes before we arrived, the screaming began. One kid started crying, one kid started screaming because the other kid was crying, two kids began whining and covering their ears, and we began our Lamaze breathing. Childbirth ain’t got nothing on a minivan full of screaming children.

But we arrived, and they were immediately distracted from their whining by the glory that lay before us.

“WHOA! Are we staying in a castle?!?”

“Yes, yes we are.”

They squealed with delight and couldn’t wait to explore their new kingdom.

One of the first things they noticed was the recurring theme of butterflies. It became a game to count how many different places butterflies were featured in the hotel, all the way down to the toilet paper monogram.

Another feature helped the kids remember why the name Dolly Parton sounded familiar to them: the Imagination Library. Her book benches featured some of the best books she sends in that free program – including the first book, The Little Engine that Could.

On that first night, they were fully entertained by just exploring. The hotel, the playground, the fire pits around the pool (we didn’t make s’mores but it was fun to see other people doing it), the barn, and this old truck, which made for some pretty epic photos for Noah and Loulie’s future wedding slideshow.

(Obviously, this part of the slideshow will need to be played to the tune of “I Will Always Love You” in deference to Dolly, who provided these magical moments.)

But magic or no, the injury list didn’t take long to start piling up. Within two hours of arriving, one kid had rolled off a bed, and another kid had stuck their fingers into the opening elevator crack and panicked as they watched their fingers being sucked in.

(If this ever happens to you, yank hard on said kid’s hand. It will rip free with all fingers in tact and a much higher respect for elevator safety.)

Our rooms were beyond ideal for our situation. We couldn’t have done what we did without the fantastic layout. We had two adjoining rooms, each with a bunk room and a separate king bedroom.

So at the end of each night, each family had their own kid room and their own Mommy Room. Granted, Renee had to share her room with the baby, but Joshua was by far the easiest guest of the weekend. How could you not want to share with this face??

And if that weren’t enough, I had a sunset view from my bed. Clearly Dolly designed her hotel with me in mind.

Yes of course I posed them for this picture. They were way too busy playing to care about sunsets.

I even took sunset pictures out the window – and Dolly cleaned her windows well enough that they came out like this.

The resort had Dolly memorabilia in every part, which led to many interesting conversations about her. Such as this philosophical conversation I had with Ali:

“So is Wood not her last name?”

“Who?”

“Dolly.”

“No! It’s Parton.”

“Oh.”

“She just owns the place so she named it Dollywood…kinda like Hollywood.”

“So a woman named Holly owns Hollywood?”

Makes sense to me.

As for Renee and I, we were quickly realizing that outnumberedness, along the number of very small children, meant that every moment of our trip was going to require a quick “okay, what’s our strategy?” conversation.

How will we get our bags in?
How will we get food?
How will we get this poopy diaper changed?
How can I go pee?

(I know that there are many families with five or more kids that probably live their whole life in strategy-mode, and I appreciate those people all the more after this weekend.)

There was a lot of “okay you take those three, I’ll take these two” and “can you watch this one for a second?” and even more of, to the children, “Do NOT tell us what you want to do. We’re here to have fun. We’ll make sure you have fun. Don’t. Ask. For. Anything.”

(That didn’t work. OBVIOUSLY.)

But despite their constant requests to do ALL THE THINGS ALL AT ONCE, thanks to Dolly and the joy of being with each other, the kids had an incredible time.

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Next time, we talk about our adventures at the Theme Parks. Yes, you heard me right. We took five kids to more than one theme park. So don’t call us wusses.

Hands-On Alabama History: Week One.

August 18, 2016August 18, 2016 Rachel Callahan Alabama History, Homeschooling: Not just for the socially awkward anymore.

As we approached 4th grade, I felt my rule-following self and rebellious self fighting each other (which is a pretty much daily battle anyway.)

I know that it’s “expected” to study state history in 4th grade, but I still remember my textbook. It was awful. And with a little research, I found out that Alabama textbooks are still awful. And I did not want to foist that piece of crap on my daughter.

Ali enjoys learning about the history of our state – many of our hiking trails go through old iron mining sites – Red Mountain Park, Ruffner Mountain Nature Preserve, and Tannehill,to name a few. Ali has asked me to google the history of each park because she enjoys understanding them.

I didn’t want to squelch that interest with the worst textbook on the planet.

So I decided, in a rather out-of-character move, that I would plan and create a hands-on Alabama History curriculum for my daughter, and in doing so, perhaps other homeschool families who want to do something a little different.

My goal with this project was to create a chronologically-ordered program that would be heavy on field trips (ideally one a week) and hands-on learning. In addition to the field trips, we would:

– Read biographies or other topical books on the subject of the week,
– Write reports on the field trips and books,
– Take photos and create projects and drawings of our journeys,
– Interview people who either lived through or are experts on different eras in Alabama HIstory.

By the end of the year, Ali will have created her own Alabama History textbook.

As a perk for tackling this all-encompassing program, I bought Ali something she’s been wanting for a while: her first camera. I made sure to get one with wi-fi built in (like mine but for 5% of the price) so that she could transfer pictures directly to her iPad for editing, and since I have a wi-fi printer, she could then print them from her iPad.

I put together a timeline-ordered spreadsheet with the help of Google, incorporating all of the field trips I’d also thought of. I’ve been tweaking it ever since, and will continue adding to it and changing it as the year goes on. I am positive that it will be a work in progress until we hold up the “Last Day of School” signs.

What? Can’t read my timeline? If you’d like a copy of the spreadsheet in its current form, click here. I’ll add newer versions to that folder as I go along, or as requested.

But, in case you want the short version, here’s our current list of potential field trips in chronological order…

Anniston Museum of Natural History
McWane – Paleontology Department
Fossil Hunt (Shark Tooth Creek?)
Moundville Archaological Site
Mobile – First settlements, forts
Horseshoe Bend – Indian Battles
Cahawba – Alabama’s first capitol / ghost town
American Village
Heart of Dixie Railroad Museum
Tannehill, Museum
University of Alabama
Antebellum Homes – Eufaula, Arlington…
Briarfield Ironworks
Civil War Battlefields?
Spanish Fort / Fort Morgan
Red Mountain Park
Ruffner Mountain – Crusher, Nature Center
Helen Keller House
Sloss Furnaces
Vulcan
Southern Museum of Flight
The Lyric Theatre
The Alabama Theatre
Jesse Owens Memorial Park and Museum – Oakville
Huntsville Space and Rocket Center
Monroeville
Civil Rights Museum / Civil Rights Walk downtown
Selma
MLK Jr Jail Cell?
Montgomery – Legislature, etc
Muscle Shoals
Dauphin Island
ABC 33/40 (Newsroom, talk about 2011 Tornadoes)

(If you’d like to get notifications from me about our upcoming field trips so that you can join us, let me know.)

Since we’re going in chronological order, the first few weeks are all about dinosaurs. Alabama is actually the best place east of the Mississippi to find Dinosaur fossils, and we’ve been fossil hunting ourselves (finding plants rather than dino bones but still), so it’s a very relevant subject in Alabama History. Ali began reading a book on dinos, and then we set out for our first field trip last Friday – to the Anniston Museum of Natural History.

It’s a fantastic museum full of fossils, dino bones, dino models, stuffed animals from all regions, and couple of 2,300 year old Mummies (one of whose toes were beginning to stick out of her wrappings.) I hadn’t been there since I was a kid, but many things were the same. Right down to the tiny metal skunk hole (who doesn’t need to experience the smell of a skunk??), something I specifically remember smelling when I was their age, but my kids refused to stick their nose in the scary little door.

At least I can rest easy, knowing that I’m braver when it comes to skunk holes.

Ali did, however, put her arms into the “Blind Feelers”, where you feel the texture of wildlife without seeing it. She later wrote about it in her follow-up paper, the phrase that was the highlight of the whole essay:

Gah. Those Blind Fellers were so awkward.

She also put a few photo pages in her Alabama History book for illustration.

(Tip: Post-It Picture Paper is AWESOME for school projects – just peel and place. But it appears they’ve maybe quit making it? I just stocked up.)

Her selfie-in-the-mirror photo was my favorite from the whole trip. I mean, what photographer hasn’t had this as their profile picture?

Noah, who had moaned and complained the day before about having to go on a field trip, squealed with glee, skipped through the museum, and ran to me with a hug and a kiss and a “THANKS FOR BRINGING US TO THE BEST MUSEUM EVER, MOM!!” — several times!

He was mesmerized by it all.

My Mom was with us, and Noah told her it was even more fun than going to her house. Oops.

The gardens outside the museum are gorgeous, too, so we hung out there for a while and honed our photography skills.

(My photos above, not hers.)

(But she did manage to grab a picture of her brother touching a cactus. Which is an important skill for a photographer. Always be prepared when things might get interesting.)

Before we left, I knew one thing we had to do. I have a photo of myself and a friend, at age 7, on one of the benches along a path at the museum. I had to recreate that photo with my lookalike daughter, even though she’s two years older than I was in the picture.

Yup. Two years don’t matter much when it comes to mine and Ali’s twindom. But she has way cooler shoes.

I’d love to know your interest or non-interest in following our Alabama History journey. I want to document it somewhere, but a weekly or bi-weekly post here seems like I might annoy a bunch of people with the history of a state they don’t live in. But on the other hand, my blogging mantra has always been to blog what my life is about right now – and for the next year, a big part of it will be Alabama History. But if I do, I promise to still blog about many, MANY things that don’t have to do with school. Any feedback is welcome!