Before the World Turned Upside Down

A week ago today, life was relatively normal.

Why does it seem like a different lifetime?

I held a few reservations about our decision to travel for Spring Break, but it was more irrational fear at that point, and so the five of us flew to Rochester, NY,  and crossed the border into Canada. After checking into our hotel, we ate dinner at TGIFridays, watched two hockey games on different screens, then went swimming in the hotel's pool. 

Alone in a Canadian arcade, playing hockey--what else?

(Putting this all in perspective: Those were the last two NHL games played. The restaurants and bars are closed or closing. We made jokes about coronavirus as we soaked in the petri dish hot tub without fear. Yesterday the Canadian border closed.)

Wednesday morning we took a mostly deserted tram from the hotel to mostly deserted Niagara Falls, where five AZ desert rats shivered in the mist and marveled at the sheer water volume crashing over the rocks. 

We wandered the practically empty shops, taste tested (and bought) several maple syrups--when in Canada--and headed back to the New York side.

(Perspective check: Our experience was mostly deserted because it is the freezing off-season. Now, the tram is closed, and if the shops aren't closed yet, I'm sure they will be soon.)

Brad drove us to Fort Niagara, where the cold once again limited tourists. 

We only saw one other group the entire time we were in the fort, and the boys took advantage of this time to wrestle and shove and banter. 

I took advantage of this time alone by not forcing them to be staid. It was a win-win for all of us.

(Perspective check: As far as I know, national parks remain open, but who knows how much longer that will last.)

My kids loved rolling down all the big hills they found. Just outside Fort Niagara was a huge hill, and they hiked to the top and repeatedly rolled down, getting coated in mud and grass stains and loving every pass down the hill.

Brad, Eve, and I were freezing, but the die-hard boys stayed on the hill much longer. We pulled the car around to pick them up, and when I rolled the window down to call them, Micah shouted, "Wanna see some real speed? I'll show you some real speed!" As he bolted to the car, Brad squealed the tires and sped away. I haven't seen Brad laugh that hard in forever. By the time we circled back through the roundabout, the boys were standing in the middle of the deserted street with their hands up to stop the car.

What a funny memory.

After a quick stop for a Chipotle burrito, and Girl Scout cookies and groceries at Walmart, we drove south to Palmyra, ready to spend a few days seeing Church history sites. But no bed until we watched "Man from Snowy River." I don't know how I've neglected to share this classic with my kids . . . My dad must be shaking his head in disbelief at this revelation.

It was an exhausting day.

(Perspective check: In hindsight, I wonder how much of the emptiness was seasonal and how much was situational. Wednesday was the day everything suddenly became harsher, scarier, and increasingly more restricted. That's the day March Madness was cancelled. Gobert tested positive. Harvard emailed and said campus was closing. And Thursday was even crazier.)

A Little Sightseeing

I spent all of last week in Richmond, VA, researching my master's thesis. While I did spend eight hours a day deep in the Library of Virginia's belly, I was able to carve out a few hours Sunday afternoon and an hour Saturday afternoon before my flight adventure I talked about yesterday.

I spent over an hour wandering through the Hollywood Cemetery. My mom instilled in me a love of cemeteries, and as I wander around, I wonder what stories the stones hide. Each was someone loved. Each was part of a family. Each has a story.

Guess that's why I'm a historian . . .

Jefferson Davis, only president of the Confederate States, is buried here. Look how beautiful this location is--overlooking the James River.

It was so beautiful that day. Look at that sky.

An entire section of the cemetery is dedicated to Civil War soldiers--18,000 of them in this cemetery alone. Much of the Civil War's fighting took place in Virginia, and the state experienced battle of some kind virtually every day for four years. It sobers me every time I think about it (and that's been much of the time lately, since my thesis centers around poetry published in Richmond's papers during the war).

If you ignore the slavery issue (and I know that's a pretty big elephant in the room), the Civil War was much more complicated and less clear cut than most Americans realize. And whether your family was blue or gray, your men still bled red and died far from home. Almost 700,000 of them, depending on which statistic you use. Think of the impact on society. On families. On politics. On the workforce. And for a few generations after as well. It boggles me.

I didn't understand the dates on this flag at first, but then I realized these flags posted on Confederate graves record the two dates Virginia "seceded"--the first from England, and the second from the US. I hadn't ever put the two dates as mirror images of each other. Southern mindset is so different from what I have always known, and I'm loving the opportunity my research affords me to learn more about it.

On Saturday, I wandered the Tredegar ironworks factory turned Civil War museum.

It has incredible artifacts that I've dreamed of seeing for much of my life, like this Sherman screw. From a distance, I thought it was a piece of machinery, but up close I realized it is a railroad rail. Sherman's troops would heat them until they were pliable, then wrap them around trees or posts so the South couldn't rebuild their railroads when the Union army left the area.

The museum must have the biggest (if not the biggest, then the most important pieces) collection of Robert E. Lee memorabilia anywhere. He probably rode Traveler to Appomattox Courthouse sitting on this saddle.

It's always surreal for me to walk where these figures of history walked. To sit where they sat. To ponder what momentous days and acts transpired on the spot where I now stand.

While I don't anticipate returning to Richmond (and there were many more sights to see, unfortunately), I left overwhelmed by the history of it all.

There is so much to see in this world. I'll never see everything I want to see . . . 

Boston, Part 4

All of them had been looking forward to the Museum of Science, and I saved it for the last day. We were really slow getting out the door on Wednesday (and it was raining and cold), which meant we didn’t have time to see the USS Constitution or the Boston Tea Party Museum. I don’t think they even cared, and by this point, all I wanted was for them to have good experiences. I realized I’d expected too much from them and I was fine to spend the day at the museum.

We rushed into the IMAX theater for “Great Barrier Reef,” and that theater was unlike any IMAX I’d ever seen. It was HUGE with 180-degree views. It was too big, in my opinion, and I couldn’t ever see everything that was going on. The movie was good and got the kids excited to see more, but we first needed some lunch.

Sidenote: Ever since Micah broke his collar bone, his appetite has disappeared. Walking 14,000+ steps a day brought it back in spades. I can’t believe how much he ate on this trip. And let it be known, he likes ice cream just as much as his dad.

After lunch, we wandered through the exhibition halls, but the boys quickly realized that this museum is geared to 3-6 graders. Eve loved it. They barely tolerated it. By the time we realized it wasn’t what everyone wanted to do, it was too late to go see anything else, including travel time. Eve was a little disappointed, but I dropped them off at the apartment around 4 with some movies, promising to be back around 6 to make dinner. I rented another blue bike and squeezed in 90 bonus minutes of research on a volume that can’t leave Widener Library. I’m finding some great information, and I’m hopeful I will have everything together by the November 1 deadline to apply for the next class.

Fancy macaroni and cheese dinner (yeah, not fancy), more conference, then Survivor, and everyone was hammered and ready to sleep.

 Cambridge Common--I never tire of this park. I mean, WASHINGTON STOOD HERE, PEOPLE!

I wanted one last run through the fall weather, but the forecast predicted lots of rain Thursday morning. I didn’t care, and I set the alarm early (6:45—not early!) and headed out. It was cool and sprinkling but it was gorgeous. The colors. The temperature. The surroundings. I’ve fallen in love with Cambridge, and I’m so happy I got to spend almost an entire week enjoying it in the best season of the year. Before 7 am, I got a notification that our flight was already delayed an hour (not a good sign), and we had to be out by 10 am. What to do? The kids were split about going straight to the airport or finding something to do, but in the end we ran for the bus to get on the train for the airport. And Mom miscalculated again—missing the bus by less than a minute. By this time, Eve was a grumpy mess from pulling her suitcase along the bumpy sidewalk and ti was raining, so I called an Uber to take us to the train station. While we rode our (supposedly) last train ride, Eve realized, through a flood of tears, that she’d left her souvenir knitting set on the nightstand of the bedroom. (She found it buried in her backpack two days later, but these were some real, serious tears.)

Something needed to be done, fast. So I called an audible, and we got off the train at Boston Common for one final (our third) round of Dunkin’. There were only a dozen to choose from! Instead, the kids chose McDonald’s breakfast right next door, and everyone was happy once more. We walked across the street to the Common, down to the train station, used our train passes for (supposedly) the last time, and waited two minutes for the train. Just as we were ready to board, Micah panicked. “I left my backpack in McDonald’s!” Off he ran, and in less than three minutes he was back. That really was the last time we used our train passes. Two transfers later (and a flight update that moved our flight up half an hour!), we were at the airport and heading home.

What a great trip. I hope my kids have forever memories of the time we spent together in Boston. Nothing profound or extremely exciting or noteworthy, but it was a fun way to spend Fall Break. The little AirBnB where they slept and watched movies and played Nintendo Switch (thanks for sneaking that on the trip, Rum!). The changing leaves and “hardcore Parkour” in the park. Their first subway rides. Harvard—which may not mean much to them but was thrilling for me to share. History and science and aquatic life and rain and sunshine and fish and ice cream. I love these kids. I loved spending a week with them. I’m so glad they’re mine.

Goodbye, Boston. I’ll see you on Sunday, but this time I’ll be flying solo.

Boston, Part 3

We experienced real Fall this year. In the week we were in Boston, the colors visibly changed, and it was exciting for these desert rats! (and their mom)

Bunny who watched me loop the park a few times that morning

Tuesday morning I got up in the dark, laced on my running shoes, and spent a joyous 30 minutes looping the park, listening to my music, and LOVING fall. I snuck back into the apartment, grabbed my wallet, and walked a mile to Enterprise where I picked up our car for the one day we planned to leave the city. Even though there was traffic for some of the drive, we had a great discussion about the armor of God and Ephesians 6 before we turned DJ duties over to Micah. He provided us with some mellow fall music and some awesome car karaoke tunes. When we got out, Hyrum said, “I bet that will be my favorite part of the whole day.” I think he thought that even when the day was over!

I was so excited to show the kids Plimoth Plantation. I loved it last time I went, and I thought they would as well. They humored me.

We are direct descendants of the Billington family--first man tried for murder in the colony. I'm so proud.

They were nice about it and liked it, but they didn’t LOVE it.

And Micah got fed up with Eve’s obsession with gift shops. The weather was beautiful—no rain—and the fall colors were incredible.

They weren’t exaggerating when they claim New England has the most spectacular fall. We watched the leaves visibly change colors while we were there. We missed the peak changing, but it was glorious for us AZ desert dwellers.

Plymouth Rock is only a few miles from the plantation, so we had to see it. When we got out of the car, Hyrum ran up to it, looked down, and said, “That’s . . . underwhelming.” I don’t know what he expected, but he’s right. Oh well. History can only be so captivating, even for History Nerds like me.

Spending a week together gets annoying sometimes. Can you see Micah? He was up there for personal sanity reasons, I think.

It was an hour drive to Minute Man National Park in Lexington, but it was beautiful and really fun.

I think the kids loved being together in the car without being surrounded by hundreds of strangers on trains and busses and in public places. I forget that they’ve never experienced a city like that before.

The park was gorgeous, and after the 20-minute video, Hyrum begged to walk around and explore. I think he was convinced he’d find a Revolutionary War artifact, but he quickly gave up his search in favor of skipping rocks in the pond and breaking sticks over rocks.

There’s one thing AZ kids can never get enough of—and that’s really good sticks. They’re in short supply in the desert.

 Stopped at a farmer's market for New England apples and New England apple pie--Eve missed Cleo!

 And a quick selfie at the Boston temple

I wanted to squeeze in some more history, but they were DONE, even after I plied them with ice cream. So we headed back to the apartment after buying stuff for our last two dinners, watched a little of Saturday’s morning session of conference, and headed to bed.

As I walked back from turning in the rental car, Cambridge gifted me with an Arizona-worthy sunset.

It was a fantastic day with the people I love the most.