Epilogue

The wrap up to the trip….well, it was sort of a blur.

Poconos – apparently we picked the one part of the Poconos where there is NOTHING to do outside of the hotel.  So here are a couple photos of the hotel.  It was old and musty, but kind of like the hotel in Dirty Dancing.  I purposefully sat in the corner of the restaurant, hoping that some Swayze clone would sweep me off my feet into a fun dance number, but no luck.

The chicken whisperer

Escape to Fog Mountain

Dems purty hills.

We got high!

Blue Ridge Parkway – our luck continued, as we drove a couple hours on the Parkway only to see fog and clouds.  …and some chickens.

The chicken whispererEscape to Fog Mountain

Dems purty hills.

Grandfather Mountain, NC.  This was the “instead of ziplining” stop.  Actually quite beautiful, and they gave us a cool cd to listen to as we drove up the mountain.  Not Jennifer Lopez-cool, but still good.  Interesting fact about Grandfather Mountain:  they filmed part of Forrest Gump here.  Mama always said, Life is like a mile-high bridge overlooking Charlotte….

We got high!

After that, we ended up in Gatlinburg, TN, which is always a great time.  I have no photos to share, because you know, what happens in Gatlinburg….

This was a great trip, and I am so thankful that I was able to spend this time with Mom.  I am very fortunate to have a Mom who is also my best friend, and I look forward to more trips with her in the future.  I love you Mom!

I left my heaaaaaaaart, in old New Hampshiiiiiiiire….

I think this might be my favorite place in the world.  Well, in the world I’ve seen so far.

We were working out of my cousin Neal’s condo at Weirs Beach, right next to Lake Winnipesaukee.  Almost everything was closed because it was after Labor Day, but it was still a beautiful place and we were very lucky to stay there.  We had a great cookout (in Florida, it’s called a BBQ.  in NH, it’s a cookout) with some family.

This is the view from Neal's condo. Not bad.

Uncle Bob, cousin Jim, and Auntie Terri.

Mom with Auntie Terri

Bocce ball: the cousins getting their butts handed to them by Uncle Bob.

Mom and I went to Franconia Notch State Park, where we hiked to the Flume Gorge.  I know, I know, hard to believe that I hiked.  Mostly, I bitched.  But there was also hiking.  I also managed to injure myself slightly – there was a small cave called “The Wolf’s Den” where the sign said you could crawl through and come out the other side.  It must have been the high altitude and the hiking endorphins, but I ran into that cave and before I knew it I was crawling IN THE DARK, in a small rocky corridor, and realizing that I am an idiot.  I did manage to see the “light at the end of the tunnel”, but there was a very small space to crawl through to get there… a small space that a “well-endowed” girl such as myself has no business trying to fit through.  As I was turning around (and as I heard Mom coming behind me, “Melanie are you in there?  You’re in the dark!  Don’t be an idiot!” I tripped and jammed my finger into a rock.  Initiate increased level of bitching.

Some photos from Franconia Notch:

this is a good one to show you how steep the climb was.

 

This is the entrance to the Wolf's Den. Pre-catastrophe.

Tree hugger.

We also visited Mount Washington Hotel, and had a lovely dinner overlooking the grounds.

Mount Washington Hotel

My dinner date.

Our view for dinner.

 

 

 

 

for Kate

This gallery contains 10 photos.

…who would faint if she saw John & Phil’s Boston apartment in person!              

GLOOOOOOORIA! G-L-O-R-I-A! GLOOOOOOORIA!

This is my grandmother, Gloria.  She looks so pleasant, so sweet here, no?

But NO!  She’s a taskmaster!  Slave driver!

Here is the PC I worked on while visiting my grandmother:

And here is the TV cabinet Mom assembled for her:

Of course, I’m kidding.  My grandmother is pretty amazing.  She’s turning 87 next month.  And she still manages to use the PC for emailing, Facebooking and scanning family photographs, and online banking. Pretty saavy.  I hope when I’m 87 I’m doing as well.

Here is the view from her apartment.  You can see the Union River through the trees.

This is the garden outside her window – I believe she started this garden, and now some of the other residents chip in to keep it pretty!

And, finally, this is her slightly-overweight but no less than completely adorable pomeranian, Sparky.  I think Sparky would be a good match for my friend Sara’s dog Barney; she is very talkative, and makes you wonder what she’s trying to say all the time!  Someone needs to invent a dog-to-English translator.

Maine-ly Maine. Mainly.

We were really lucky at Camp, we got one really great day where we were able to swim in the lake and it was gorgeous.  Not very New-England autumn-y weather though.  The Universe heard us, and the next few days in NH/Maine were rainy and cold.

We went to Acadia National Park, which of course is beautiful.  It’s impossible to convey the size and awesome (in the truest sense of that word) views here.  So maybe my photos can give you an idea.

 

….birch trees! I love birch trees.

This is called “Sand Beach”.  There were actually guys surfing down there.  Crazy guys.

Thunder Hole.  My mom was very concerned about me sitting on that rock, for fear of being swept away.  There were folks who were at least 500 feet down those rocks, getting wet from the spray.  She should have worried about THEM.

Spider web with dewy spots.  Token art shot.

More rocky coast.

Camp

We got into a discussion last night about what makes camp, camp.  Because it IS different – it’s not a summer place, it’s not just a lake house, it’s not “summer camp”.

So, here’s some stuff that makes it “Camp”:

At camp, the screen on the door is attached with tacks.

At camp,   the living decor hasn’t changed since the camp was built; baseball caps on hooks are considered high fashion.  the furniture is for sitting or slouching.  There are coasters, but they’re only to throw the newbies off.

At camp, the exposed insulation in the bedroom isn’t cause for concern; it’s part of the charm.

Camp is all about functionality; you have to make use of all available space – my twin bed has inflatable rafts tucked between it and the wall.  Also note that at camp, you could end up sleeping on Dukes of Hazard bedsheets and using a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle bath towel.

At camp, there is a tv, but it’s rarely used.  The real entertainment is either around the campfire or listening to oldies and stories from friends who have spent their summers here.  They can recall the history of almost every camp around the lake, including the names of every cute boy that lived in them.  (For the record, Mom dated a LOT of boys around the lake.)

At camp, there is no fancy stemware.  Wine is drunk from a juice glass or, in my case, an oversized mug.

At camp, there is a certain smell, not unpleasant, of wood, fire, dampness, a musty smell that reminds you that was, is, and will be a place of relaxation and lake-side fun.

At camp, there is no wifi.  It took me almost 2 hours to complete this post.

 

 

I’ve got the egg in my pocket…*

DAY ONE:

FLORIDA:
Left Micanopy at 0700. we were out of Florida within a couple hours. AAA routed us over 301, so we got to see every speed trap in north central FL.

GEORGIA:
mile 1 – “Oh! We should buy some peaches!” “mmmm, peaches!”
Engage nap.

SOUTH CAROLINA:
mile 50 – “Hey, weren’t we supposed to buy peaches?”

NORTH CAROLINA:
“woo hoo, North Carolina! Mom, text that to Sharissa. We’re making great time!”

APPARENTLY STILL SOUTH CAROLINA, 2 HRS LATER:
“WTF! I thought we were in North Carolina! This state never ends!”

NORTH CAROLINA, FINALLY
“Stop at the Visitor Center, we’re taking pictures, this feels like the promised land.”



VIRGINIA:
“Did you see that pink unicorn?”
“No, but I think it’s time to stop for the night.”

END DAY ONE: HARRISONBURG, VA
DRIVING TIME: 12 HOURS
POTTY BREAKS: 4

DAY TWO:

VIRGINIA:
I must plead the fifth; I napped through the rest of VA.

WEST VIRGINIA:
It would take longer for me to type something about this state than it did for us to drive through it.

PENNSYLVANIA:
Facts about Pennsylvania:
1. their roads are horrible
2. it’s actually larger than California; I’m convinced; the maps lie.
3. the autocorrect for “Pennsylvania” is “Pen Ayla anus.”

NEW YORK:

New York was the completion of the Famous River Crossing Tour of 2011: the Potomac, the Delaware, and the Hudson. We only had to pay to cross the Hudson. We ❤ New York.

CONNECTICUT:

We splurged here on the ultra special CT gas which cost us $4.09 per gallon. I don’t know what they put in that gas, but it must be good.

MASSACHUSETTS:

The only Welcome Center in MA consisted of two Port-O-Lets and a trash heap. The state of my birth. Sorry, that should be “State”. I was not making a social commentary about the conditions of my birth, and comparing it to a trash heap. Sorry Mom.

NEW HAMPSHIRE:
Completely looped out of our minds, we cannot drive fast enough. So much so that Mom had to say “uh, you do realize that’s the lake in front of you, you need to turn.”

END DAY TWO: EAST WAKEFIELD, NH
DRIVING TIME: 12 HOURS
POTTY BREAKS: 4
WINE CONSUMED: 3 GLASSES EACH, NEXT TO THE CAMPFIRE

WE’RE ON VACATION!!!!!!!

*This was actually uttered by my mother as we were packing the car. She put a hard boiled egg in her pocket for breakfast on the road. She says things like this all the time. I should fix her up with the “S**t My Dad Says” guy.

LiveBlogging the MTV VMAs

I was going to try to liveblog the VMAs, but I only made it 18 minutes in and I was ready to change the channel (right about the time they brought out Nikki Minaj and her froot loops hair.

 

….I’m glad she wore that mask, else she might contaminate others.

 

Sigh, I am old.

Hail to the Queen, baby!

Today we went to the Ringling Museum in Sarasota.  One of the last things we saw, but one of my favorites, was the Dwarf Garden.  This is my best, if somewhat obscene, impression of a dwarf statue.