Emlenton Summer Festival

Part I: Emlenton's Got Talent

Part of the Emlenton Summer Festival this year was a non-competitive talent show called Emlenton's Got Talent. This show took place on the stage in the Crawford Center, which used to be the local school where our family's previous generation of Pennsylvanians went to elementary and high school.

Of course, Suzuki violin students always welcome the opportunity to perform, so Benny and Sadie played their polished pieces.

Sadie playing Andantino:



Benny playing the Veracini Gigue:



The kids made lots of friends and had a great time -- the whole show was very charming, the organizers were very supportive and loving with the kids, and it ended up being a very cute evening.







Part II: Emlenton Festival Duathlon

Dan came up from Virginia for the weekend, and competed in the Emlenton Duathlon. The running half of his team was a high school student from Ohio. They won! Here's Dan's race report, at his cycling team's web site.

Our neighbors also competed. They own and run a maple syrup company, homeschool their four children, and they do biking and jogging in their spare time! That's Alethea on the left with her husband Joseph, and then one of her sisters and one of her brothers, who made up another racing team. Dan's in the middle, completing Team Geiring Road:



Alethea and Joseph won their respective categories -- they both did the running and the biking.



The winning duo, with their trophies:



More of my pictures are here.

Part III: Kids' Bike Races

These bike races were fast, dangerous, and pretty much a disaster for the Netzer contingency. However, I did get some cute pictures:





A wild time in Emlenton.

Living Treasures Animal Park: The Weirest Petting Zoo Ever

In the old days, anyone with a mangy bear, a mostly tame raccoon, a donkey, and an exotic chicken could set up a zoo and charge a penny to see the animals. If the bear could dance, so much the better. Anybody with a camel could give camel rides, and anybody with a hyena could put it on display. The line between circus and zoo was thin and frail.



Then we started getting advanced and complicated notions about animal comfort and safety. Zoos expanded their exhibit spaces, started calling them "habitats," and invested in elaborate water features and native flora. Degreed scientists were put in charge of food and medicine, and words like "respect" and "natural" and "healthy" were bandied about.

The bad thing about the old-fashioned zoos was that you can't help thinking the animals were miserable. The bad thing about the new zoos is that you can't see the animals half the time. They're so safe and comfortable in their nice healthy habitats that you end up saying, "Look, Suzy! There's a tuft of the sloth's left elbow! See? See it? Way back there behind the fourth tree from the left!"

Last week we went to the Living Treasures Animal Park in Moraine, PA. Well, there were certainly a lot of things there that were living.

In the space of a few acres, the owners managed to display monkeys, bears (two kinds!), lions, tigers, kangaroos, timber wolves, lemurs, hyenas, camels, alligators, a musk ox, ostriches, as well as goats, ponies, llamas, and the occasional chicken. There was a camel ride. There was a horse-drawn carriage safari through a few more acres of free range pasture where Indian deer, ostriches, oxen, and other denizens flocked to the carriage as the driver enthusiastically hurled out scoops of pellets.



Pellets. When you come in to Living Treasures, you purchase a bucket of pellets for $3, and almost everything in the park eats this generic food item. Except for the bears and timber wolves, which eat dog food. And the monkeys and lemurs, which eat cheerios. Wait a minute! You can feed BEARS? Live, actual, adult bears? Yes. Standing behind the low wooden fence, you can poke pieces of dog food into a PVC pipe that slants down into the bear's area, behind a slightly sturdier fence. The bears lie there, waiting for the dog food to roll down, and then the slurp it up.



This is how all the animals are. They wait for the food to come, and then they eat it, and then they wait for more food. Until they are so completely sated and gorged that they lie down, bursting at the seams, and try to digest some of it. This kangaroo was so stuffed she is pushing out the joey inside her pouch. She can't even fit in one more carrot:



Besides the lions, bears, tigers, leopards, and a whole slew of other animals that would have really worried me if they hadn't been so fat and happy, there was the petting zoo. Including camels, llamas, goats, rabbits, and a ZEBRA:



A nice cute, fat, happy little baby zebra that was as tame as your mother. Plus camels you could hug:



And ride:



So, while I was shaken to the core by the close proximity with bears, and while I expect that my PETA neighbors would have a lot to say about the lack of habitat for each animal, the children loved it. It was an interesting place for another redheaded homeschooling convention.

Stone Skipping Tournament in Franklin, PA 2009

Is there, no kidding, a professional stone skipping tour? Yes.

You mean that grown-up people throw rocks at a river and count how many times the rock jumps and compete against each other to see who can skip the most times? Yes.

Does this alleged "pro tour" include several former Guinness World Record holders, including the current one? Yes.

Can kids play too? Yes.

Last Saturday, Benny dragged us to the International Stone Skipping Pro Tour (stops include Mackinac Island, MI and Franklin, PA and... well, that's it) down at the river side in nearby Franklin. Benny is a big fan of the Guinness Book of World Records. Franklin is hometown to Russ Byars, current world record holder (51 skips!) and a man who carries his own signable cardstock pictures, and isn't afraid to get his feet wet helping a kid with his technique. Benny brought a rock from our creek for him to sign, which he did. He told Benny that skipping stones is all about spin and speed. Sounds logical. Easier said than done, though! Benny's top score was 3.

ESPN was there. Those white little legs under the green shirt are Benny's, partially blocked by the guy with the boom mike. Maybe he was leaning in to catch the THWACK of the rock as it hit the water? Or would that be the gerplunk:



A crowd gathers to see a man dressed as Edwin Drake (who discovered oil in this region, 150 years ago) throw out the ceremonial first stone:

Here's Benny studying his rock carefully:



Here's running from the camera crew:

I didn't take enough pictures of the crowd, or the festival that surrounded it, nor did I take video of the goofy announcer entertaining us, or the pro competitors taunting each other, the enthusiastic cheers when someone made it over 30 skips, or the polite golf claps when someone "gerplunked."

One of the competitors was an anchorperson from CBS Sunday Morning. Between that camera crew and the ESPN people, it felt almost surreal. Franklin, PA is not accustomed to such scrutiny, of late.

This one had a good time:



This one is still practicing:



For more of my pictures, click here: the unlikely but entertaining Franklin PA Stone Skipping Tournament.

Here's a page of official pictures, to give you a better idea of the scene, the crowd, the pros, and the river madness in general: Pa Stone Skipping Tournament

Disney World is Still in Florida

We went to Disney World for a week with Dan's family. Here are some pictures, taken by my brother-in-law with his enviable camera, to tell the tale:

Sadie and Sydney's bed:



Benny and Jack's bed:



Riding Kraken at Sea World. Front Row: Terri, Benny, Ashley, Andy. Second Row: Dan, Lydia. Yes, I rode Kraken.



Sadie in the play area:



How did Benny get so wet?:



Hollywood Studios. Benny battles Darth Vader:



Sydney and Sadie:



Belle and the children:



Aladdin's Carpets:



Sadie and Mom, going to Magic Kingdom on the ferry:



Expedition Everest. Front row: Benny, Ashley. Middle row: Dan, Andy. Back row: Terri, Lydia.



Did I take pictures? I *think* I did. They were just so violently inferior to Kevin's that I despair. But here's a link to my Flickr set for the Disney trip. There are many amusing photos there.

How to Avoid the Lines at Busch Gardens

To avoid waiting in a line, choose a day for your visit that meets these criteria:

1. A school day. First Friday after Labor Day for example.
2. A rainy day. A light sprinkle won't kill ya. You're getting wet on all those splashy rides anyway.

And don't forget the most important one:

3. A day in which a hurricane is bearing down on the park like an angry Assyrian and all his gleaming cohorts.

Sure, everyone else is headed to the grocery store to stock up on bottled water and food you don't have to keep cold. They're checking their generators and weather.com, speculating on whether tropical storm means losing power for eight minutes or eight hours. But you don't *care* about these things. You only care about getting straight onto any ride you decide to try, and riding as long as you want without getting off, because there is *no one in the park but you.* You may now cackle loudly, twirl your mustaches, and if you really want to, ball your fists and raise them to the sky in triumph. I mean, you probably have batteries somewhere, right? You have children after all. You can raid their toys.

There are three big roller coasters at Busch Gardens that Benny can ride: Big Bad Wolf, Apollo Chariot, and Loch Ness Monster. He rode none of them less than 4 times. Apollo Chariot he rode four times in a row without getting off. On Escape from Pompeii, we sat there debating whether we wanted to ride a fourth time or whether we were done. What a divine, excellent, blissful experience. Benny and Dad in the front row on the Big Bad Wolf:





Benny's analysis of the roller coasters:

Benny: "I like these non-fiction rides."
Me: "Non-fiction?"
Benny: "Yes, you know, the Walt Disney World rides are fiction and these are non-fiction."

Very astute, I think. I prefer the fictional ones, but that's predictable.

Sadie and I entertained ourselves while Benny and Dad were riding the big dangerous rides:







Here's Benny on the chair swing:



Here's Sadie on the chair swing junior:



Yes, the junior version was much less thrilling, but then again, someone had spectacularly hurled in a giant, radiating arc on the big one just before we were ready to get on it, so I decided... you know... to skip it.

Here's the ride that I puked on when I was a little kid at Boblo Island:



That's an actual picture of the actual ride -- the park is closed now but you can find anything on the internet, right? I puked in one of those red-flowered bushes, back in the 70s. Here's the Busch Gardens version of the pirate/viking ship, called the Battering Ram:



Dan and Benny were riding a 42" and up ride in the DaVinci area, and Sadie asked earnestly to ride the battering ram again, so I went on it with her. Fortunately she elected to sit in the middle and there were no eruptions. It was a little awful. Sadie told Dan, when they were riding it together, sitting at the rear seat, that the ride made her feel homesick. She also refers to it now, looking back, as having given her a homesick feeling -- I guess that's how she identifies the sinking stomach feeling you get. She loved that ride -- it was her favorite.

Here are the kids on some of the other DaVinci themed rides:





We had a solid four hours of happy sunny weather. The wind picked up while we were having lunch, and then the rain started misting down after 2:00. It got progressively stronger, and we retreated to the train and the Skyride... here we are in one of these little chairlifty buckets that go sailing around the park way up high on ropes. That lump in Sadie's hand is cotton candy made of garbanzo beans and agave nectar, with no artificial colors and flavors *WINK*:



The Skyride is a VERY cool way to see and understand the roller coasters from a different perspective. It even goes through the loops and very close to the speeding cars at one point.

By five it was too rainy to be cheery. Here's Ireland, empty, in the rain:



We went home happy, tired, having roller coastered the children into a state of complete exhaustion:





As for the "tropical storm," it was practically nothing. Hanna Shmanna Bobanna. A bit of wind, a bit of rain, the lights flickered once, and it was over. We didn't miss much by not frantically preparing on Friday. I'm glad we decided to live on the wild side and ride roller coasters all day.

One down side: While Dan was upside down over the lake, Dan's wallet plummeted to its death. While going past Loch Ness Monster in the Skyride bucket, we peered over and searched all the scaffolding -- we couldn't see it, so I'm pretty sure it's in the Loch. Of course, being Dan, he's already replaced all his cards and identifications. Without that one glitch it would have been a perfect day. A wet, heart-racing, laughing, rushing, upside down day.

Quest for the Falls

The little bubbly creek at the bottom of our valley winds on down through the woods, joining up with other creeks, getting wider, deeper, and eventually meets the Allegheny River, seven miles from here. When I was a kid, my Nana and I used to walk down about halfway, to a beautiful waterfall. This waterfall is accessible via the creek and also via logging trail. My friend Lori and I went there, with Nana, multiple times every summer. With a deep, curving channel leading up to the falls, a drippy cave behind the waterfall itself, and a huge flat collection basin like a giant wading pool, it's a natural waterpark. We would hike down the creek, hopping rocks and dipping into any swimmable spots, and then walk back out the logging trail which you could reach by cutting up the side of the hill.

A few years ago, Lori and I and all of our little redheaded children (Sadie in utero) hiked down that logging trail to where we thought the falls must be. We looked up and down and all around, ranging over what we thought was a vast stretch of creek and valley, and could not find the falls anywhere. A lot had changed in the 20 years or so since we had been down there. We gave up. That year Sadie was born and my mother died, and we didn't come back here to Pennsylvania for a while. When we did come back, I had little Sadie, and didn't think about trying to make the hike.

This year, we have been hanging out with our neighbors who have little children. They are also homeschoolers -- surprise! The other day we were watching the kids play and she asked me if I knew where there was a waterfall down the valley. As I was recounting my trip with Lori to look for the falls, it occurred to me that Sadie could stay with Ahno while Benny and I walked down to the falls the old fashioned way -- down the creek. Then there would be no question about which branch of the logging trail to take, or when to cut down to the water, or anything like that.

So today, we went out in search of the falls.

After two hours of hiking down the valley, we found them:



Benny was so excited, he was exploding out the top of his little red head. All the way down, he had been identifying smaller, less glamorous waterfalls and saying, "Is that it? Is that the falls?" And I would say, "Well, I don't know, maybe, maybe an earthquake came and changed up the falls and now I don't recognize them." So he had no idea how big it was actually going to be. He was very surprised.

Here we are just starting out:



Little old red bridge at the bottom of our valley. This was our old swimming hole when I was a kid. A local farmer would dredge it out yearly and move some of the huge rocks, so you could actually swim and the water was over my head in spots.

Benny on the way down the creek:



An old stone foundation:



My Nana and I used to spend hours sitting here talking on this "look-out" spot, high above the creek. The ridge is kind of bounded by one giant root of the tree, like a railing. Now it's all overgrown and the tree has been cut down. She is someone who can talk to a child in a way that makes the child feel like a real person.



Here's Benny getting his first look at the falls. I let him go on ahead a little bit when I knew we were almost there, so he could "discover" it. He was whooping and hollering like he'd been stung by a rhino. It made a big impact.



For some reason I can't embed the videos, but if you go here, you can see Benny narrating his sliding out from under the falls, and if you go here, you can see the falls from on top.

So, after we were done goofing around at the falls, we headed up the hill to find the logging trail. After two hours of rock hopping Benny was still full of energy and leaping and running ahead of me as I clambered up. We got to the trail and Benny took off, while I marked the way at each fork with a lavender ribbon so we can find our way again coming in via the trail. We had been hiking out for about ten minutes when Leroy started looking weird and sniffing at something up the hill. I stopped, looked up, and I could see, silhouetted against the sunlight, the shape of a bear's head. Two big round ears, big round heead, a bear. Looking at me. My heart stood still. In that moment, I thought, no, it's too still, it's a rock formation, but it's so symmetrical! I actually thought for a second that someone had put a bear statue out in the woods. That was just the beginning of my irrational reaction. As I watched, paralyzed, the bear turned its head slowly around to look at something else and I saw its nose, unmistakable, real.

Let me digress for a moment and tell you that when I was very small, I mean very very small, I read an article in Reader's Digest about a man who had been attacked by two bears. The account was very graphic and included a description of him being disastrously mauled, having to pretend to be dead as he bled out like a fountain, and then crawling away, clasping his scalp to the top of his head to keep it on. Ever since I read that, at the wise, rational age of four or something, I have been super-freaked about bears. When I went walking in the woods by myself as a kid, I used to carry a big stirring spoon and a sauce pot and bang them at intervals to ward off the herds of slavering bears with their red-rimmed eyes, their trumpeting, lip-quivering yells, and their knife-like claws. When I started taking walks with the kids as an adult, bears remained in the forefront of my mind.

Now, here was a bear. Probably twenty feet up the hill from me. Yes, I should have let Benny look at it. Yes, I should have taken a picture. How I wish I had taken a picture, to silence my sarcastic husband who keeps chortling about "pickanick baskets." But I did not take a picture. I walked briskly forward, grabbed Benny by the hand, whistled briskly for Leroy, and we marched along the path. "Sing," I said to Benny. "Loudly." Benny, who spends much of his time being told *not* to sing, was happy to oblige. When I felt that we had briskly walked far enough, I told Benny, "RUN." And we ran as far as I could run. Then we walked until I could run. Then we ran. Like that, back to the van. What had taken us two hours by creek, hopping rocks and chatting, took us less than 30 minutes by logging trail, running like there was a bear snapping at our heels.

The bear was probably fine. Benny was never worried. When he finally was convinced that I wasn't kidding, he pleaded to be allowed to go back and LOOK AT IT. Madness. When we got back to the van, I realized I had been inhaling one long inhale ever since I saw the thing. I had so much adrenaline in my blood I probably could have torn it limb from limb, given the need. But we made it back to the van. We marked the trail for future use. And when Dan gets here next week, HE can take us back to the falls. I will be carrying my sauce pot and spoon, thank you. And Benny will be singing.