Just an hour from the Twin Cities lies a site that is definitely cooler than the Colossus, more magnificent than the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus (who’s heard of that anyway?), and nearly as charged with New Age Energy as the Great Pyramid. Plus it is toddler-friendly, has pink picnic tables, and is totally entirely FREE.
See for yourself:
The Refrigerator
At first glance this mid-size, older model fridge might not appear to be in the same class as the Hanging Gardens, but look more closely:
The Sign
Are you kidding me? In post-Jerry-Garcia America there’s an unlocked, unattended refrigerator filled with Freezee Pops and a “Suggested Donation” sign? Even after wandering the rest of this amazing, soul-salving site, I think this fridge did the most to reaffirm my faith in humanity.
Ok, enough shenanigans. It’s taken me a while to post the pics, but earlier this month we drove out to the Franconia Sculpture Park with Griffin and had a fabulous day. For those of you not in the know, it’s a 20-acre site in the middle of nowhere (by urban standards—cornfields all ’round), filled with incredible, humongous modern sculpture. Places like this make Minnesota oh-so-easy to fall in love with.
Here are some of our favorite pictures. Click to expand.
Alas, we didn’t write down the names of these things. But isn’t this cool?
The luggage incident was, of course, only a small part of our time in France. This was the second part of our Fabulous European Wedding Tour, and it was my (Andrew’s) first time in France. We were staying just outside of a small town called Cordes sur Ciel (built in 1222, perched on a hill, cooler than cool) about an hour from Toulouse in southern France.
When we were planning the trip my good friend James, the groom, knew that we were on a very tight budget, so he kindly suggested that we could stay in the neighbor’s “pigeonier.” I looked up the word and discovered that a pigeonier is more commonly known, in English, as a “dovecote.” Those of us who don’t live on a rural manor might still need a bit of help; according to Merriam-Webster, a dovecote is
A small compartmented raised house or box for domestic pigeons.
Hmm. I took James up on the offer, but wasn’t quite sure what we were getting into.
It turned out that the neighbors in question were stone-masons and had built the pigeonier as a guest-house. It was a four story stone tower with a full kitchen, living room, bath, and gorgeous bedroom at the apex (where the pigeons would have lived had it been a real pigeonier). Pretty awesome.
See many pictures from our trip below (click to enlarge).
We arrived in Toulouse, France, on Thursday to discover we only had two of our three checked bags.
“But we have on file that you have only two checked suitcases. Where are your stubs?”
It was then that we realized we were in trouble. We had not received our luggage stubs from the ticket agent in Rome, and without them, there was no record of us having a third bag.
“We will do our best to find your suitcase. With no tag, it will be difficult, plus…you know…it’s Italy,” says the French agent.
She hands us three “sorry-we-lost-your-luggage” kits (which each include one white t-shirt and a meager toiletry kit) and sends us out the door with a case number and hopes that the suitcase will be found within two days. We are not optimistic.
Did I mention that every stitch of clothing Andrew and I packed for the trip, besides what we were wearing, was in that lost bag? Including the white clothing we had searched high and low for to wear to the wedding that would be taking place two days from that very day?
We counted our blessings: at least it wasn’t Griffin’s clothes and supplies; at least it wasn’t the camera we forgot to take out of the suitcase before checking it; at least we had our toiletry kits; at least we had our swimsuits; at least it included many articles of clothing we had receipts for so we could get reimbursed.
And like stereotypical Americans, we asked how to get to the nearest mall. Right. Now. Seriously, we didn’t even have a change of underwear.
The visit to the Toulouse mall was an adventure. Neither of us speak French, there were no familiar stores, the sizes are completely different, and we were treading on thin ice with our tired toddler. But we went about it with as much grace and humility as possible, found ourselves some Euro-fabulous clothes, and laughed about how we’d be wearing the same thing in all of our pictures for the next week and a half.
After many calls to the airline to check on the situation with little hope of recovery, we fortunately received a call on Friday night saying they had found our luggage and would be delivering it between 9am and 12 noon on Saturday, mere hours before the ceremony. We were cautiously optimistic. By noon on Saturday, we were called by the delivery person to say he couldn’t find where we were staying, so we hopped in the car and met him on the highway. It wasn’t until he opened the back of the van and I saw our suitcase that I actually believed that they had it. We were ridiculously excited.
And low and behold, it DID have a tag. We received our white clothing just in the knick of time for James and Eliza’s wedding AND we ended up with some oui-oui French clothing. Win-win, in my book.
We started the summer off with a bang this year and it all still feels a bit like a dream.
In a bizarre turn of events, we were invited to TWO weddings in Europe this summer that happened to be one week apart and relatively close to each other physically. The first was in the south of France, not far from Toulouse. The other was in Umbria in central Italy. As part of our policy of doing things that seem impossible (like the road trip to Minnesota with a one-year-old last summer), Sarah and I committed to going and have been working hard all year to make it happen. On June 11 (the day after my duties at school ended) we boarded a plane for Rome!
Our trip divided neatly into three sections:
We spent our first four nights in Vernazza, part of the Cinque Terre in northwest Italy. We were on our own here, getting over jetlag and getting used to the rhythm of travel with a toddler.
Then we flew to Cordes sur Ciel in southern France for James and Eliza’s wedding where we stayed in an ultra-cool pigeon coop.
Finally we spent a week in Macerino, Umbria, for Tyler and Mieka’s wedding.
So as not to overwhelm everybody we’ve divided our photos into three sets to fit with these divisions. This blog entry highlights the first part of the trip, including a few of our favorite photos. Click on any of the photos to see the complete photo album with many more fabulous pictures.
Aside from the pictures, some favorite memories included:
After 22 hours of travel we arrived in Vernazza with little to no sleep. Even with our exhaustion, we were amazed by the town: steep terraced hills, buildings piled on top of each other, vivid colors, staircase “streets”, and a cool breeze blowing in from the Ligurian Sea. We tossed our luggage into our tiny one-room apartment and walked to the waterfront for some pizza and a view of the sunset. Afterwards we all slept for twelve solid hours. (Griffin was great with sleep; we haven’t shared a room with him since co-sleeping as an infant so we were worried.)
On our first day, Griffin awoke from his nap to say, loudly, “Go to the beach? Ok!” (He’s got this thing right now where he poses his favorite ideas as questions and then immediately says “Ok!” as if granting himself permission.) He loved the beach, laughing at the waves, covering himself with sand, and splashing in the water. His tiny little body would get SO cold, though, that we often had to take breaks so that he could return to a normal color.
Vernazza is a town of amazing views. As mentioned above, the streets are all super-narrow, and usually steep. (No cars allowed, since they can’t fit.) Suddenly you will pop around a corner and find a breathtaking vista where you could see much of the town arrayed beneath you (and the terraced vineyards continuing to climb into the sky). We loved the pace of life where we could just wander around, enjoying the views, sampling the food, and splashing at the beach.
We were all mesmerized by the trains. There are two tracks passing through town, but for the most part they are in tunnels in the mountains. The town’s platform is tiny with buildings all around it. Only two or three train cars actually fit on the outdoor platform, so most of the train is in the tunnel on either side when it stops. It’s a bit spooky having to walk through the dark to get on or off the front or rear cars. Many trains on these tracks don’t stop at the small town either, and so they come roaring through at full speed. Before you can hear or see them, a cold wind starts blowing from the tunnel. Everyone grabs their hats, and then the thing comes blazing past, vanishing into the next tunnel. Over the beach there is an expanse of track where the trains are visible again, high up on a masonry wall. Something about the combination of medieval architecture and the constant trains whipping by reminded me of Miyazaki films with their eclectic mix of technology and magic.
Griffin has become quite the little mimic lately. We’re starting to really watch what we say for fear it will be repeated in his sweet tiny voice. Here are some highlights:
Careful honey! – Griffin says this to himself whenever he’s in a precarious position or doing something I’ve told him is dangerous. It’s adorable (except for the doing dangerous things part).
‘Scuse me! – He’s gotten in the habit of saying “excuse me” to people when they are in the way of his desired path or if he accidentally steps on someone, but he’s also been saying it to plants, beds, toys, etc., as in, “Scuse me, tulip!”
Come on! – I’m not exactly proud of this one as I know it comes directly from me and my big mouth when I’m frustrated. He even uses the exact intonation and context, like when he’s trying to open a container of play dough and the lid isn’t coming off, out flies, “Come on!!” Ah, well. At least it isn’t “mother-trucker-asphalt.”
Orange sun, Mama! Good morning, Mama/Daddy! – We bought a night light for Griffin a while back that is a moon when he’s supposed to be sleeping/in his room and a sun when it’s ok to get up. It’s worked really well for us, and even the mornings when he opens his door too early and I have to remind him to wait until the orange sun appears and then he can say, “Orange sun, Mama!”, he just says, “Ok. Bye-bye!” It is just about the sweetest thing in the world to hear him exclaim in his little voice “ORANGE SUN, MAMA! GOOD MORNING!” from behind his bedroom door. He is just so happy and excited, it’s hard not to start the day with a smile.
We’ve had a wet, cool spring here in Minnesota, so the arrival of summer has come like a flash! All of a sudden, the trees are full with foliage, gardens are exploding with all the colors of the rainbow, the sun is shining, and the outdoor festival season has begun. One of the things I really love about the Twin Cities is the Season of Celebration, otherwise known as summer. There is no shortage of celebrating the warmth and extended daylight with music, art, theater of all kinds, restaurants spilling out onto the sidewalks, and plenty of places to play, play, play.
Griffin and I enjoyed our first festival today, the Flint Hills International Children’s Festival in downtown St. Paul, and it really felt like a true kickoff to summer! We started our visit with a theater performance at the Ordway called Corbian the Dinosaur (check out the link! It’s really cool!) It was billed as a “glow in the dark adventure,” and it seemed right up his alley. This was Griffin’s first professional theater experience, though, so I wasn’t sure how long he’d last. But to start off, he was fascinated by the theater with its gold railings, velvety seats, and lights along the aisles! I chose seats close to an exit just in case we needed to make a quick escape, but as soon as the lights dimmed, he settled into my lap and watched. the. show. for. an. HOUR! I couldn’t believe it. He was entranced by the glowing figures, loved to clap with the audience, and yelled out, “ALL DONE!” whenever a scene would end (we’ll work on theater etiquette at some point!). A smashing success!
Next we headed out across the street to Rice Park where there were vendors, free art projects, and shady spots to watch people dancing on the side of a building. Seriously. These acrobatic building dancers called Project Bandaloop were AMAZING. Actually, I thought they were incredible and mesmerizing while Griffin was all into the bronze Peanuts sculpture of Lucy reading a book that we were sitting next to. Ah, to each his own.
The icing on the cake was nearly an hour spent in a public fountain seemingly made for water loving kids (and Griffin is most definitely a water loving kid who sometimes asks for a bath 3 or 4 times a day). Hamm Plaza was transformed into Discovery Garden (check out this time lapse video of it being made), which really should have been called Joyful Garden. I wish I had brought our good camera, but here are some shots from my phone of Griffin in the midst of pure summer bliss:
Griffin plunks himself down in the fountain!
Kids were lining up to stand in front of the little waterfall.
Beautiful art that begs to be played in is the best!
All in all, a fabulous start to summer. Bring on the adventure!
We were lucky enough to be on the last stop of the Grummy 2011 Grandchild Tour a few weeks ago, when Andrew’s mom, Sandy, stayed with us for a week! Between all the moving that’s been going on in our lives in the past year and settling into our new home, we hadn’t seen her since last spring, so a visit was long overdue. She wanted to see our new digs and spend some quality time with Griffin, so we got to host her here in Minnesota! Griffin was quite excited that Grummy, who normally appears on our computer screen, would be staying with us. He was quick to tell her all his new words, sit on her lap for some reading, and show her around the house. Every morning he excitedly woke up saying, “Grummy? Grummy?” and would rush down the stairs saying, “Hi, Grummy! Hi, Grummy!”
One of our destinations while she visited was the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden. This is a favorite for us, as well as a great spot for taking photos. This time, once again, did not disappoint!
Spoon Bridge and Cherry & Springtime with Grummy
Spoon Bridge II
Hiding
Runnin'
So BIG.
Contemplative.
Griffin and Grummy deep in conversation.
We also took Grummy to the Children’s Museum, on a tour of Minneapolis lakes, to the Roseville Library, on a tour of Andrew’s school, and to the Mall of America! Overall, it was a great visit for everyone and we loved having a chance to hang out with Sandy. Griffin asked for Grummy in the morning for almost a week after she went home, and he’s still calling string cheese (which was a snack unique to Grummy in Griffin’s world) “Grummy cheese.”
I often work late at school and my desk is somewhat out of sight so I sometimes overhear students talking about things Not Meant for Teacher Ears. Usually this merely piques my anthropological interest. Occasionally, however, I overhear something that requires intervention. Or not. Consider a recent incident:
My grading trance is interrupted by an unknown boy saying sarcastically to another, “Your hair looks like Ethiopia!” Sigh… I’m not sure what this means, but it can’t be good — somewhere on the spectrum from ignorantly inappropriate to overtly racist. The student repeats it, louder, “Seriously, your hair looks like ETHIOPIA!” The other student makes an unintelligible, but baffled-sounding response, while I get up and head to the commons with my stern face. As I round the bend, he repeats it a third time, “Your hair really looks like Ethiopia…” I’m surprised to see a seventh grader who didn’t strike me as the type to say this sort of thing — he’s a sophisticated, culturally sensitive boy. I open my mouth, preparing to Summon him to a Conversation, when he continues, “…see, it’s kinda round here and has a thing sticking out on the right, just like we learned in geography!” I close my mouth and they walk onward, discussing the shape of Ethiopia and other nearby countries.
On a recent, chilly “spring” day, we headed to the Jackson Street Roundhouse with one of Griffin’s buddies from ECFE and his family. We knew there would be trains there, but holy cow! What a cool place! We got to explore real engines, old sleeper cars, and look at all kinds of train ephemera. A roundhouse, for those not in the know, is a circular or semi-circular structure built to service trains. This one used to service steam trains, but is no longer active and has been converted into a museum. Fortunately for us, they also give caboose rides on Saturdays, and this was probably the highlight of the trip for everyone. Having only seen “big choo-choo trains” from a distance, Griffin was in awe and had a blast.
Andrew and Griffin hang out the back of the caboose.
There goes the roundhouse!
A cold and rainy day, Griffin and Andrew decide to head inside.
Lest one think that it’s all roses and unicorns over here, I just had to post about an epic meltdown that is in the works as I type. It’s not really Griffin’s fault: He was woken from a deep sleep by a tornado siren this afternoon (Did you know it’s Severe Weather Awareness Week?), which, admittedly, is perplexing when it happens to adults. But this meltdown has had no end in sight. First we rocked and snuggled. No comfort. Then he requested we go into Mommy’s bed. Hysteria. Then a request to read. Hyperventilating. Then a request for medicine. No dice. Then a request for water, food,…etc. I have finally just left him in his bed to hopefully fall back asleep, or at least calm down slightly. This may be one time where my immediate presence is not helpful in the least. Feeling a bit like a rookie again!
