Tucson, Friday, October 8, 2010

On Day 2 in Tucson, we went to the Pima Air Museum. Jason loves airplanes. Every year that he's lived in Rhode Island, he's gone to the air show. This past year I actually went with him, and had a good time, though I must say it's just as much fun to people watch at these things as it is to look at the airplanes.

I've always been kind of blase about air shows in general because there's a big Air Force base in Tucson, as well as the Air Museum and the airplane graveyard (as featured in Can't Buy Me Love, and, to a lesser extent, Transformers 2). I grew up going to the Air Museum with my dad and Papaw every time Papaw was in town. One time the space shuttle flew over my junior high riding piggyback on a 747 on the way to the base.

OK, that was pretty cool.

But basically, I've seen a lot of planes in my life. The first time I went to the air show in Chicago, I watched a big plane fly back and forth along the Oak Street Beach and was like, "Wait. That's all it's going to do?"

I knew Jason would LOVE the Air Museum, though. Plus, I discovered that you can now go on a tour of the airplane graveyard and I totally wanted to do that. I was pleasantly surprised when we got there to discover that the museum has expanded a lot since I was little. We took a docent-led tour through a couple hangars, rode the tram through the airplanes set up outside, and then loaded onto a bus for a tour of the airplane graveyard.

I highly recommend the docent-led tours. The docents are actually very old retired Air Force officers who like to pepper their stories about the planes with anecdotes and life lessons. One of them also informed us that the physical therapy exercises his Peruvian nurse had taught him were working wonders. Which, you know, is great news.

In the hangars:



Jason's favorite, and one of the museum's prizes, the Blackbird


Jason next to his plane

After touring the hangars, we caught the tram to take us through the rows of airplanes outside. I'm not even sure if they had the tram tour when I was little, but I had never done it before and I recommend it. Each airplane has a sign in front of it stating what the plane is called and the year it was made, but that's pretty much it. The tram driver had a little anecdote for each plane and that made it all the more interesting.
Some A-10s from the base flying by (see what I mean about how easy it is to be blase about the planes? They're just kind of always there.)

The next plane is kind of awesome. After building the Saturn V rocket (used in Apollo), NASA realized it was too big to ship to Florida via train. So they modified a big airplane by expanding it with a giant bubble on top to fit the rocket.
This was my favorite airplane when I was a little girl. It used to be parked right next to the fence, so I could see it from the road whenever we drove by. I named it "Goofy" because it reminded me of him with that nose.

A giant helicopter, set up to carry huge cargo in what would be its belly, but is instead an open area with cranes and pullies and such.

Grrrr!
FYI, if you ever see a plane with "United States of America" written on the side, and the blue paint goes up and over the cockpit, that means it's Air Force One.

On the tram tour:

Jason standing in front of the planes:

On the bus to the airplane graveyard, or "boneyard".
The boneyard is actually the 309th Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group (AMARG).

Not only is the AMARG the place where the US government lined up all the planes and lopped off strategic pieces of them to prove to the Soviets (and now the Russians) that the planes were no longer in use, but it's also a spare parts depot for the US Air Force and other air forces all over the world. The tour guide told us it's one of the few military installations that actually makes money by selling spare parts and saves the Air Force money by refurbishing current planes to extend their lives.

There are many, many planes lined up, just sitting in the middle of the desert.


C-130 flying overhead about to land at the base.








We spent pretty much the whole day with the airplanes and Jason was in heaven. Then we headed toward the U of A campus to grab some dinner before meeting up with my family. After a frustrating hour and a half or so of driving around and realizing maybe you can't go home again because they just close your favorite restaurants and make you sad, we wound up back at El Minuto for dinner for the second night in a row. Which isn't the worst thing in the world.

After dinner, we went to my aunt's improv show (hilarious!), then out for a late happy hour with some of their friends.

Autumn

Several weeks ago I made 2 Autumn wreaths and promised pictures:


And this is the top of the maple tree in our backyard:
Love it!

Tucson, Thursday, October 7, 2010

Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Monday nights we stayed at The Bed and Burro Inn in Tucson. The accommodations feature a two bedroom/two bath guest house with kitchenette on a lovely desert property. Also featured are two burros and three dogs who will happily sit on your feet and allow you to rub their bellies all day long.

Jasper and Quill, the burros, wearing their eye shades. The Tucson sun is brutal, yo.
Gypsy - contender for sweetest dog ever.
I have an in with the owners of the Bed and Burro.

Jason was enthralled with the mountains. For some reason my statements such as "I grew up in a valley surrounded by mountains" or "Going to Utah reminded me how much I miss the mountains" or "I have no sense of direction because I always just told direction by which of the 4 mountain ranges I was facing" never really sunk in and Jason didn't think Tucson had mountains. He took lots of pictures.
This is the view from my grandpa's front yard:
Day 1 in Tucson was a tour of the greatest hits of Kelly's life. We drove past my elementary, middle and high schools, and ended the day on the U of A campus.

First stop was the house I grew up in.
We lived in a townhouse when I was growing up. When I was little, the rectangle of townhouses surrounded a large courtyard with lots of trees and grass. Now there are rocks and cactus, which I appreciate from an environmental perspective, but, frankly, I'm glad the grass was there when I was little and roller skating on the sidewalk and playing tag with all of my friends.

The house is for sale! I totally peeked inside.
Prickly pears (Jason constantly asked me what all the cactus were called. Finally! My desert knowledge comes in handy).
We drove through my old neighborhood, past the pool where I went to swim team practice every summer for many years, and across town.

Everyone in Tucson knows this little landmark:
True story: My best friend Jenn and I totally lived at "Happiness is Submission to God". There are 4 little apartments behind the main house and we had a super fun year there.

Next stop was the U of A campus.



We walked all over campus and I looked like a lame-o tourist gaping at all of the new buildings. Especially the student union. When I went there, the student union was this dark, dank, 1960's-era concrete structure. Since I left they knocked down the old one and built this amazingly gorgeous new building with a bunch of brand-name restaurants. I am impressed. A little intimidated by the commercialization, but impressed nonetheless.

However, the southwest corner of campus is feeling a leeetle bit crowded with all the new dorms. But the dorms are super fancy looking and if I was a freshman I would want to live there.

That night we met my family at El Minuto Cafe, one of my favorite Mexican restaurants, in downtown Tucson. Great end to a fun day strolling down memory lane.

I Need A Vacation From My Vacation

Jason and I just spent 5 1/2 great days in Tucson. It had been over 8 years since I had been there. Lots of things have changed (new buildings on the U of A campus, the sad loss of a couple great Mexican restaurants and the trees on the top of Mt. Lemmon), but lots of things are the same (Gaslight, Saguaro National Park, San Xavier, fun with the extended family). We have a bunch of pictures that I'll be posting (and someday I'll finish our Hawaii travelogue. I have Day 5 all written, I just need to take the time to insert the pictures.)

It's funny, when I lived there I could care less about Southwestern decor. This trip, I got lured into some shops and bought a couple of pieces. They are completely different from everything else we have in our New England home and that difference appeals to me now.

We had an amazing time and crammed a LOT of activities into our days. I was just getting used to the time change when we got back, so I should be a zombie just in time for the Young Women's activity tonight.

Toys

On the one hand, my Crock Pot broke. The handle came off the lid and I don't know if you realize, but it's a bit difficult to lift a lid off of a steaming hot Crock Pot when there's no handle. (Picture various combinations of potholders, dishtowels and tongs.) We got the Crock Pot at Costco and I am totally taking advantage of Costco's liberal returns policy and exchanging it the next time we're up there (the nearest Costco is 45 minutes away. One of the crosses we bear by living in Rhode Island). Really, though, shouldn't a Crock Pot last longer than a couple of years?

On the other hand, Jason just gave me a Kindle for my early birthday present! We're going away for the actual day so I got my present early. I wasn't expecting it at all. To be honest, I have kind of been on the fence about the whole Kindle concept because I love books so much. Of course, as I learned in July, my beloved books require a mountain of smallish boxes and a lot of manpower to move.

So I charged up the Kindle and downloaded two books I've been wanting to read to enjoy on the airplane. Now I'm thinking how handy this would have been in the past. I remember packing a big pile of books to take on my trips to visit the grandparents in Florida every summer. A Kindle would have probably been much appreciated by my dad on one end and my grandpa on the other end, who probably herniated something on my behalf as they lugged my suitcase from point a to point b.

Personal

Yesterday was testimony meeting at church, where members can get up and talk about their feelings about God and Jesus and the church. The old man sitting next to me who is meeting with the missionaries and who I drove to church compared it to "witnessing" at his own church. I told him it was the same idea.

I thought about getting up because maybe I had something that others would need to hear. But I knew if I did, I would start crying and it was debatable whether I could get it out. I was having a hard time not crying just sitting in the pew. So maybe someone will read it here and get something from it.

My mom is sick, which I think most of you know. She has been sick for a long time. Whatever tense mother-daughter history exists between us, the fact is, she's my mom. And she's sick.

Saturday night I talked with her and I found out that there's a new issue that has cropped up. Well, it's not really new, it's just the first time a health professional has actually listened to what my mom was saying and taken her seriously. After her bones and joints and cartilage and stomach and kidney have rebelled on her, now, it's her heart.

My grandma is flying up to watch over my mom for the next week or so while my dad is at work, until my mom can get in to see her primary care doctor about this. I asked when they found out and my mom said 2 weeks ago. I asked why she didn't tell me and she said she didn't want me to worry. I had to tell her that I always worry about her. Always. Every day.

She said she thought maybe if I didn't know the bad news, I would think everything was fine. I told her that I know everything's not fine. It hasn't been fine for a long time.

Sometimes she's really good at being positive and upbeat, sometimes she's not. Saturday night she expressed her frustration and sorrow at being stuck in one room for years and years. At not being able to go to the beautiful places she reads about or sees on TV. At not being able to live her life. She's 53 years old and she's been in a wheelchair for 15 years and in bed with the inability to go anywhere for more than 3 years.

She cried and I cried with her. I cried again as I told Jason about it. I told him, I don't even know what to pray for anymore. For years I have prayed that things would get better, or that they would at least stay the same and my mom would be able to cope and find happiness in that. But the degenerative nature of her diseases means that things don't get better and they don't stay the same. I find myself at a loss when I open my heart to God because I don't even know what to ask.

Jason said, Maybe you should ask for God to take care of it.

His words struck such a chord with me. I know it's an old concept, captured in trite phrases like Let Go and Let God, but it was what I needed. I can't take care of it. Heaven knows, I would if I could. But this is an unsolvable problem. There is nothing I can do and I feel alternately guilty and frustrated and sad because I can't do anything.

I can ask God to take care of it, and I feel peace in that.

Happy September!

We're about to start my favorite season of the year. I'm so excited and looking forward to the changing leaves and the apple picking and the pumpkins and spices and crisp, chill air.

I wanted to post a picture Jason took of me this past weekend, sitting on a blanket in the backyard, fashioning my Autumn wreaths. Only when I tried to download it last night directly off the camera, the camera stopped working. Just pffft, nothing. One minute I flipped the front down and it turned on and I scrolled through the pictures. Then when I plugged it into my computer and tried to turn it on, nothing happened. We tried a new battery, I tried the old trick of blowing on the battery contacts, I jiggled the cord at both ends to make sure it was really connected, we tried a different cord. Nothing.

Anyone have any idea why a Nikon Coolpix S70 would just suddenly stop working? Jason would really like to know.

Well, I'll post pictures of the wreaths once I hang them up.

In the meantime, it's supposed to be 94 degrees today. And apparently we have a hurricane headed for us.

But Autumn will be here eventually.

Autumn

I may or may not have bought some Autumn decorations at Michael's last night. Usually I try to wait until the end of the season when everything is on sale, but the things I bought were already on sale. Take that, Jason's frugality!

I bought a couple things to put together a very simple wreath to hang on the front door. I'm hosting a ladies' craft night tonight and plan to work on the wreath. Then I need to figure out a way to hang the wreath without hammering anything in the door. If it was my house, I would probably put a nail in the door, but since it's not...

Despite caving a bit, I think I showed remarkable restraint in the face of Michael's seasonal aisles. We have a front door and two side doors and don't think I wasn't decorating the side doors in my mind. Not to mention the inside of our new house. I have a few Autumn decorations already, and I need to find them and get them ready for display post-Labor Day. The good thing about our new house is that since there are lots of closets and storage that means not every flat surface will be covered with clutter (ostensibly). So if I put out a decoration, we'll actually be able to notice the decoration, rather than it just being one more thing on the table.

New Hampshire/Maine Weekend

I'm working on the rest of the Hawaii posts right now. Jason and I have agreed that the next time we go on a trip with 8 adults there will be one designated photographer and no one else will be allowed to take pictures. I spent a couple of hours yesterday just going through hundreds of pictures of Day 5, which was admittedly a big day what with the VOLCANOES! and LAVA!, but still.

In the meantime, last weekend Jason and I took a quick jaunt up to New Hampshire and Southern Maine, which apparently is what the rest of Massachusetts and Rhode Island decided to do last weekend too. Seriously, the crowds at the beaches were ridiculous.

Our first stop was at the Robert Frost Farm in Derry, New Hampshire.

The tour was kind of ridiculously long because the tour guide loved telling little stories about the family. Frankly, it was great!

Elinor Frost's Royal Doulton china. Lovely.

After years of neglect and being used as a car salvage yard, the farm was bought and restored with the help of Robert and Elinor's daughter, Lesley. Although most of the furniture and other items in the house are not original, Lesley worked diligently to fill the house with items reminiscent of the house she grew up in. However, she did say that the red wallpaper in the kitchen was the exact same wallpaper that was in the kitchen when she was a little girl.

I loved looking at the kitchen implements laid out in the pantry.

Old stove.
Only $13.95!

The phone connected to 10 party lines. Apparently Rob liked to listen in.

Robert Frost's chair. I can't remember what kind of chair it was, but apparently he always had one of these chairs wherever he lived.

Bedroom.

The little cabinet to the left of the bed is a discreet chamber pot holder. Clever.

After the tour, we walked around the field and into the woods, along a portion of the trail that used to be one of the main horse trails connecting the farms to the town. Robert Frost later said it was at the edge of his farm on this trail where he wrote "Stopping by Woods on A Snowy Evening".

The field. Robert Frost liked to cut the grass with a scythe.
A pond filled with so much life. Turtles:

And many, many frogs.

Once we noticed the first frog, we realized they were everywhere.

Afterward, we headed to Lake Pawtuckaway in Nottingham, NH and our campsite for the evening. The beach at the lake was bursting with people, but it was lovely all the same.

(This was a less crowded part of the beach)We went canoeing, but don't have any pictures because Jason didn't want to get his camera wet. As soon as we pushed off from the dock, we headed away from the crowded beach and wound up outside of the state park lands, gliding by a bunch of huge, beautiful lake houses. (One that we loved in particular was for sale and I looked it up online when we got home. Only half a million. No problem, right? However, during my perusal of the Nottingham, NH real estate market, I was delighted to learn that there is, in fact, a Friar Tuck Lane.)

We wound our way all over the lake, with only the occasional jet ski disturbing the peace. I have to say, I'm not a jet ski fan. I'm sure they have their place, but when I'm peacefully canoeing, they kind of ruin the mood. Jason said I only say that because I'm not the one having fun on the jet ski. Maybe.

Next time we go to Pawtuckaway, we want to reserve a lakefront campsite. We kept seeing all these people with prime sites just leaping straight into the lake without bothering to go all the way to the official beach.

The next morning, we packed up camp and headed for southern Maine. The plan was to go to Ogunquit, walk along the Marginal Way and go to the beach. I had a feeling there might be a flaw in our plan when we hit a wall of traffic a couple miles outside of Ogunquit. We snaked through town and drove by the beach and decided we really didn't want to pay $15 to park and go to an insanely crowded beach. I don't think I've ever seen so many people on a beach. We headed further north on 1 and pulled off at Footbridge Beach, where there was a parking spot with a 30 minute limit so we decided to stop and check it out before committing (with a hefty long-term parking fee). We walked on the footbridge, over a peaceful canal, and hit the beach.

Which was insanely crowded.

On the footbridge. So. Many. People.

Nevertheless, we decided to make the most of our 30 minute parking limit and walk up and down the beach a bit. Now here's what I found hilarious. For about 100 yards from the beach access (read: parking lots) on either side, the beach looked like this:

To our left:

To our right:

However, this is what it looked like where we stood. I guess 120 yards is just too far to walk...

After 30 minutes, we got back in the car and continued north. We made it to Kennebunkport where we stopped for lobster rolls and chowder at the Port Lobster Co. It's not a fancy place. There's not even a place to sit down. But we read about it on yelp.com and decided to try it.

The food was fantastic! I have eaten a lot of clam chowder in my years in New England, and I have to say that it was honestly the best chowder I have ever had. If you are willing to wait 20 minutes, they'll even steam a lobster for you (at only $4.99 a pound as of last weekend).

We got our food and drove around the corner to the dock where the lobster boats come in.

Lobstah roll!
Watching the boats

While we ate, we eavesdropped on a local telling his buddy all about clam digging. He told his buddy if he's ever driving by and sees his car in the driveway, to stop in and he'll give him a bucket or two of clams. I asked Jason if he thought we could stop by for some clams too.

After lunch, we walked out to the end of a breakwater and watched boats coming in and out of the harbor (including this HUGE yacht that I was a little concerned would take out some of the lobster boats).

Then we continued north, only we decided not to go back to 1 (the main road) and went down 9 instead. 9 eventually turned into a two-lane highway with not much to see, but for about a half hour outside of Kennebunkport, it was a lovely, windy road through lovely little towns. Since it's not the main drag there was hardly any other traffic.

We made our way to Ferry Beach State Park, but balked at the $12 parking fee to access the beach. Little tip: outside of the park and actually next to the beach (the park is across the road from the beach) is FREE beach parking. And because the beach is so far (relatively speaking) from the most popular beaches, there is hardly anyone there. We splashed a bit in the 61 degree water. (I had to keep getting out because the cold was making my feet ache).
Jason made friends with a little 4 year-old boy and they ran from the water as the waves rolled in. Adorable.

We headed home after that, stopping in Portsmouth, New Hampshire for dinner at The Friendly Toast on a friend's recommendation. Great food and funky atmosphere. Jason fit right in with the servers with his beard and post-camping messy hair. (And now I've just discovered there's one up in Cambridge. How did I not know about this place? I know where we're going for dinner the next time we're in Boston.)