Tag Archives: family

The Long and Winding Road

Our trip home took us across Escambia, Santa Rosa, Okaloosa, Walton, Holmes, Washington, Jackson, Gadsen, Leon, and Jefferson counties (and that was simply along Interstate 10). Then, we headed south following U.S. 19 to avoid traffic nonsense on I-75 so we hit up Taylor, Dixie, Levy, Citrus, Hernando, and Pasco counties before arriving in our home county of Pinellas. 17 Florida counties (out of 67) on our return trip for a wild 8+ hour car ride. We are happy to be home.

We did some adventuring along the way with a visit to Falling Waters State Park in the Panhandle (Washington Co.) to see the tallest waterfall in Florida. Yes, you read that right – a waterfall exists in Florida. It is 73-feet tall and descends into a sinkhole in true Florida style. There are multiple sinkholes to see along a nice boardwalk trail, and wikipedia tells me that they were used as hideouts by Native Americans fighting against Andrew Jackson during the Seminole Wars.

My kids loved trying to throw rocks and leaves into the sinkholes when Keith and I weren’t looking (don’t they know that we are always watching?), running down the boardwalks, and fighting to be the leader of the hike. The other highlight was getting to see a fox squirrel build its nest, and simply being out of the car and not at a rest area/gas station along the highway.

Sinkholes
Throwing sticks and leaves
Turtle!

While we were looking for lunch, we got alerts that a tornado warning had been issued for our county and given the previous weeks’ situation with tornadoes and the fact that there is literally no where to go to hide from tornadoes in Florida, I low-key panicked. Luckily, they were spotted about 45 minutes west of us so we quickly ate and got back on the road, refusing to stop for the kids until we were out of the panhandle. I don’t think any tornadoes touched down in the area where we were, but it was still scary. The rest of the car ride home was uneventful. We ate dinner in Crystal River and brought food to Keith’s parents (who were staying in a hotel there for the night), and then finished the long trek home.

Overall, it was a fantastic trip, and I would go back to Gulf Shores again (even though it’s the same Gulf of Mexico we have here in Pinellas). It’s nice to enjoy a change of scenery that is reminiscent of home.

Happy New Year – Let’s Go Outside & Explore!

We kicked off 2022 by heading outside to Gulf State Park in Gulf Shores for a bike ride around Lake Shelby, which is 750 acres across. As we drove through the park looking for a good place to begin our adventure, we noted that its infrastructure had to be created by Gulf oil spill and hurricane relief because it was clear that a LOT of money had been poured into making this park look awesome. There were long boardwalks across the water and the main highway so parkgoers could visit the beach, a newly designed playground, and a lodge/meeting space that we didn’t even see (but read about). It’s an immense park and we were excited to explore.

The Lake Shelby portion of Gulf State Park

As Keith readied all 4 of our bikes for the trail, I monitored the boys at an excellent playground that blended in well to the overall aesthetic of the park. Both boys loved the challenging ropes course, the variety of swings and things to climb, and the fact that they could run free for a bit to get excess energy out.

Elliot is getting more confident at biking, but he had some trouble getting used to the bumpiness of the boardwalk and the narrow lane he had to stay in while we passed people going the opposite direction. Just when he was finally comfortable with it, the boardwalk ended and he tried to bank a hard left like Henry easily accomplished in front of him. Turns out, he was NOT ready for that yet and fell into the swamp! Keith and I rushed to quickly get him out, and he was fine except for some scratches from the prickly grass.

After surviving the fall into the swamp!

The paved trail around the lake made for an excellent ride, although each boy managed an epic wipeout when they accidentally rode off the trail, resulting in scrapes and hurt egos. Elliot recovered better than Henry, but all of us finished the 7+ mile trail ride and lived to tell the tale.

Some kind of water structure that Grandpop would like.
Almost done!

We found a random seafood restaurant in town for lunch and managed to hold the boys off from getting cheap souvenirs from a place that had both a pirate ship and giant shark (on alternate sides of the building, naturally) to lure them in.

After siesta time at the rental, we drove to the beach at Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge for sunset because I wanted to both end my year and start the next one with sunsets at the beach. A storm was brewing so we couldn’t swim (riptides galore and waves in the Gulf like it was trying to be the Atlantic Ocean), but we played in the soft white sand (Elliot made sand angels since it felt like the consistency of snow) and with a football.

Honestly, the best part of my first day of 2022 was throwing a Nerf football around with my boys in a silly game of monkey in the middle and the ridiculous giggling that ensued. I can’t adequately describe it, but I know that these are the moments I want to flourish this year – the ones of complete joy in the moment.

Elliot said it best when he summed up our beach-time:

We couldn’t stop the fun-ness!

What the fort?!

Outside Tacky Jacks 2

We spent the day in and around Fort Morgan. Ate a fantastic breakfast at Tacky Jacks 2, where our waitress never let my coffee mug be empty and the biscuits were light and fluffy. Henry wants to go back and eat more of their French toast. It was exactly what we needed to start our day.

The fog made the view cloudy until the sun peaked out, and then we had our first sightings of oil rigs in the bay/gulf which was totally weird and made us thankful that Florida currently has a ban on them in our waters.

For the rest of the morning we alternately swam in the unheated & chilly pool and hung out in the nice & hot hot tub. And around noon we had some special guests arrive to stay with us through Sunday – Oma & Opa!

We had planned to bring our bikes on the Mobile Ferry to Dauphin Island, but thanks to a fog advisory no pedestrians were being admitted on the boat (biking around the entirety of the Mobile Bay to return home was not enticing at all). So we changed our plans and visited Fort Morgan instead.

Entering the fort.
Entry tunnel to Fort Morgan

It was an awesome experience. First, we went inside its small museum full of items used at or worn by soldiers at the fort during its time of operation, which was from 1813 as Fort Bowyer until 1947. The kids liked seeing real cannonballs and rifles, and it was nice to get some background on a place we hadn’t heard about before visiting this area.

Fort Morgan (& its partner, Fort Gaines, on the other side of the entry point to the Mobile Bay) helped protect the area from forces during the War of 1812, the Civil War (although the “invaders” here were the Union troops), World War I, and World War II. I admit to being not knowledgeable about any kind of military history so I did my best to pay this place the respect its owed and learn what I could (while chasing my kids around).

After being turned over to the state of Alabama as a historical park in 1947 (and designated as a National Historic Landmark in 1960), the fort has been open to the public for visits. It currently is on the list of the “nation’s 10 most endangered battle sites” by the Civil War Preservation Trust because of shore erosion and crumbling infrastructure.

The fort itself consisted of a series of tunnels, including one you had to walk through to enter. Coming out of the entry tunnel you find yourself in the dry moat with a small drainage creek; this was where soldiers could easily move from one side of the fort to another under cover of walls on both sides. Once inside the fort, we were fascinated by the tunnels made of bricks, covered with the sediments of time. The boys loved climbing giant-sized stairs to the roof where they could see the beaches and try to escape from their parents (which was kind of horrifying, given that the railings weren’t huge and the roof was sloped with rivets in places.

Because Fort Morgan was utilized in so many American wars, it had a couple of cool features that allowed our imagination to run wild. First up – the Battery Duportail, added in 1898-1899 – which created two 12-inch breech loading rifles that served as “Disappearing Guns” in battle. They would rise up out of the ground, fire their explosives, and then drop back down for reloading. Pretty genius move to protect the soldiers from enemy fire.

Battery Duportail

For World War II, concerns about U-boats infiltrating and barricading the Mobile Bay caused the construction of a circular concrete gun mount (two were actually built, but only one exists today). This allowed firing on a wider area. The fort was primarily used as an ordnance depot for ships during the war.

Turning back time to the terrible Indian Removal Act of 1830, Fort Morgan had a hand in assisting with the removal of 3,500 Muskogee Creek members from the interior of Alabama as a stopping point on their way to Arkansas and then further west. 93 members of the Muskogee Nation died at Fort Morgan from disease and exposer to its extreme temperatures. As I walked around the fort after learning this, I quickly recognized that the fort was not capable of housing that number of people and was horrified with myself that I’d never deeply thought about the places Native Americans were forced to stay as the government forced them off their land. I would have liked to see more about this at Fort Morgan both in its museum and in the fort itself.

The historic site did a great job depicting the Civil War Battle of Mobile Bay in 1864 through panels utilizing colors (red & blue) to identify boat positions and attacking formations for the fleets, as well as riveting text and artwork. Admiral Farragut led the Union forces to victory, first in the water and then took the fort via a siege. Part of the problem for the Union ships were the torpedos (think land mines, not like torpedos today) blocking entry to the bay. The only ship lost in the battle – The Tecumsah – sank within a minute of being hit. After some time passed likely rendering the torpedoes ineffective, it was reported that Admiral Farragut shouted, “Damn the torpedoes! Full steam ahead!” His action to push the ships through the confusion of battle (& in the hopes that the torpedoes couldn’t explode) decisively turned the battle in favor of the Union forces.

Battery Thomas – built 1898 with mounted rapid fire guns to protect the defensive mine field located across the entrance to Mobile Bay

After we finished our fort tour, we played on the beach until the park closed, finishing the last day of 2021 at one of our happy places – the Gulf of Mexico.

Thankful we don’t have offshore drilling in Florida!
Goodbye 2021!

P.S. – Since Keith’s parents were with us, Keith & I went out to dinner at a total dive called the Flying Harpoon, where the beer was ice cold, the seafood fried to perfection, and the artwork lining all portions of the walls and ceiling – questionable. We recommend it.

Art at the Flying Harpoon
(zoom in for shenanigans)

Arts in Your Library Podcast

For one of my graduate degree courses I was tasked with creating a podcast on any subject I wanted. Because I love theatre and libraries, I created this gem. I hope you enjoy the first episode of my Podcast Arts in Your Library: Beyond Disney Musicals: A Family Guide to Broadway in Tampa Bay and at Your Pinellas Library.

Arts in Your Library Podcast Episode 1

What We Remember (or a Story about Love)

The following was written by Donna Jean (Franks) Schmid, my grandmother. All punctuation and poetry are hers alone. I believe it was written for a Wooster Historic Society or Daughters of the American Revolution (or the like) event where she spoke; no date was listed in her handwritten notes.

“This is my favorite time of year. I am invigorated by the crispness in the air, the gorgeous colors of fall leaves. For me this is a time of renewal, I hope you too can relate to the bounteous harvest and enjoy the fruits of your gardens and trees.

While we are putting our tilled areas to rest, we can dream of next year and the reading and sifting of information during the more dormant months. This is an especially beautiful area and it is no wonder that our ancestors found it to be so. In the coming weeks we can make use of the conveniences? at our command and get to really know those who went before us. Can’t you feel their characters emerge from the thing you read about their lives? Reread portions of Wayne County history books, perhaps the Douglas book, and imagine the wayour area once was. Then place your ancestors in the scenario. Great!

I look out my dayroom window and see the dreamy lilac of the Russian Sage and I think of my grandmother’s starched cotton dress and actually remember the feel of her soft white hair as I plaited and wound it into a bun. Isn’t it odd the things we remember?

I remember the fields of glowing orange pumpkins my father raised and see him in memory with a spade over his shoulder and bending his back, clearing drainage ditches on the lowlands. I see his chambray shirt and faded jeans – you know, I really would like to ask him about the reunion of the Franks family which he attended. What was Grandpa like when he was young? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to peek in a window at evening and see the family gathered around the piano and hear the blended singing of the old songs? How about the homey smells of baking bread, frying ham and then too canning and making jam for the cold days? Do you remember the early orphaned lambs behind the old wood range? Or the bleats of sheep on the hillside? How about the ringing of the dinner bell? The smell of drying hay – the prickly stems as it was tramped into the snow? I remember. I remember and my soul yearns for the old ways.

But then I think of electricity and the inefficient kerosene lamps. I think of penicillin and I guess time and progress is not so bad – just different.”

~

After discovering the above writing in my grandmother’s Bible, I realized I never really knew who she was or how she felt about life and memory. I didn’t know that autumn was her favorite time of the year, or that she experienced intense desire to return to the old ways. I can’t describe her memories of life on the farm because I never really asked. We visited the farm almost every summer and I never thought about it being a working farm. And now the farm is for sale, and I won’t be returning to it. I’m mostly okay with that since Ohio was rarely a happy place to visit.

There was one visit though where my grandparents were at their finest. Keith and I visited them about 10 years ago for Easter, just the two of us, and they were full of such joy showing us the countryside and their community. Unfortunately, I don’t recall many details from that visit but I wish I did. I do remember my Grandma insisting on making us food to take to the airport because airport restaurants had terrible food. She rarely cooked by that point, but managed to scrounge up a thick slice of ham and fry it up for the best ham sandwich of my life.

I guess what I’m trying to write is this: I am confident that my Grandma loved me, she just didn’t usually know how to show it. But as the generations were added to the family, it seemed like she figured things out a little better with this business of love. She ALWAYS made time to love my boys and talk with them about their lives. She hung their art on her fridge. She loved them.

For my mom’s sake, I wish she could have figured out love sooner. She never really told my mom that she loved her, and that’s something my mom carries with her. Breaking a cycle is incredibly difficult, but my mom and her sisters figured it out and my cousins, brother, and I feel fiercely loved by our parents. And I know I love my two boys no matter what, and tell them as well as show them every day. So in her way, my Grandma taught me to love unlike she had loved, in an infinitely forgiving and exponential way so there can be zero doubt in it.

Day 17 – Rockville MD to Santee SC

E: I miss the houses. I miss all the houses.

L: I miss all the houses, too, buddy.

E: I feel sad.

L: I feel sad, too. It’s okay to be sad.

My conversation with Elliot yesterday morning sums up how I feel about being on the tail end of a wonderful vacation. Clearly, he misses the people who live in the houses. Who he can’t keep straight because he is three and there were so so many loved ones we visited with over the past two and a half weeks.

As we drove home, I just wanted to be home already. If we couldn’t be en route to a loved one’s abode, then I just wanted the trip to be over. Especially when we were stopped in traffic in Maryland and Virginia and the we were all achingly sad with leaving our final friends’s house. We all dealt with our feelings in different but typical ways. Henry kept scratching his brother. Elliot threw things around the vehicle. Then Henry would throw things back. I anxiously tried to ignore everything, but did a terrible job because of the confined space. Keith stayed level-headed until all the other mess happening in the car got to him and he exploded once.

These bad behaviors occurred so briefly on our vacation that they stand out in memory as exceptions to the overall awesomeness. Don’t get me wrong, they often occurred when we rode in the car for an extended period of time. But then laughter would fill the air as Henry decided to make Elliot laugh instead of hurt him because that was more fun. Or we’d all listen to an audiobook waiting to hear how things would end for “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” or “Ugly Cat and Pablo.” Or a kid would fall asleep mid-sentence bringing the car to a peaceable silence. I couldn’t ask for better travel companions. I love them all the most.

We stopped at Santee State Park on the edge of Lake Marion before checking into our hotel for the night. A last-minute decision, its beauty at sunset filled the sky with warmth. We stood near the docks enjoying the cool breezes the end of the day brings, and then raced to the playground for the kids to burn off their sitting-all-day energy. We’ll have to return another day to conquer its several hiking trails. On our way out of the park as darkness surrounded us, we discovered 7 deer alongside the road including a fawn. The boys found them especially delightful. I forget how rare it is for suburban kids to see wild animals outside a zoo. I think I’m going to work on finding the wonder in the ordinary and see what happens.

Day 16 – Rockville MD

A nice way to close out a fantastic vacation is to not really have anything planned and to simply enjoy our friends’ company.

Kate and I (and all the little boys plus Keith) took a walking tour of two playgrounds and a trail. The littles liked climbing the rocks more than the actual playgrounds, as they should. Keith loved the large trees towering over the trail. We could have hit up a third playground to complete our play triangle, but our hunger for second breakfast persuaded us otherwise.

Swimming wore out the kids and created a meatball monster in Elliot. We calculated that he ate at least 10 meatballs as part of his lunch that included pasta and peas. During nap time, Henry pulled out his first tooth! It was a bit of a production before he got it out; ibuprofen plus a special placebo concoction created by Jon helped make the pain go away.

We finished the day was some blue bear ice cream sandwiches and loads of running around. Fueled by dessert or just full of energy, it was a joyous end to our day.

Day 15 – Rockville and Gaithersburg MD

When did I become the kind of person who attends church services while on vacation? Sometime during between Keith graduating Seminary in 2011 and now. I think it’s because it’s just so rare for all 4 of us to sit together during worship that I want to take advantage of it whenever I can. Also, it definitely helps to attend our friends’ churches where they’re preaching and presiding. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a close friend give you the bread of life for communion, but it’s an indescribably special moment that keeps me smiling all week. It makes me happy just thinking about it, and I typically receive communion from my own husband.

We worshipped at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church in Gaithersburg, Maryland yesterday, and Kate gave an excellent sermon. The band played some of my favorite songs, and we noisily sat with the Costas (although Elliot moved up a row so he’d have more dancing and playing space).

Afterwards, we swam and enjoyed each other’s company. And ate tacos. A great day on a vacation full of great days.

Day 14 – Jamestown RI to Rockville MD

Beavertail State Park in Jamestown got its name because of its shape – people thought it clearly looked like a beaver’s tail. I didn’t really see it like that, but it’s possible. Before we headed off the island, we visited this park because it’s Hudson’s (Cindy’s dog) happy place. Not only that, it’s incredibly beautiful with its rocks jutting out into the sea and a lighthouse overlooking the southern tip of the peninsula.

We climbed some of these giant rocks that were mostly safe for kids to be scurrying over, and walked along the coast. I’m so happy we made it, because it’s such a peaceful place. Especially when contrasting it with driving among the vehicles on I-95 (our main portion of the day).

We took a break in Metuchen, New Jersey to see our good friend Chris (we hope you feel better soon, Lisa!) It had been eight years since he and Keith graduated from seminary, so you can imagine the catching up that occurred. On our southerly drive, we ticked off the last few new states for the kids – Connecticut, New Jersey, and Delaware – so now the only ones left are ones we’ve traversed before.

Arriving in Maryland, we received Costa love and Henry relished his big brother role by reading to the three-year-olds at bedtime. More fun and hijinks to ensue in the next couple of days here.

Total miles driven = 412 Miles

Day 13 – Jamestown and Newport RI

The boys did an admirable job of walking all over the town of Newport, Rhode Island. We spent our morning hiking the Cliff Walk and imagining ourselves residing in the mansions along the way. We hopped over the rocks, traveled through tunnels, built (and knocked over) stacks of rocks, and watched crabs scuttle along. We walked over 3 miles, with Henry going the whole way and Elliot being carried for a good portion of the trail. We drove past the mansion-fronts afterward and headed home for a lunch of ice cream and pizza (because vacation).

We rode the ferry from Jamestown back over to Newport for dinner. The boat was packed like sardines because the majority was headed to the Newport Folk Festival at Fort Adams. Since we were not, we snagged a table without a wait at one of Cindy’s favorite places. We keep getting relegated to the corner with the kids, but I like it because it allows for more mischief (and this time a window-seat to people gaze). We capped off our day swimming in Cindy’s neighbor’s pool and hot tub, which was exceedingly kind of Joe. I love hot tubs (and so did the boys)!