A Whirlwind of Activity in Atlanta, Georgia

I never told you about the rest of our visit to Atlanta!  We went to the King Center to pay our respects to Martin Luther King, Jr.:

And we went to the Fernbank Museum of Natural History:

Hey, look!  It's the South.

And we went to the High Museum of Art.  I didn't take any pictures there because I think people who take pictures in art museums are obnoxious and I only do it if we have a gallery to ourselves.  It was a blistering Saturday afternoon which meant we were standing cheek to jowl with sweaty strangers (who were plenty obnoxious, by the way) so my camera stayed in my bag.  Luckily just about everything you see in an art museum can also be seen online, so I can show you my favorite thing, which was the Baptistere de Saint Louis.  

It was amazing, and I'm so glad the Louvre decided to share it with us for a little while.  You know what else was amazing?  It had its own oxygen-free display case.  The Goobs were impressed.

After the art museum we went back to the hotel to swim, and then we headed over to Stone Mountain to watch the laser show.  We would have skipped it but my mom's friend's grandpa helped with the blasting of the rock face (or something) and we couldn't leave Atlanta without clapping for my mom's friend's grandpa. We clapped, but we left when the monster truck started chasing the devil across the mountain.

We so don't belong down here.

Georgia Aquarium; Atlanta, GA

The Georgia Aquarium is right next door to the World of Coca-Cola so of course we had to stop by.  They bill themselves as the world's largest aquarium, and their prices reflect that!  You only live once, though, right?  As we entered we had our bags inspected by smiling employees, and then another smiling employee took our picture.  Of course we bought one, because you only live once.  Plus I'm never pictured on my own blog, and that isn't right.

Right away I could tell that the aquarium would be worth the price of admission - they have whale sharks!  Two of 'em!  That is just amazing.  The Goobs were all calm and collected - they just sat there in a viewing window with their little fish guides and identified this fish and that fish,

while I bounced around from window to window hollering, "Look!  Here they come!"  and "Oh, my GOODNESS, it's coming this way!" and "Look, guys!  It's a freakin' WHALE SHARK!"  My poor little Goobers.  They can't take me anywhere.

Look at them!  They're cool as cucumbers, just hanging out in the window as if there aren't two WHALE SHARKS swimming around in that tank.  

Well, you know what?  I didn't need them.  I just kept on bouncing from window to window and muttering, "Whale shark!" to myself at regular intervals.  This gave me great satisfaction because a) it completely embarrassed my family and b) it ensured unobstructed views because nobody wanted to let their children stand too close to me.  Ha!  Hahahahaha!

Eventually The Goobs stepped in and led me gently but firmly away from the whale sharks.  I might have screamed and kicked a little, but I was soon distracted by the interactive touch screen and the lecture on beluga whales.

But as soon as The Goobs turned their backs, I ran right back to the whale sharks. 

I just can't be trusted.

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I want to take this opportunity to tell everyone how wonderful it is to have children the age of my Goobers.  They can go to the bathroom by themselves, they can sit still and listen to a lecture, they don't run away while your back is turned, they don't throw their toys at little old ladies . . . I  had no idea how much time I spent trying to shield an unsuspecting public from the horrors that are my Goobs until I didn't have to do it anymore.  And now they're shielding the public from the horror that is me.

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"Mom, let the little girl look at the whale sharks.  Mom.  Get off the glass, Mom.  MOM!  Come on!  Let the little girl see!  Look, there's a sea dragon.  Isn't it pretty?  Oooh, look at all the sea dragons!"

"And jellies, Mom!  Look at the jellies!  Aren't they pretty?  Look, jellies like JellyMan!  Mom?  Wow, Mom, jellyfish!  Can you say jellyfish?  Mom!  Get back here and look at the pretty jellies!"

They'll be such good parents someday.  But for now, they're still having a good time crawling through tunnels and playing in the touch tank.

 Hey, look!  A freakin' whale shark!

World of Coca-Cola; Atlanta, GA

Now that we finally have orders (to Hawaii!) we need to get serious about seeing all the things we want to see before we leave the Southeast.  We thought about going up to North Carolina to see Roanoke, but the thought of being trapped in a car with The Goobs and me for thirteen hours roundtrip made The Man's eyes bleed, so we drove four hours to Atlanta instead.  Why Atlanta?  Because of its Civil War history?  Because of its Civil Rights history? No, you sillies.  Because of the World of Coca-Cola.

We have been promising The Goobers a trip to the Coke museum for about four years now, and we finally made good!  After we paid our $50! entrance fee (okay, it wasn't quite that much because we bought City Passes, but still), smiling employees ushered us through metal detectors and into the lobby, where we milled around and waited for the next tour to begin (they're on a timed admission system).  We entered another lobby filled with Coke memorabilia and listened to a perky tour guide tell us about the museum and some of the memorabilia in the room.  The tour guide really seemed to love her job, and delighted in telling us that the green stained glass lamp really was a Tiffany.

Tiffany, schmiffany.  My favorite part was the 1980s vending machine.  It took me right back.

After the talk we watched a weird little animated movie that shows what happens after you push the Coke button on a vending machine.  

It was surreal.  The Love Puppy things made me feel squirmy and not much like having a Coke and smile, you know?  But I felt better once we toured the bottling factory.  Everything looked pretty sanitary - I couldn't find even a speck of spit or fur anywhere.

There were a LOT of exhibits to go through.  We watched a documentary about Coca-Cola last year, and The Goobs actually remembered enough of it to be of some help as we were wandering through the vast holdings of the World of Coca-Cola.

The Goobs liked the pop culture gallery the best, and their absolute favorite thing was the couch from the 2005 season of American Idol.  (I think they were so excited because 2005 was the last time I allowed them to watch American Idol.)

Jeez, JellyMan.  Chill out.  It's only a couch.  

When we had seen every last possible style of Coke bottle, Coke can, Coke sign, Coke pencil, Coke painting, Coke t-shirt, Coke coffee mug, Coke flashlight, Coke lamp, Coke toy, and Coke frisbee we saw another Coke movie in 4-D.  After that, we entered the highlight of the museum:  Taste It!

This is where you can sample 64 different Coke products from all over the world.  It was a tough job, but we managed to taste them all.  I took their picture after we had gone through about 40 flavors - their smiles had faded a bit, but they were still game!

My absolute favorite was Bibo Candy Pine-Nut from South Africa.  It was delicious!  Oh!  Remember Tab?  My mom drank that when I was little.  My brother and I would beg for a sip, but she always said, "No, you can't have any.  There's rat poison in it."  We thought she just didn't want to share, but after tasting it I know she was speaking the truth.  Rat poison is indeed the predominant flavor.

Once we made ourselves sick on 64 samples of Coke (I'm pretty sure The Goobs had well over 100) we were treated to:  more Coke!  Each guest receives a complimentary bottle of Coca-Cola from the factory downstairs.  Cool, right?

And then you exit through the Coca-Cola store, where your kids say, "Wow!" and "Oh, look!" and "That's so cool!" and you part with the rest of your cash because you can't stand how cute they are. 

It was a great visit.  Sorry we made you wait so long, Goobs!

Pennsylvania State Monument at Gettysburg

There's really nothing to say about this stop at Gettysburg other than that The Goobs went up to the top and waved at me.  I didn't go up with them so I can't verify this, but they said the entire thing was hollow.  Pretty cool, right?  I mean, it sure looks substantial to me.

I didn't post this picture to tell you the monument was hollow, though.  I posted it to laugh at myself, because I frittered away nearly half an hour playing with this picture in PSE6.  I can't even begin to remember all the things I did; it's the most photoshopped picture in the history of the world, and it looks it.  And now I'm telling you all about it because I feel that I have to confess.  I could have been cooking something or cleaning something or teaching something, but all I have in exchage for my thirty minutes is one heavily photoshopped picture of a monument I don't really care about.

Be ye warned, people.  PSE6 will suck you in and you might never escape.

Soldiers' National Cemetery; Gettysburg, PA

We stopped by the Soldiers National Cemetery one evening to pay our respects.  I like to visit as many national cemeteries as I can.  The Goobs must learn that freedom has its price, and while their father being deployed is a pretty good illustration, rows of headstones drive the lesson home like nothing else. 

Plus, I just like cemeteries.  Always have.

The cemetery is beautiful.  There are wonderful old trees planted throughout the grounds, and each one is labeled so you can walk around and say, "Oh, so that's what the Kentucky coffee tree looks like."  I really appreciated that.  JellyMan liked the plaques along the walks which told Theodore O'Hara's poem, "The Bivouac of the Dead" in manageable little snippets.  Of course, that meant we had to walk around the ENTIRE cemetery, but I'd walk to the ends of the earth for my JellyMan so I didn't mind too much.

This is the Soldiers' National Monument, which stands in the center of the cemetery. 

Yes, The Goobs just HAD to add their pennies to the plaque.

I can't bear to write a big old essay on how the cemetery came to be, but it's a really good story and you should read it.  There's a nice summary right here. 

And this is where the battery in my camera died.  I was so bummed out!  The Goobs really wanted their picture with the cemetery gates, which they saw in the Ken Burns documentary about the Civil War.  (I can't recommend that series enough - it turned my Goobs into Civil War junkies by the end of the first episode!) And just across the street was a park dedicated to the battle on Cemetery Hill.  The Goobs had a hard time during this trip - they really, REALLY wanted to play war, but felt bad even pretending to fire on fellow Americans.  Luckily there was a field of cows down the hill just asking to be hit with artillery.  Rotten cows - they're always trying to take over the world.

Gnadenhutten, OH

We woke up to pouring rain one joyful morning this week, and it didn't take long to convince Dad and Uncle Bo that The Goobers and I NEEDED to see Gnadenhutten.  Gnadenhutten (that's German for "Huts of Peace") is the oldest extant settlement in Ohio.  It began as a Moravian missionary village, and was the site of the Gnadenhutten Massacre, a heartbreaking chapter in history involving the murder of nearly 100 innocent Native Americans by a vengeful militia.  So.  Rain and blood.  Blood and rain.  Good old fashioned fun, I say, and my Goobs agree.

I first read about Gnadenhutten in one of my absolute favorite books - That Dark and Bloody River: Chronicles of the Ohio River Valley, by Allan W. Eckert.  I've mentioned it before, but I'm going to mention it again because it is just that good.  If you live in the Ohio River Valley you should run out and buy this book immediately, because it's great fun to exclaim, "Hey! That's McCulloch's Leap!" as you're driving through Wheeling.  But it would be a great book even if you live in Colorado.  Read it.

Oh, here we are! There's a museum! I love museums!

Closed! Cousin JimBob said, "What, didn't you call first?" Why, no, Cousin JimBob, I didn't. I checked the website, just like any normal person would do, and trusted that the museum would be open during the stated operating hours. And so I drank the dregs from the bitter cup of disappointment. But such is life in the Ohio Valley.  Folks from the Ohio River Valley are familiar with bitter disappointment, so we all recovered nicely.  Besides, I read the pertinent pages from That Dark and Bloody River to everyone on the way, so we were all caught up. We knew a lot more than what is posted on these signs:

Anemone was so impressed with the story of Gnadenhutten that she wrote a synopsis of it in her journal.  And I am so impressed with her being impressed (she's my "I hate history!" baby) that I am posting what she wrote here.

Gnadenhutten, Ohio: 1782

Colonel Williamson and his militiamen were marching, looking for an Indian killing party that had been terrorizing settlements.  When they crossed the Ohio River, they found Private Robert Wallace's wife, Jane, and their infant daughter, Sarah Jane.  They had been tomahawked, scalped and stripped, and impaled on stakes, face up.  They had probably been left there as a warning to the militia.  The soldiers sadly wrapped the two in a blanket and buried them together.  They made a vow to get revenge.

A few days later, Williiamson sent Captain Charles Bilderback to scout.  Bilderback came across several Indians from Gnadenhutten working in the fields and immediately killed them.  Meanwhile, Col. Williams came to the Tuscarawas river across from Gnadenhutten.  They crossed the river and found a number of Indians working in a cornfield.  He told them that he had been sent there to bring them back to Fort Pitt.  He asked them to put down their weapons, and the Indians agreed.  Abraham, the Indian leader, told Williamson that there were fifty more of his people in Salem.  Williamson told him to send runners to fetch them and bring them back.

Robert Wallace saw that one of the Indian women was wearing Jane's bloodstained dress they got when trading with the war party.  There was a vote to excecute all of the Indians, whether they were innocent or not.  The militiamen tied the Indian's hands and feet together and put the men in one buiding and the women and children in another.  Then the runners came back with the people from Salem, and the militiamen took them and tied them up and put them inside with the others.

Williamson waited until next morning so the Indians, who were Christians, could pray and sing for the rest of the night.  In the morning, each Indian was tomahawked and scalped, even the women and the children.  The night before, two children named Thomas and Abel worked all night to free themselves and sat so the militiamen would think they were still tied up.  Thomas pretended to already be tomahawked, and he was only scalped.  The soldier who tomahawked Abel ran out to throw up and left the door open.  Thomas ran through the door and kept running.

In the other cabin, three children named Adam, Esther and Peter crawled into a cellar.  They tried to open the door to the outside, but it was stuck.  After killing the Indians, the militiamen set the buildings on fire.  The children decided to crawl out a tiny window next to the door.  Adam and Esther went out first, but when Peter tried he got stuck inside it.  The building crumpled, and Peter was buried inside.  Adam and Ester ran to Schoenbrunn to warn the other Moravians there.

Isn't she great?

Here is the burial mound.  There were several bunches of flowers left on the other side.  I want you all (well, just The Man, really) to notice and be impressed by my first attempt at merging two pictures in PSE6, even though it looks horrible.  Seriously.  Tell me how cool I am and buy me the full version of Photoshop as a reward.

Here is a more impressive monument to the Indian dead.  The obelisk reads: 

HERE
TRIUMPHED IN DEATH
NINETY
CHRISTIAN INDIANS
MARCH 8, 1782
GNADENHUTTEN

Jeez. I just noticed Anemone is wearing her favorite shirt. Again. I'm going to start calling it her field shirt. She wore it HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE.  Well, she can't wear it anymore because it caught on a nail and tore out at the farm.  I tried to be sorry, but I'm not.  Not really.

This is a strange thing to place a marker for, isn't it?  The building is a recreation of the mission house, but it was as locked up as the museum.  Bummer.

There is also a beautiful old cemetery surrounding the historical park, and we had a lovely time walking through and admiring the headstones.  JellyMan says he wants a crypt when he dies.  I told him he'd better hold off on dying, because if he dies on my watch he's getting a wooden board with "BOY" carved into it.  And that's if he's lucky.

Since we had already come so far, we decided to visit Schoenbrunn, Gnadenhutten's sister village, as well.  This stupid internet connection makes me reluctant to blog about it, but you can read the sanitized story HERE. 

Congaree National Swamp Monument, SC

We spent Saturday afternoon hiking the 4.4 mile Weston Lake Loop trail out at Congaree Swamp National Monument.  Congaree is a brown-water swamp, and it floods about ten times a year.  When the flood waters recede, the flood plain is coated with a new layer of rich soil, which means there are some mighty big trees out there.  Unfortunately, we weren't able to stop and take pictures of any of them because we were too busy evading a large Boy Scout troop which obviously had not been briefed on trail etiquette. Man, they were loud.  We were pretty sure we wouldn't see any river otters or beavers because it was the middle of the afternoon, but thanks to those Boy Scouts we didn't even see any birds or squirrels.  Now that I think about it, I don't remember even hearing any birds! That's okay, because we saw lots of fungus.  We like fungus just fine.  And I've been reading up on lichen, so as we were walking along I was able to say things like, "You know, Goobers, lichen is actually a colorless fungus and a blue-green algae coexisting in a mutually beneficial partnership," and "By the way, Goobers, a rough way to determine whether a growth is a fungus or a lichen is to scrape away a bit of the bark. If there are filaments under the bark and growing up through it, odds are good that it is a fungus."  The Goobers were suitably impressed by my vast stores of knowledge, but of course they've forgotten all of that by now and I'm just dumb old Mom again.

Just so you know, the boardwalk part of the trail is nerve wracking for those of us who fall down a lot. Look at how far apart the boards are. Is that really necessary? Huh?

Here are my three favorite people laughing at me because I am lagging behind taking pictures of my feet.  The last laugh is on them - they thought I wouldn't catch them, but this lens has ZOOM, baby!  I can record those smirks from a mile away.

Once I got past the mile-wide gaps in the boardwalk, everything was fine.  There was a little bit of mud to slip and slide in, but hey, it's a swamp.  Whatcha gonna do?

 

Battle!

The Man and his fellow noncommissioned officers (aka sergeants) had to go on a professional development field trip to a reenactment of the Battle of Hobkirk's Hill out at the Revolutionary War Park in Camden, SC. Families were invited as well, and I revised my "absolutely no squadron activities" policy in order to take The Goobers on a history field trip.  Aren't I a great mom?

After we paid our $18 - eighteen dollars! - entry fee, we wandered around the camp for a while, killing time until the rest of The Man's peeps showed up. The whole reenactment thing is obviously more for the participants than the observers - the only time we could make eye contact was when someone was trying to sell us something.  I blame myself; I could have marched up to people and demanded they tell me stories, but that just isn't my way.  Or The Man's way.  Or The Goobers' way.  We're just not that way, people.  We're shy. 

That's all right; I confess that I've never really been all that interested in the details of making wooden buckets, and I can't say I've ever been tempted to take up woodcarving.  We decided to take a walk instead.  We were the only people on the nature trail, quite possibly because we were the only people not busy buying glass beads and colonial style bonnets.

We saw exactly one sparrow and one anole on our nature walk, which was disappointing but not surprising due to the noise from the artillery demonstration.  We did see some fancy looking fungus, though.  Fungi don't scare easily.

We also saw Pine Tree Creek, which got its name from a fallen pine tree used by Indians and settlers alike to cross the waterway.  I'm not sure because the sign didn't specify, but this might actually be Little Pine Tree Creek, which empties into Big Pine Tree Creek, which in turn empties into the Wateree River.

Upon leaving the woods we saw that The Man's peeps had already assembled, so while he was developing his professionalism I took The Goobers over to the blacksmith demonstration. The smithy gave a good lecture; he told us about the history of blacksmithing all over the world, and I regret not taking notes because now I don't remember a thing apart from how people work the bellows in Africa.  I'm afraid that in my mind blacksmithing rates just a half a step above bucket making and woodcarving.  Anyway, as he lectured he made a cute little heart shaped hook to hang on the wall.  I'm sure they were for sale somewhere.

After the blacksmith demonstration and a brief lunch break, it was time to watch the battle. I'm sorry to say that we were underwhelmed.  (Man. I'm a little embarrassed by my apathy here. My apologies to all you reenactment fanatics.)  JellyMan cracked me up, though.

"Mater, ubi est equitatus?"

Ha!  Ha ha!  Hahaha!

Sorry.

The absence of cavalry was regrettable, but hey, at least the field stayed clean.

I'm much too lazy to write an essay about the significance of the Battle of Hobkirk's Hill (I left that to The Goobers) but here is a narrative of the battle if you're interested. I do recommend reading about South Carolina's involvement in the Revolutionary War, even if it's just out of the World Book encyclopedia. It's good stuff. Here are a few more links to get you started:

The Revolutionary War in South Carolina

The Battle of Camden 

And, because I know you're curious:

African bellows

Edisto Island, SC: Part 2

There's only so much time one can spend searching for shark teeth on the beach before one's eyes begin to glaze over, so we went for a little walk to Spanish Mount, which is what they call the midden. A midden is code for "trash heap." Apparently ancient peoples were a little more particular about their trash heaps than we moderns are; shells went here, everything else went somewhere else. This midden was a little less specialized than others I've read about; archaeologists found animal bones and pottery shards mixed in with all the shells. Here is a picture of the pottery from the case at the interpretive center:

The trail was very pretty, with palm trees, live oaks, and plenty of spanish moss for atmosphere. Unfortunately for me, there were also plenty of mosquitos. I kept everyone entertained by doing my groovy little mosquito dance and smacking myself, muttering darkly every time I squished a full mosquito. That's just so nasty. Whose blood is that? Not mine. Gag, hurl, spew, blurghghph.

Thirty crazy dance moves and five hundred squished mosquitos later, we arrived at the "Mound of Mystery." According to the sign, the "Mound of Mystery" is thought to be about 4,000 years old. In 1809 the "Mound of Mystery" was 20 feet high and covered a half an acre of land. Now it is less than a tenth of that size. The park service stablized the"Mound of Mystery" in 2005 and provided a nice viewing deck. Please don't take any oyster shells, people. There are millions of shells for your enjoyment over on the beach.

Gazing upon the "Mound of Mystery:"

Here are some ancient oyster shells:

And here are some more ancient oyster shells:

And oh, would you look at that - even more ancient oyster shells!

There is only so much time one can spend gazing upon ancient oyster shells before one's eyes start to glaze over, so we indulged ourselves in a little summer home shopping:

 

There's only so much time one (I) can spend gazing upon other people's summer homes before one's (my) eyes begin to glaze over, so we headed back to the beach to look for more shark teeth.  I was much more careful with the sunscreen this time, believe me.

Edisto Island, SC: Part 1 (part 2 if you count the hotdog bun post, which I don't, even though the pictures are nice)

The first time we visited Edisto Island was way, waaaay, waaaaaaaaaay back in 2007 - so long ago that The Goobers could barely remember the details of the trip. Even looking at these pictures wasn't enough to jog their memories, so we did what any concerned parents would do - we packed our things and went again, this time for several days so the experience would have a better chance of sinking in. Jeez, Goobs. Way to inconvenience us.

We had a fabulous time camping at Edisto Island State Park, even though we did not have the good sense to reserve a site on the beach A YEAR AGO, which is what you have to do if you want to camp on the beach. That's okay. We stayed at the Live Oak campground and took long walks around the marsh and saw raccoons and spiders and egrets, and the beach was just a three minute drive up the road. Yes, we could have walked, but then I would have had to leave all my stuff behind. I happen to need my stuff. My stuff consists of:

• Ice (because it's hot)
• Water(because weget thirsty)
• Camera (because that's what I do)
• Sunscreen (because I'm white and pasty and wish to remain so)
• Towels (because without them we'd stick to the vinyl car seats)
• Tupperware (for the shells and dead creatures)
• Trash bags (because WILL get wet)
• First Aid Kit (because Anemone will skinherentire body on the ocean floor)
• Extra eye glasses (because JellyManwill losehis in the surf)
• Yarn (because Ihave to knit something every few minutesor my fingers itch)
• Beach chairs (because my feet get tired and besides, it's really hard to knit while walking in sand)
• Picnic lunch (becausethe natives get restless)
• Trashy novels (because I'm on vacation, dammit. Stop judging me.)

And I used every last bit of it because of all those becauses. So it's a good thing we drove because The Man wasn't too happy about carrying all that stuff even from the parking lot. If I had asked him to carry it from the campsite he might have insisted we go to the beach asGod intended - with a hand towel and a bottle of water. Or he might have justpacked everything up and hupped us up to Charleston to spend the night in a hotel.

Crap. Iwish I hadthought of that earlier.

Anyway, my big lesson learned for this trip - aside from 1) make reservations a year beforeI thinkI might want to go camping and 2) remember to provoke The Man into taking me to a hotel -was to always reset your camera when you aredone using it. Because, you see, the high ISO setting you used when taking pictures of your niece at her first birthday party (I just hate flashing light at babies) does not work so well at thebeach, even at sunset. All of your pictures will look like this:

or this:

or like this:

You were really looking forward totaking pictures of your family frolicking on the beach at sunset, so when you see what you've done youwill want to smack yourself really hard in the face with that dead fish your dog brought you. You'll wail and gnash your teeth and cry, "Why, why, why?" as you repeatedly knock your head against a palm tree. You'll moan and groan and whine and fuss until you realize this might not be such a bad thing. After all, you'll never make the samemistake again, that grainy look is actually sort of cool, and besides, Anemone is pretty no matter what setting your camera is on.