Spin

I raise the issue of “spin” for two reasons: First, I’m writing this on the first of four nights we’ll be spending at “The Woods RV Park and Campground” in Montgomery, Alabama; second, over the past two days we’ve spent a little time at “The World of Coke” and the “Tuskegee Airmen National Historic Site.”

1. The Woods: As I sit here in “The Woods,” just a hundred or so feet from “the lake” (a VERY small man-made fishing pond), the sounds of nature abound. For instance, there are the natural sounds of Interstate 65, pulsing with traffic literally one block away, similar to the natural sounds of highway 80 which is just a couple hundred yards away in another direction. Obviously there’s a busy hospital not far up the road, as ambulances with sirens wailing have been going by every 30 or so minutes all evening. To find “The Woods” you exit I-65, go one block east on highway 80, then turn right onto a road/driveway inserted between an Arby’s and a gas station adjacent to a Popeye’s chicken restaurant. As you enter “The Woods,” you see an office building in front of a large, completely cleared field that's surrounded by a thin stand of trees on all sides. The field contains maybe 100 water/electric/sewer hook-ups, each next to a nice, level, gravel RV site. Because the kids were there when we checked in, we were given a site near the playground—a sun-bleached kiddie-play area with a couple of small slides and a tiny playhouse/fort. With the rides and excitement of Disney still ringing in their ears, the play area wasn’t enough to even draw the kids over for a look. So instead we made a fire in the tire-rim-fire-pit and we poked sticks into it—cooking our “hobo packs” for dinner on the coals as we poked—listening to the traffic whiz by, the sirens wail, and, oh…have I mentioned the train? It’s a few blocks away in yet another direction, and the whistle blows with enthusiasm at some nearby crossing. Whenever a siren or loud truck sound would draw our eyes up from the fire we’d see the beautiful view from “The Woods”—a view I’ve captured and tried to convey, in all its wonder, in the picture below. True moment: About halfway through watching our dinner cook on the fire Kerby looked at me and said with sincerity, “I LOVE this campground!” “You do?” I said, thinking he may be kidding. He wasn’t: “I like that if we want we can just walk right over to Popeye’s or Pizza Hut or McDonald’s or Wendy’s or Arby’s!” he said, pointing at each. “And the Popeye’s chicken smells really good. Can we get some tomorrow?”

How did we wind up here? you might ask (though if you’ve been reading earlier entries you know we’re mostly using the force as we make our travel reservations). Aside from it being very well located for our planned tourist attacks, here’s what we knew about the place from The Woods’ website:

"Is it time for you and your family to take that vacation you've been planning for so long? Are you ready to get away from the hustle and bustle of your stressful work schedule? If so, visit us at The Woods RV Park & Campground LLC, where you can relax and leave all of your worries behind! We understand the value of a well-earned vacation. That's why we do our best to help you get the most out of your vacation. We do this by maintaining our campground to perfection and offering a wide array of campground utilities. We believe that our customers should be able to relax in the cleanest environment possible. In addition, our RV park provides an excellent area to make your stay enjoyable. Whether you want to relax and enjoy the benefits of modern technology or want to feel completely in nature, The Woods RV Park & Campground LLC has what you're looking for!"

Now THAT’S spin. My favorite line is “…or want to feel completely in nature.” The only way I can think of that you could feel completely in nature here would be to lay at the bottom of the pond with your eyes closed, though I’m pretty sure you’d still be able to hear the train and probably the traffic under the water. In truth, this is a fine place for a stopover if you've got a big RV and you're going somewhere else, but it's a real stretch of the imagination to see this as a naturalist's vacation destination.

2. The World of Coke and Tuskegee: With Atlanta’s Stone Mountain mostly closed yesterday, we opted to head into downtown Atlanta for a tour of “The World of Coke.” We paid our $50 for tickets and proceeded to immerse ourselves in a truly impressive multi-hour live commercial for Coca Cola, including spending considerable time tasting beverages from around the world. (Turns out I’m partial to the Asian beverages, though the British version of Sprite was quite tasty.) The kids had a good time seeing all the old Coke memorabilia and hearing the story of Coke and watching the 4-D movie about Coke’s secret formula and just generally developing a personal commitment to a bazillion-dollar beverage that makes you belch like a cow and can dissolve 16-penny nails. As we left, buzzing with sugar and caffeine from all the taste-testing, I did indeed feel like we’d been spun. And we paid for it, too. We paid to hear how Coke has changed the world and how it’s a part of our lives and how it makes our memories special and how its invention was on par (at least) with the discovery of electricity and the polio vaccine and sliced bread and the moon landing. Then today we went by a far less impressive exhibit—the Tuskegee Airmen Historical Site—and saw a much shorter film that didn’t require 3-D glasses and didn’t make our chairs shake, and we read some interesting information about a group of what my kids persist in calling brown people who in many cases gave their lives in service to their country. People who were the first ever African-Americans to serve as pilots and communications officers and bombardiers, and who became a crucial part of our nation’s effort to defeat Nazi Germany during WWII. People who broke barriers and created opportunities, and who came home decorated war heroes only to face continued racism and discrimination and even lynching. Coke knows how to put on a show. The Tuskegee historical site was fine but it was no World of Coke. But, of course, spin isn’t everything. “The real thing?” Personally, I appreciate a good glass of Spite, but after seeing both of these sights I’ve got to go with the Tuskegee Airmen as being the real thing. No spin required.

And so with a few minutes on my hands, I found myself sitting here thinking about spin tonight after everyone had gone off to bed. Thinking about how with some spinning-creativity we can make sweetened bubble water an icon and perhaps the most recognized product in the world. About how spin can make a few acres of gravel a block off the interstate in a rough part of town sound like a blissful, wooded, tree-filled state park. About how little time, attention, and spin we find being devoted to people who gave Lincoln’s “last full measure” in service to their country. And about how it turns out their service wasn’t entirely in shooting down enemy planes, but also in setting precedents that fostered the ongoing change in our country that now, decades later, has allowed Nan and me to have two beautiful brown children who are here a few feet away, sleeping peacefully despite the fact that I can literally, as I type this, clearly hear the highway traffic, a siren, and a train whistle all simultaneously…in The Woods.

Potentially but Probably Not Poisonous Peanuts (Friday, 1/22)

We were under orders to buy some boiled peanuts. The one who gave us the orders even gave us a little cash to support our peanut-buying efforts. So today, as we drove along, Nan said “Be sure you stop somewhere so we can buy boiled peanuts.” The first few places we saw offering boiled peanuts were on the wrong side of a busy road and/or had no space for us to park our combination wheels. But then I spotted a place on our side of a quiet stretch of road somewhere near Live Oak, Florida, with an easy place to pull over and park. So I stopped and we met Andy. Andy’s house is set back maybe 20 feet from this stretch of two-lane highway, and he’s making good use of that convenient location by turning the whole thing into a make-shift business. Yes, he sells boiled peanuts, both regular and Cajun flavored. But he also sells a range of other things including small stacks of firewood, tomatoes, potted plants, pecans, and additional items in nondescript containers that I couldn’t readily identify. Andy is a delightful guy, quickly inviting the four of us in to see his peanut boilers, showing us the jugs in which he prepares his own personal peanut-flavoring recipes, and explaining in detail the multi-boiling process he uses to make the peanuts just right. I’ll admit I didn’t pay close enough to all the details to be able to recount here the entire process, but Nan and I both clearly recall him mentioning rinsing the peanuts in “brown water.” Why we didn’t question what he meant by that as we ate through our free sample of peanuts I’m not certain, but I will say hearing those few words instantly put the whole peanut-process into a different light for me. Standing there in a cluttered old attached-garage space that contained everything from a collection of railroad spikes to several aging refrigerators to piles of old moving-blankets to pictures of family members to peanut boilers, it struck me that the health department doesn’t likely spend a lot of time inspecting the local personal-peanut-boiler industry. Obviously, the nuts are boiled several times, so there’s some comfort for us peanut-eaters in that, but boiled in what? With what additives? Just what might one put into one’s “own special recipe” of flavors or what might constitute “brown water”?

Don’t get me wrong here. I’ll again say that Andy was a delightful guy, and we’ve eaten quite a few of the boiled peanuts we bought from him with no apparent ill effects. (Nan’s been our biggest boiled-peanut eater, with a particular love for the Cajun nuts. The rest of us haven’t been able to fully convince ourselves that peanuts are supposed to be so soft in texture, even if they do taste good, so we’ve been eating them at a slower rate.) But when you buy food along the roadside, you’re taking a unique leap of faith. In this case, you’re trusting that the peanut-boiler knows what he’s doing. That his own special recipe contains normal food ingredients and not strange chemicals, eye of newt, or parts of his annoying dog Mange who’s been missing since last summer. That he’s just plain a guy selling something he’s proud of to people he hopes will enjoy it. So far, none of us is any the worse for wear after eating our boiled peanuts, and we were happy to support Andy in his efforts to make a living. He makes some very nice regular boiled peanuts, some powerfully spicy Cajun style nuts (my eyes are still watering), and some interesting conversation when he’s showing you how he does it. We only wish we’d have added a stack of his firewood to our purchases, as we arrived at a new campground this afternoon to find they’re completely out of firewood and we aren’t supposed to gather our own.

So anyway, today we tried boiled peanuts and we supported a fine small businessman. We’d like to thank Andy for his nuts, Kristi for the boiled encouragement and raw support, and the Florida board of health for minding their own business. It was tasty, educational, and gave us more than a few chuckles as we rode along in the car eating our peanuts and wondering what kinds of symptoms one might look for in cases of peanut poisoning and what, exactly, might be involved in “brown-water rinsing.” …This may be one of those situations where you’re better off not asking questions, and in that spirit, maybe the next time we buy something along the roadside we should skip the tour, say “thanks,” and just be on our way.

Nuts to all of you!

Canoes, Don Ibus, and Where We Go From Here (Thursday, 1/21)

It’s been an interesting week in our little camper, out on the edge of the ocean. We left Chokoloskee, Florida, on Tuesday, after spending Monday paddling two rented canoes with the kind of devotion usually found in Olympic hopefuls. Our canoeing excursion started with a chat with the rangers at Everglades National Park, after which we went downstairs and rented two canoes, one for me and Joelle, the other for Nan and Kerby. A look at the tidal charts showed the tide coming in around 4:30, and there was a light breeze blowing. With this in mind, we opted for what was described as the more leisurely route. Leaving the park headquarters on the Gulf coast, we paddled around a point, under a bridge, and across a lake before heading into a channel that eventually became a beautiful mangrove tunnel. As the sky disappeared overhead in a ceiling of branches, one’s thoughts turned to the wonder of creation and the reports of 24-foot reticulated pythons in the area, the latter easily ignored as rumors until passing through a web of overhead mangrove branches. Just the same, we maintained our courage and paddled on, eventually turning around and heading back toward the park headquarters. Right away we noticed that the wind had picked up considerably, blowing directly up the channel and in our faces. This presented a small challenge in the channel, and a big challenge as we headed back across the lake. Moving a foot for every three or four strokes on the open water, it was slow going…until we got closer to the bridge and saw that the combination of wind in our faces and tide coming in---squeezing through the gaps between the bridge pilings---had literally become rushing whitewater moving directly at us. Paddling turned from intense to preposterous, as a small but appreciative crowd (appreciating it was us and not them in the canoes) watched us struggle to inch our way to, then under, then past the bridge. Moving a foot for every twenty strokes, we paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled—slowly oozing through and YES! We made it! Of course, that just got us back to the gulf coast, meaning we had to fight the full force of the wind around the point to the park, doing all we could to keep from being blown into the rocks and trees along the shoreline. When we reached the park headquarters and flopped out of the canoes onto the shore, the guy who rented us the canoes asked if we’d seen him among the crowd members on the bridge. We hadn’t noticed, which isn’t surprising since it’s hard to make out faces in a crowd when you’re sweating like a pig and paddling for your lives. He said he drove over just to see if we’d make it through. He said they have to go and bring back a lot of people by boat. I said, “You could have come and gotten us in a boat? Why didn’t you mention that before we left?” He just smiled. It seems the locals have their ways of enjoying the tourists…

Anyway, we lived, and once we could move our arms again we decided it was time to say goodbye to our friends at Chokoloskee Island RV Park and Marina. We took a couple of interesting detours along our four-hour drive from Chokoloskee to the Homosassa Springs area where we’re currently camping, turning four driving hours into seven with surprisingly little arguing along the way. The campground here is decent, with armadillos making their way along in the woods just a few feet away, though the crowd (of campers) isn’t as friendly as we’ve experienced in our last few stays. The confederate flags hanging at several of the sites and on some nearby homes might be enough to make a Minnesota Yankee with two children of color wonder if he and his family are entirely welcome here, but so far people have been polite if distant. We spent yesterday at the local state park seeing manatees and bears and birds galore. All over down here you see Ibis birds—so many that after a while you quit looking. At some point, because I couldn’t help myself I started calling them Don Ibus birds just to be annoying, a tactic that seems to be working on Nan who’s taken to heavy sighing and eye rolling whenever I mention seeing some.

The most impressive event thus far on our trip was today’s swimming with the manatees. We donned wet-suits and snorkels, took a boat ride up the river and on into the Homosassa Springs where the water is (sort of) warm, and had a truly surreal time. Some of the manatees literally swim right up and look you in your mask, no doubt wondering what odd sort of creature this is with its strange colors, flat face, and periscope-snout that sticks up out of the water. We scratched bellies and touched noses and had an amazing time I’m sure none of us will ever forget. We were especially glad the local alligator population chose not to join us. “Ahh, we don’t worry much about gators around here” the lady at the rental place said. “That’s probably because you stay in the boat” I said. She just smiled. Just like our boat “captain,” who said they don’t see gators in the springs very often, and smiled. I suspect the locals here also have their ways of enjoying the tourists. (As long as the gators aren’t enjoying us, I’m fine with that…) I carried a disposable under-water camera and took some pictures. Not sure if they’ll turn out—and they involve actual film development (remember that?) so it’ll be a while before we can post anything.

We’re moving on tomorrow, heading first (tune-stuck-in-head alert) “way down upon the Suwannee River” for two nights before heading up to Atlanta for a few days with Nan’s sister and family. We’ve been slower getting out of Florida than we expected, but truth is, there’s a lot to see down here and we could easily stay longer. (Nan actually suggested we spend the rest of our time in Chokoloskee, but I told her she’d have to wait until we retire to hang with the snowbirds.) We haven’t really done the Florida beaches, and there’s much more to do in general, but we’re ready to continue the adventure and mosey along. We’re looking forward to a few days in Atlanta with family before we head west.

(Yes, I forgot to put a headline on it again before I downloaded the picture box... Pretend not to notice.)

Week One Photos At Last

It's taken me two hours of sitting here deleting things and adding things and waiting waiting waiting, but I finally got the pictures from our first week to show up online. I forgot to put a heading on it again, but I'd have to recreate it to add a heading...and after all this I'm not about to start over again. (I'll try and do better in the future. Really I will.) As I've been working, the rest of the crew has fallen asleep, with Kerby over there talking and even occasionally singing in his sleep, and Joelle, who hasn't felt especially well today, snoring quietly to herself. Nan gave it up an hour ago. To avoid additional lumps on my head I'll encourage you to picture her sleeping the way women always did in the old black-and-white movies--sitting up just a little among her white satin sheets in full hair and make-up, not moving or making a sound, peacefully passing the night away in restful slumber. Soon she'll be stuck next to me, who'll be tossing and turning in fleece sheets, with no hair or make up, making occasional rude noises as I pass something away hoping for at least a few hours sawing lumber. Or something like that...

By the way, in case you haven't figured out these little photo-boxes, clicking on the lower right in the black/gray allows you to view them full-screen. You'll likely need to place your cursor over the arrow and click rather than use your arrow buttons to move through them. And you just hit esc when you're done. There's one inside the camper (cleanliness is next to...non-existent), one of our moose-mascot, a few from chilly Charleston, one from Savannah, a few from St. Augustine (including one out of order toward the end), and a few from our campsite in Orlando. Sorry these took so long...

Sweet dreams!

Greetings from Club Fred (and Ethel)

Before we set out on our happy little voyage, we decided we’d just wing it and make camping reservations as we went along. That means living with some uncertainty as we pick places to stay, but hey—this is an adventure. So far we’ve had some very nice parks, a very nice house, and a Motel 6. Then we arrived at “The Heart of the Everglades”—Chokoloskee Island Park and Marina. Definitely a unique camping experience for all of us. (Pulling in I noticed a pickup with a bumper sticker that reads "Chokoloskee Island Park and Marina -- A Drinking Community with a Fishing Problem.") A combination of closely situated mobile homes and large RV’s, this is a hotbed of senior snowbirds who spend 4-6 months a year here hanging out, fishing, and…“cavorting” well into the early evening hours. For example, last night, one feller seemed to get a charge out of scaring a few of the ladies who were chatting away in the dark, and when he’d jump out and shout “boo” he’d elicit a blue-streak from one lady that would make a marine take notes. Each time, after the laughter and cursing died down on went the chatting. We’re crammed in here like sardines, with each camper/mobile home maybe 6 feet on either side from the next, so it wasn’t hard to follow their conversation. My favorite moment was when a couple of the ladies started loudly saying “PAR-TEE, PAR-TEE!” You’ve got to admire that kind of enthusiasm before 8pm.

With that introduction, it may surprise you to hear that I just went over to the office and asked to extend our stay a couple of nights. Rather than three nights, we’re going to stay five. While they may be a loud group at night, they’re a very friendly group during the day. We’ve had a bunch of fun conversations so far, talking with people from Montana and Michigan and Ontario and New Jersey and Florida... The couple from Germany on the site next to us is especially interesting. They sat in lawn chairs just a few feet away as we backed in and set up, narrating in German about our progress, and he’s sitting in the same lawn chair literally looking at me now as I type. Their home-on-wheels is a self-refurbished 45+-year-old truck that used to be an ambulance. For years they’ve been shipping it from continent to continent as they travel the world. In it they’ve been through Europe, Africa, South America, Central America, and now much of North America. It seems they’re retired and just plain love to travel. In talking about the US, they said they’ve been impressed with the diversity and beauty they’ve found, but they’ve also been disappointed to find that some of the European stereotypes of Americans seem to be true. Things like we’re loud, we watch endless TV that’s worthless and full of commercials, and we’re self-centered and don’t know or care much about the rest of the world… I wanted to shout at her that she was wrong, but it was time for Law & Order and I didn’t want to miss it. Plus, who cares what foreign people think of Americans?

But seriously, folks. It’s hard to argue with them. We really do watch a lot of bad TV that’s filled with commercials, and as the welcome-wagon demonstrated here, we really are quite loud. When Nan and I were in Ireland a number of years ago we were surprised at how easy it was to identify Americans. So many of us really ARE loud and all but announce ourselves as we enter public places. “Look at me! I’m here!” And most of us don’t tend to know or care much about the rest of the world. Hopefully Kerby and Joelle were listening to and learning from the conversation as we talked, but it’s hard to tell… I will say—the guy has taken some amazing pictures as they’ve traveled. I hope we get even a few that are as good.

So we’re hanging in the “Heart of the Everglades,” squeezed into what seems to be a nice little community of mostly fishing/boating people who clearly enjoy themselves and are glad to be here. As I type, it’s exactly 80 degrees, the sun is shining through the palm trees, and there’s a beautiful breeze blowing through. THIS is what we expected when we headed to Florida nearly two weeks ago! Over the next few days, we’re going looking for alligators and other wildlife, seeing what we can see.

And finally, we’re definitely keeping a close eye on the catastrophe in Haiti. From our short time there, it’s easy to see how an earthquake would shake down so many of the buildings and create so much harm. We’ve heard that New Life Link (the orphanage where Joelle was living) is Ok and Kerby’s family appears to be Ok as well, so that’s good news. Keep the area in your prayers and if you find an opportunity to help, please do….

Mousificationism

I work at being an academic for a living, and by default that means I’m supposed to have an abiding opposition bordering on contempt toward Disney. Over the years I’ve heard Disney described with the worst of scholarly epithets—capitalistic, misogynistic, hegemonic, racist, even fascist. (Translation for people who prefer words with fewer syllables: Disney’s really bad!) For example, a recent scholarly presentation I attended suggested Disney may have been the cause of the materialistic imagery and thinking that’s at the foundation of our culture’s problems. And this view isn’t unusual by any means. Targeting Disney in academic presentations has become commonplace over the years. So much so, it seems to me it’s gotten too easy—like smart people aiming big guns at large metaphoric fish in a small philosophical barrel. (Sorry—I’m tired and clearly struggling with a case of multi-syllablism tonight.) Whatever it is that’s wrong with our world, Disney did it, is related to it, supported it, or is at least neutral on it and should have taken a different stance. So goes the talk in many academic circles.

But as I’ve said before, in a lot of ways I make a lousy academic. And after a couple days strolling the Magic Kingdom and EPCOT, I left feeling the same way I did five years ago when we visited with our then 3- and 4-year-old kids: Like I wanted to stay a lot longer. Or maybe move there and make a living doing my Mickey Mouse impression. (Don’t worry Lindsey and Sue—No job offers from Mickey, and don’t worry Nan—No date offers from Minnie despite our lengthy hug.) I know, I’m cheesy and a dork, but once again we had a great time and could have stayed for many more days. Yes, the tickets, food, and junk in the gift shops are way over priced (I practically needed to sell a kidney to pay for our two days). Yes, there are stereotypes galore, and yes, there’s an odd obsession with romantic narratives in their kid-based movies and TV shows. (And where are the parents in most Disney stories?) Still, when we visit the Disney parks there’s just plain something that makes us happy to be there and leaves us wishing for more.

Walking around the gift shop before we headed out, we felt the urge to buy some of that overpriced junk to commemorate our visit. I’m reading a book titled “Coop” by Michael Perry at the moment, and in it he has a great line about his young daughter wanting to buy something that clashed with his academic convictions: “Sometimes all the academic feminism in the world can’t compete with a chintzy tiara.” Amen. (I “coop” on all these academic naysayers!) In our case rather than a tiara we’re talking about a mouse-eared pancake cutter (we’ll be eating mouse-head-shaped pancakes around our camper for the next few months), a key chain, and a couple of drinking cups, but clearly I share his sentiment.

Alas, our wonderful time with the giant mouse notwithstanding, it’s time to move on. Orlando has been great fun over the past week or so. We’ve so much appreciated the hosting and support from the Williams family who’ve graciously tolerated our comings and goings on some cold nights. We had a very inspiring, interesting, and cold visit to the Kennedy Space Center, and after that visit and all the space-based rides at Disney, the kids are considering careers as astronauts while I’m just going to continue being my usual space-cadet self. (Disney Travel Tip: When visiting EPCOT, we highly recommend you choose the orange—or more-challenging—side of the “Mission: Space” ride. Assuming you want to throw up afterward. Definitely a family memory made there despite the fact that no one actually followed through and barfed.) The weather has been bizarre, but we’ve enjoyed ourselves just the same. Things promise to warm up now—no doubt going to record high temps next week in effort to fry rather than freeze us—but onward we go!
“OH BOY!”…a few pictures just for fun. Sorry I forgot to put a headline on it. Have some fun and make up your own!

(P.S. I still can't get the pictures from the Week 1 entry to load. Not sure what the problem is. I'll try again in the next few days if we have wifi...)

Some moments of insight from our first week:

1. Small things, like say the crank handle we use to raise and lower the top of the camper, are especially appreciated after they’ve been lost. Fortunately we figured out it was missing from “that uneasy feeling” rather than while trying to set up in the near-dark somewhere, and we’re quite glad Suncoast RV in Jacksonville, FL, had a replacement for $10. It’s not as good as the one we lost, but it’ll keep our top going up and down.

2. Sometimes the better part of valor is wimping out and getting a motel room. (With only one night planned for Savannah, GA, it seemed silly to set up camp and deal with a record low of 21 degrees…) Thanks to the good people at Motel 6 for leaving the light (and the heat) on for us.

3. A GPS is remarkably helpful—and creepy. Inflexible Ingrid (we got a new GPS for Christmas and retired Condescending Connie) is weirdly omniscient about where we are, where we’re going, and how I’m driving. But she insists on our staying the course, and she never tires of telling me to turn around when I’m taking a detour. We turn her volume way down, but I can still faintly hear her sincere voice nagging away saying “Turn right then turn right…” “Turn right then turn right…” “Turn right then turn right…” as I approach each intersection.

4. A home-cooked meal with usually far-away family can turn around a long grumpy day of traveling in short order. A thousand thanks to Alex, Emma, and the boys for good food and warm company.

5. In our teen years we’re supposed to outgrow the idea that we’re the center of the universe. Just the same, it’s hard to see it as pure coincidence that everywhere we go experiences hundred-year low temps upon our arrival. We’re hoping our presence in Florida doesn’t raise produce prices too drastically for the rest of you… (I will say, though—it’s nice that “record low” in Florida isn’t as cold as “record low” farther north.)

At the start of our travels we were rushing more than we’d have liked, but that’s changed with our arrival in Orlando. We’re here at least a week, maybe longer if we choose, with time to visit with friends (thanks to the Williams family for their wonderful hospitality and the chance to catch up, with more to come!), hang with the giant mouse (Oh Boy!), and see whatever other sights we want to see. We’ve definitely learned that staying just one night anywhere is too short a time for us to see much of anything. We’ll be keeping our stays at least a few days long as we go, making sure we have time to see whatever floats our boats before we move on.

As to the cold, the good news is that it’s led to our being virtually bug-free here in Florida—also an unusual occurrence. But no bugs doesn’t mean not being bugged. The raccoons in our Bill Frederick’s Park at Turkey Lake campsite are so relaxed that they’d climb right in the camper to check out the pickings if you’d let them. We’ve opted not to do so, despite missing our pets. (The kids tried to argue that they’re about the same size as Bonkers the cat, but I assured them they’re no more tame than he is, so letting them in would be a bad idea.)

The kids have gotten lots of good school work done, and for the benefit of readers who happen to be my boss, I’ve gotten some good writing-work done as well. There’s another family here in the campground with homeschooled older kids—all told they’ve homeschooled ELEVEN kids all the way through, and they’re down to the last three finishing high school. Eleven? That’s a whole lot of kids… We’ve got all we can handle with just our two. Anyway, our first couple of days here we’ve just been enjoying Turkey Lake and its fruit trees (yes, you’re allowed to pick and eat the oranges, tangerines, lemons, limes…), animal farm, playground, and freezing cold bath-house (motto: Bring your courage or you don’t go at all). Tomorrow we may head over near Cape Canaveral to see space—the final frontier, with Disney and much more still to come.

I tried to download some pictures, but it told me it was going to take 6 hours to finish downloading them...so you'll just have to imagine us having lots of fun until I can figure out how to make it work a little faster.

Admiral Peary's North Pole Expedition Log: Day 1

Or so it feels... It’s a balmy 24 degrees outside at the moment here in Charleston, SC, and our little heater is doing its best impression of the little engine that could, puffing away trying to heat our tiny canvas home against the cold. We’re the only people in the campground in anything that isn’t hard-sided and well warmed, which says something good about the common sense of the vast majority of campers. But what we lack in sense we make up for in heartiness, so we’re not about to let a little cold stop our trip. We arrived at the James Island County campground around 4:30 and got ourselves set up and the heat on in less than an hour. We’re not doing water tonight, as I’m afraid we'll freeze pipes…and that wouldn’t make for a good start to our travels. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

This campground was recommended to us by camping friends Tom and Dolly who were here a couple of weeks ago (in a hard-sided rig), and they mentioned something about a Christmas lights show going on through early January. We just came back from the three mile light tour (unlike Gilligan, who never came back from a three-hour tour) that runs throughout the park, and it was amazing. Endless light exhibits that cover everything from dinosaurs to space, with plenty of traditional Christmas themes as well. They play Christmas music on an AM frequency as you tour the park, and the music, the lights, and the cold temps combined to make it truly feel like a January winter night. (Shooting from a moving car doesn’t make the best pictures, but here’s something so you get the idea…)

Leaving home this morning was quite stressful, but it happened within about 45 minutes of our projected hit-the-road time, so not bad all things considered. It was around 20 degrees when we got up (like when we're going to bed). That made getting things loaded trickier than we’d hoped, but we crammed it all in just the same. Aside from leaving some food in the fridge that we’d hoped to eat tonight, we seem to have what we planned to have and to have left what we planned to leave. We bucked a nasty headwind most of the way down (I can’t remember who it was that made a joke about us facing a nasty headwind when we hit the road, but whoever it was, thanks a lot!) which made driving more of an adventure than I’d have preferred and reduced our gas mileage to under 12mpg. I wasn’t expecting much better than that overall, but I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised.

The kids kept themselves occupied throughout the long day, Nan read a book that will no doubt lead to another purging of all things pesticide-treated and/or non-organic from our diet, and I worked to keep us on the road despite the wind’s best efforts to the contrary--and our little Johnson Family expedition is off and running. According to the forecast, it’s going to be cold for three more nights after this one before warming up considerably, so we’re working hard now to keep our attitudes positive and our long johns hiked up...

And leaving you with that probably disturbing mental image, I’ll head off to crawl into a cozy bed of a half dozen fleece blankets as I listen to our heater chant "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...".

Having fun now!