Hanauma Bay

We haven't attended church services in quite some time, but I can't help feeling that sleeping through a beautiful Sunday morning is an affront to our Creator.  Everyone else in my family feels fairly certain that Jesus loves us even when we're sleeping, so it took some doing to roust them from their beds and hustle them to Hanauma Bay for some early morning (we arrived at 7:30) snorkeling.

It was worth it, don't you think?  I took this picture while we were waiting for the next showing of the lamest reef protection video ever made (all visitors have to see it, but residents only have to watch it once a year).  The Man and I, being the optimists that we are, hoped we'd finally learn how to properly pronounce the name of the bay - he says, "Ha-na-oo-ma" and I say, "Ha-now-ma."  Sadly, both pronunciations were used along with a third option: "Hoe-no-ma."  I hate it when our hopes are crushed like that. 

After the movie, we watched a mongoose snag his breakfast from a garbage can, hiked down the paved road to the beach, claimed a spot under this palm tree:

and commenced snorkeling.

I'm sure it will be better after we learn the layout of the reef, but yesterday was an ordeal.  We would start out together in open water, but all of a sudden we'd find ourselves separated in a maze of coral, and then, before we knew what hit us, we'd be in six inches of water above a large nest of sea urchins, wishing we hadn't eaten that big bowl of oatmeal for breakfast.  Plus the ocean was pretty rough, and even though the bay is very protected we kept getting pushed back to shore or sucked out to sea - only there were always big rocks in our way.  Ouch!  But break time (we make The Goobers take a breather and reapply sunscreen every 45 minutes or so) was just fabulous.

There were tons of fish, of course, and we're trying our best to learn to their scientific, common, and Hawaiian names.  It would be a lot easier if the fish would cooperate and hold still for us!  An underwater camera would be helpful, but it's just not in the budget right now.  (Hawaii is lovely, but it ain't cheap.)  If you like, you can check out the most commonly seen marine life at the Hawaii Coral Reef Network.

By 10:00 the bay was filling up fast.  We had to navigate the reef, avoid the strong currents, fight the wave action, and dodge the more aggressive of the Japanese tourists.  Chillax, Japanese tourists.  There is plenty to go around - you really don't have to run over the little white girl to see yet another sea cucumber.  They're here, there, and everywhere.

See that long snake of people coming down the hill?  That was our cue to gather up our stuff and run away.  There is a tram that will take you to the top for $1 a person, but The Squares think trams are for sissies.  Plus you can't take a bunch of pictures and stitch them into a Photoshop panorama if you ride the tram with the old ladies.

And you can't justify rewarding yourself with hot malasadas if you ride the stupid tram, either.  Oh, Hawaii.  You're pretty, but malasadas are ono-licious.

Tourist Information for Hanauma Bay

Parking:  $1

Admission:  $7.50 per person, fee waived for children under 13 and Hawaii residents (including active duty military and dependents with ID)

Tram:  $1 per person each way, or $2.50 per person for an all day pass.

Hours:  Winter: 6 to 6; closed Tuesdays; open til 10:00 p.m. on 2nd Saturday of each month
             Summer: 6 to 7; closed Tuesdays; open til 10:00 p.m. on 2nd & 4th Saturdays of each month

The parking lot was closed by the time we left - get there early on the weekends!

Lifeguard announcements are issued in English and Japanese.

Snorkeling equipment available for rent.

Kualoa Beach Park (or) We Might Look Like Homeschoolers

The best thing about homeschooling is that we can hit the beach while everybody else is at work.  Here we are at Kualoa Beach Park, over on the windward (east) side of Oahu.  (That uninhabited island is called Mokoli’i - also known as Chinaman’s Hat.)  See how we’re all alone?  And see how we’re digging rocks out of the sand to compare the seaweed growing on them and not playing frisbee or horseshoes or whatever?  Huh.  I think we might look like homeschoolers.

Oh, look over there.  Way over there.  Do you see that large family?  I think they might be homeschoolers, too.  They’re very polite. 

You can see in the next picture how rocky the bottom is here.  The Goobs had to wear water shoes to swim.  I use the term “swim” loosely; what they did was walk far, far, far away from shore, and when the water finally came to their thighs they squatted down and looked for cool rocks.  Then Anemone decided she didn’t want to break her ankle right before her ballet audition, so they came back in and looked for mole crabs on the beach.  They found one right away, and JellyMan took a picture of it with his nifty fish eye Lomography camera.  Wow.  He looks like a homeschooler to me.

And because this isn’t the first time we’ve come across the Emerita talpoida, I was treated to a mini-lecture on how mole crabs eat Portuguese man o’ wars.  Oh, yeah.  We’re homeschoolers.

After a few hours we decided to hit the road and find a beach with a little more sand and a little less rock.  (I’ve discovered that a damp okole is the cost of doing business here in Hawaii.)

Goobs:  “Mom!  You look like a storm trooper!  Hahahahhahaha!”

Actually, I think I might look like a homeschooler.  No matter.  We’re having a good time and learning about mole crabs.  That’s what counts, right?  Right?  Tell me I’m right.  Please.

After a lovely day of beachy fun (I’d love to show you more pictures, but The Man hasn’t yet come to terms with the fact that his baby girl is rocking a bikini top), we took the long way home and were treated to a fabulous sunset.  I kept making The Man pull over so I could take pictures.  He didn’t mind because he’s a homeschooler.  Homeschoolers stop.  Homeschoolers get out of the car.  Homeschoolers facilitate learning.

Homeschoolers look like dorks. 

Do you look like a homeschooler?  Enter the You Look Like a Homeschooler Contest at Smrt Lernins (you have until the 28th of February).  Be sure to tell her The Squares sent you. 

Orchids at Phipps Convservatory; Pittsburgh, PA

The Nina and the Pinta

I'm a sucker for history field trips, so I was really excited when my mom told me the reproductions of the Nina and the Pinta would be in the area during our stay.  I have to admit that I was more excited about the Nina and the Pinta than about the Ultimate West Virginian Wedding, or seeing my aged grandparents, or even lunch at Coleman's Fish Market.   Before we left South Carolina, I asked The Goobers what they remembered about Columbus.

JellyMan:  "Well, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella from Spain . . . (here he gleefully delved into the intricacies of fifteenth century global economy and trade routes) . . . blah, blah, blah, blah, blah . . ."

Me:  "Okay, JellyMan.  You get it.  I got it.  Moving on.  What about you, Anemone?"

Anemone:  "1492!  Ocean Blue!  Haiti!"

Okay, then.  I wanted The Goobs to be as fully informed as possible, so I told Anemone to read the Christopher Columbus sections in The Story of the World by Susan Wise-Bauer and Famous Men of Modern Times by John H. Haaren and A. B. Poland, and I told JellyMan to read chapter two of Lies My Teacher Told Me by James W. Loewen.  Well, you know how it is.  We got busier and busier as we neared our date of travel, and by the time we were packing our suitcases we had forgotten all about it.  No matter.  The books were there waiting for us when we got back.  

The weather wasn't the best, but the Steubenville Marina was still pretty enough.  For Steubenville, anyway.

I started to read this sign, but then my eyes glazed over.  I took a picture of it in case I wanted to read it later, but my eyes are still glazed over.  I like the buckeyes, though.   If anyone wants a better view of the sign describing the Ohio River Lock and Dam 10 Site, just click on it.  In fact, all the sign pictures are clickable if you feel like clicking something.

Which ship to see first?  We could start with the larger Pinta.  That's it there - the one crawling with field trip children.

Or we could start with the Nina.  That's the deserted ship over here:

Can you guess which ship we boarded first? 

That's correct!  We chose the Nina!  Here is Anemone on the Nina:

"1492!  Ocean Blue!  Haiti!"

I'm embarrassed to say that the most memorable piece of information we took away from the Nina was that it was small.  Really, really small.  

Okay, on to the Pinta!

You can click on this next sign if you want to, but it doesn't make a great deal of sense, even at magnification.

I like this picture of The Man and his boy.  The Man had obviously just said something totally old and lame and not worth the time of a thirteen year old, because JellyMan is wearing his "You just said something totally old and lame and not worth my time," face.  I think The Man must have suggested that JellyMan stay behind and volunteer to be on the crew.  (I was tempted to volunteer myself, but I didn't want to offend my aged grandparents.)

There is absolutely no reason for me to be showing you this picture:

Here are the Goobs after touring the Pinta and purchasing many useful items from the small gift shop.  JellyMan is telling me to pretty please hurry up, because he was promised a fish sandwich, darn it.  His stomach is thirteen years old, you know, and needs constant refills.

This was, perhaps, the absolute worst history field trip blog post EVER (I mean, I'm not even bothering with the tilde in Nina or telling you about the dinghy made by a fourteen year old ship builder's apprentice or anything!) and I apologize.  If you want to actually LEARN something about the reproductions of the Nina and the Pinta and the wonderful people involved, you can read all about it at thenina.com.  It is fascinating.  I want to be just like Miss Ellie when I grow up.

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, those rows of headstones drive the lesson home like nothing else. 

Plus, I 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.

Gettysburg, PA: Marsh Creek

The Goobs were in the creek within five minutes of parking at the campground.

They were soon out again, but only because they wanted their swimsuits.

If we’re not out on the battlefield, they’re in the creek.  They’ve been having a fantastic time, though JellyMan seems to fall down an awful lot.  (I think he must do it on purpose, but I just smile benignly and go back to my book and my peach iced tea with vodka.)

Other mothers have been giving me dirty looks because now THEIR children want to play in the creek.  I know how they feel.  Anything could be in that creek - parasites, fishing hooks, human waste, pesticide, leeches, water moccasins.  Yes, they’re right to be concerned.

They should get themselves some peach iced tea and put some vodka in it.  That’d calm ‘em down.