The Youngest Family Artist

Victoria thought Grandma Debbie needed a really cool birdhouse.




















Yep. That looks just right.

Around the world to see the Butter Cow

I invited my Australian friend Heather to visit Iowa on her driving tour of the United States. The promise of a chance to photograph a real butter cow for her travel blog www.hhukins.blogspot.com won her over and found her pushing her navigational pencil along the map in the direction of Des Moines, timing to coincide with the Iowa State Fair.

Heather is the daughter of my dear friend Geoff. Many of you have met him. Even more of you have heard stories about him. I invited Geoff and his Texan wife Patricia to join Heather when she visited Des Moines. The three of them arrived last weekend and I had a great time showing them the Iowa State Fair and Madison County.

Up-with-the-sun kinda morning girl that I am, I explained we'd need to get up early on Saturday to arrive with the first wave of what I was sure would be a record-breaking day of attendance---which would translate into long lines and hoards of people. Heather loves to document her travels with photos, often waiting for the perfect shot ---one which does NOT feature wandering tourists or, in this case, fair-goers. I knew morning would be her best shot at good pictures. I was right. When we arrived at the butter cow, the line was only two layers of people deep. I think she was able to get some clear shots, not only of this years butter cow but of the butter rendition of Harry Potter. She is a great fan of the books which perhaps leads her to a deeper and more meaningful understanding of a butter Harry Potter. Butter anything is ok with me. Mostly I like it on toast. I have to admit I found a butter Jesus just a little disturbing a few years back when Duffy Lyon immortalized the The Last Supper in butter, a rendition I'm sure Leonardo could not have envisioned in his worst nightmare, even if he had tried.

The animal barns are my favorite place to begin.




Who says you can't meet a really sweet guy at the Iowa State Fair???



















This little lady's sincere and steady gaze has convinced me: it's Cornish Hen for Thanksgiving this year.







Is this where Happy Meals come from????


Hey, all these kids are enjoying treats, it's time for us to find a snack too......how 'bout some ice cream??

Heather had never tried Dippin' Dots before.



After a detailed explanation of just exactly WHAT Dippin' Dots are from the nice and very well informed Dippin' Dots Official Spokesperson, she forked over a crisp five dollar bill for a small cup of them.





I think she liked them.


Her Dad and Patricia are lots of fun, too.


And they're really great sports.
We walked from one end of the fairgrounds to the other on a hot, sticky August day including a quick walk-through of the hilltop museum to watch films of the Amazing! And Historic! Train Wreck! Somewhere in the Cultural Building, around the hand-carved corncob pipes and moose-shaped walking sticks I managed to wander away from the group and become lost.

Properly re-located and tethered securely to the group once again, we continued on through the Cultural Building to see my Sara's entry in the art department.


Alot of the young people I work with had entries accepted this year as well, several of them prize-winners. (Congratulations Lonnie, nice job!!!!!!)

And back to the animal barns. Where everyone we visited seemed to be napping.

Except this guy with the natural curls.

Watching the livestock judging, one must note that these are indeed very, very clean sheep. Once the judging was over, it was clear that a sheep pretty much goes where it wants to go, thus it must be persuaded to move in a specific direction by a handler who has developed a special technique of making the sheep think it's all his own idea. I couldn't bring myself to photograph the technique as it could be considered, in circles of folks with odd tendencies, pornography. Ah-hem.





Leave it to say, the way to get a sheep to go where you want it to go is to tickle it's....er...fancy. Yup. Just remember, you read it here first.

















Fancy properly tickled, this little lady snuggled down into her bed of clean hay to enjoy the afterglow.

The next day we headed down the highway to Madison County.
Heather and Patricia and I are all great fans of the Robert Waller book. Geoff yawned alot, misbehaved in the car and redeemed himself by buying lunch at the counter where Clint Eastwood sat in the movie.









Madison County is a pretty place. And thanks to all the rain, it was beautifully green. Before leaving town, we stopped to pay homage to Madison County's favorite son. When in Winterset, one simply must have one's picture taken with John Wayne.


Even if he is cardboard.

I credit Geoff with introducing me to great wine and was quite delighted when he and Patricia came with a suitcase full of bottles. Heather, longing for a "taste of home" after several months in the United States, received a FedEx'd care package the day she arrived and was thrilled to find that it contained a couple of her favorite treats mailed by a friend from home.

She shared one of them with Sara and I, explaining that Australian children grow up enjoying the salty taste of Vegemite the way American kids enjoy peanut butter.

Exhibit A: A slice of all-American toast, spread with butter.

In the small measuring cup, a generous portion of Vegemite.

One spreads a thin layer of Vegemite over the buttered toast.
And taste!!!

Hmmmm. Interesting. Not bad, actually. I don't think the nice people at Jiff have anything to worry about, in my cupboard anyway. But I like trying new things.

And I love spending time with great friends, old and new. Thanks for coming, you guys. I had such a great time!

COMMERCIAL BREAK

And now we pause for just a moment to shamelessly solicit ohh's and ahh's over the latest picture of my adorable little granddaughter. Hi Victoria! Grandma can't wait to see you in a few days!!!

Good Times at the Jersey Shore

Spent some time in New Jersey last month.



Good times in Joisey?? Youz wants some good times in Joisey?
Fehgitaboutit.



Uh, no. Not that New Jersey.

Those of us that live in the Midwest find the misconceptions about our part of the country in the minds of us those who have never been here laughable.You know what I mean. Are there really CORN STALKS growing next to my driveway??? Uh well......actually......yeah, within spittin' distance. But I don't ride a tractor to work, don't own any livestock and I like sushi as much as I like pot roast and gravy.

New Jersey is a state that alot of us Midwesterner's misunderstand in similar fashion. Does everyone in NJ really live next door to Bruce Springsteen and hang out with the E-Street Band? Do people go about their daily business in fear of getting tossed into the river by Tony Soprano?? Name a place in New Jersey other than Atlantic City...............took you a minute, didn't it???

Try telling people you spent a week of hard-earned vacation in New Jersey and see how they react. But that's what I did and it was great.



This is the Walt Whitman Bridge. The drive from Philly airport to Stone Harbor, New Jersy starts with a trip across this bridge. It's an hour and some change along the tree-lined Garden State Parkway. Only my cousins will truly understand, but one can not make too many trips across the beautiful Walt Whitman TOLL Bridge.



Even the most skilled pilot and shot-gun navigators may find themselves, on occasion and despite the best of intentions, defying their internal compasses and contributing multiple tolls to the betterment of New Jersey road maintenance.

Once you finally make it across the bridge (for the last time)it's a green and beautiful drive. When you reach Egg Harbor you begin to see the salt marshes and brackish tidepools of the intercoastal waterway that lead to the Atlantic ocean.

The seven-mile island of the Cape May peninsula offers some of the cleanest, most pristine beaches I've ever seen. These are not tropical beaches such as those found further South. You won't find a palm tree anywhere in sight. Sea grasses line the beaches of Cape May, tall and graceful, the long slender leaves are simple,peaceful and calming in the way they react to the breeze.





It's a really pretty place.



After a hectic few weeks of travel for work, Stone Harbor was the perfect place to snuggle down into a beach chair and mindlessly lose myself in a great book and that's exactly what I intended to do.

I rented a little house in a tiny beach community.....


....full of neatly trimmed yards and blooming flowers.



I brought everything I needed: sunscreen, beach towel and classy straw hat.



And of course, you'll recognize the Achievement Badge of Middle Age, my ever-present pair of reading glasses.

So yes, the plan was to catch some sun, wiggle my toes in the sand and read. Great plan....until I invited a couple of my cousins to join me.



And they're so much fun,I never even opened the book.
Instead we wandered around the island acting goofy, eating ice cream.....



... and learning new stuff about New Jersey. We especially liked the salt-marsh tide pools.



All sorts of cool stuff lives there.
Little crabs, big crabs. Birds. Turtles. And if you know me at all, you know I big-time love me some turtles. In this case we're talking primarily about the Northern Diamondback Terrapin, a humble little turtle that went about it's business for hundreds of years, nesting in the dunes of the Atlantic barrier islands. As their sand-dune habitat has disappeared with the development of the coast, the little mama turtles have taken to nesting in the best spot they can find---which happens to be along the roadways of the island. Unfortunately, this has resulted in the untimely demise of hundreds and hundreds of turtles each year, most of them victims of car tires.

Efforts are in place to reduce the carnage.



Drivers are asked to keep an eye out because apparently turtles don't seem to be so worried about getting hit when they decide to cross the road.




You might even say they are fairly nonchalant about the whole thing. This little guys reaction to our screeching brakes was to stop and crane his neck to see what all the fuss was about.




Lucky for them, the residents of Cape May are not. There are fences along the roadways to protect them, viable eggs are collected from victims of unfortunate encounters with Mr. Goodyear for incubation and school children hold fundraisers to help fund the turtle nurseries.



I'm not much for tourist junk, but I am proud to have joined the keychain-carryin' I Brake for Turtles brigade.



Our final morning we went to the beach early and spotted a large pod of dolphins feeding just a few dozen yards off the shore. Sailors say that it is lucky to see a dolphin in the morning.



I think it's lucky when you get to spend time with your cousins.


Better than books on the beach any time.