Ordinary Times and Travels: Airstream, post 8

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At the dealership – sight love.

Both my daughters are risk takers and dream followers, not every day in every way, but when it matters. It mattered recently that new life be given to an old dream, which is how youngest daughter, Esther, became owner of a 1972 Airstream. To be clear, it’s 27 feet of aluminum, pull behind, live in trailer with softly rounded corners for streamline movement. You all know what I’m talking about.

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Where do we get notions like this? How do these dreams come about? We don’t always know, but when they’ve been around in our thoughts for years it becomes exciting to move on them, finally. Esther found Sylvia Path (subsequently named) at a dealership. They wanted to try out all the systems and appliances before she took possession, and part of her contract was ongoing help, coaching, should she need it. The dealer agreed to deliver her purchase to her when everything was checked out. She sent the cushions and mattress to an upholsterer – the first of several planned upgrades.

Having an Airstream in your backyard is kind of a trendy thing in many parts of the country (usually where it is warm enough to winter over in one).  Many people don’t travel with them. They use them for an extra room, or rent the space for extra income. Many people just like to restore a beautiful piece of equipment for the joy of doing it. Esther wants to do all of these, but first, the challenge of where to put it and the actual move.

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Yeah, this is where it has to go and there are some big rocks here…

Esther assured me she had talked with the dealership about her plan to park the Airstream in her driveway.  They had assured her it was possible in a “no problem” kind of way that guys often rely on. I wasn’t so sure, but I’m only an interested observer.  There were a couple of delivery dates that got rescheduled and with each one, we began to get more anxious about the steep hills, narrow streets and small final destination.  An ornamental tree had been cut to clear the way.  In her mind’s eye, the Airstream was neatly parked against her fence with the door and canopy opening out on the cement drive, herself sitting inside writing her first memoir, a best seller.

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You’re kidding, right?

On the Monday after Christmas, we finally saw Sylvia coming down the street behind a pick-up truck and ran out to greet her. But as we found out, the men delivering her had either not understood, or not believed Esther’s description. Turns out, they can’t really put it anywhere you want it, only where they can drive it with the truck. Backing in was the only option. Here is how it went –  on the second try. (click link for 3 minute YouTube video)

The mind’s eye is the perfect place for a re-do. What you thought would happen can get changed to what actually happened with a minimum of cost and energy. The rest of the delivery process went smoothly as the trailer was leveled, electricity was connected, and the propane heater demonstration successfully concluded.

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Obviously, there is no door on this side.

My first contribution to Sylvia was to remove the lavender bush we were trampling to get to the door, and place some stepping stones to keep us out of the mud.  Esther is going to save pictures of the inside for the before/after shoots, because there is work to be done. It may be a while before the completion, but the dream has begun, and that’s what counts.

 

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To be continued (but do not hold your breath).

Ordinary Times and Travels: St. Marks Cathedral

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We traveled to Capital Hill to St. Marks and experienced this.

This was exactly as described, “quiet night and perfect end”. Esther and I entered the cathedral almost half an hour before the appointed time, but it was already nearly full. We went up to the front and put our blankets on the floor, using the short wall as our back rest. Esther said this was prime seating. In spite of the crowd, the sanctuary was quiet and dark, except for the candles lighting each row and the altar area. We saw the singers assembling.

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The music was old, historic, mysterious, haunting at times, joyful at times, sacred in quality. There are very few opportunities to appreciate the beauty of the chant, of harmonies in a building so acoustically perfect. Part of the experience is being surrounded by others who are also curious, amazed, calmed and blessed by the words and songs.

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pipe organ, back of church

Much of the music was acapella. Occasionally handbells joined the singing. And at the end of the half hour, the pipe organ began to enrich the empty places with tangible layers of sound.

With the departure of the chorus most people filed out quietly, but the organ continued to play. The complexity of the sound demanded that we get a closer look, and there did seem to be people in the organ loft. We found the stair and joined a small group watching the organist. This virtuoso was a young man in plaid flannel, whose fingers flew over the four levels of keys, and whose feet were all but running over the foot pedals. At the finish he stood and bowed slightly, seeming almost embarrassed to be watched.

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not what I was expecting, talent in flannel

I now love the word compline, for its meaning and for the memory of this experience. St. Marks Episcopal Cathedral, Capital Hill, Seattle, WA. You will not be disappointed.

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front of sanctuary

Ordinary Times and Travels: Christmas in Seattle, post 3

My first day in Seattle was not rainy, not snowy, not even terribly cold.  The sun shone and Charlie and I took an afternoon walk on Alki Ave. and on a couple stairways up the bluff.  It was a whole different view from our highest point because there were no leaves on the trees. Puget Sound was beautiful and the Olympic mountains across the way were snow capped and rugged. It was not one of our longest walks but good for the first day.

Probably the most interesting thing of the day was a gift from youngest daughter. She gave me an electric jacket. Sounds dangerous? Apparently not. It is a carefully constructed down jacket with strategically placed heated areas. There is a lithium battery which gets connected to a wire in an inside pocket in the back.

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My heated jacket, with battery (oh, and Charlie).

You can turn it on three different heat settings with a switch located inside the front opening. If it’s 35 degrees outside and you have the jacket on low setting, it will keep you toasty warm for six hours.

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On/Off switch, cute.

Youngest daughter says it’s like wearing a soft heating pad on your shoulders, but of course it’s much more convenient and a bit more fashionable. It even has heated gloves that you can connect at the sleeves. The gloves have screen sensing fingertips so you don’t have to take them off to work your phone. Speaking of phones, you can also charge your phone with your jacket battery in a pocket especially for that. It has a hood. And the whole thing only weighs 1.59 pounds.

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Glove attaches to the connector on the sleeve = nice warm fingers.

Youngest daughter has had a jacket like this for a while now, having seen it as a kickstarter project online.  If you are curious about the jacket or other products made by the company, you can find them at www.ravean.com.  They make a heated hoodie and a sleeping bag.  It feels great out here where it is 35 degrees. Now I’ll have to move somewhere colder than Florida so I can make good use of it.

A portion of my day was spent getting settled in my room. I love it when there is enough closet space for unpacking and hanging everything in the suitcase – no need for pawing around trying to find my wrinkled clothing. It has been an AirBnB room now for about a year and has had a good number of interesting guests staying in it. My daughter’s house, which she has named “Ocean’s Arms” is only a few blocks from Alki public beach and is in a neighborhood of small private homes and apartments, with coffee shops, eateries, finer restaurants and a couple nice parks. It is a good vacation spot with a very relaxing vibe, and if you have read any of my previous Seattle posts you know that there is no end to the captivating places to walk. Urban hiking at it’s finest.

The other venue for the day was Cafè Fiorè, Oganic Coffee House,  where youngest daughter does a lot of her thinking and writing. I can certainly enjoy being in the coffee shop and writing, and I did it, but I am also partial to sitting at home where I usually write and the coffee is cheaper.  It’s a pretty place with a fun loft looking out on an artistic chandelier and the lower entry level. Fortified with a latte, I was able to whip out a post for my brother’s business blog while watching hipsters come and go. Ah, the Seattle life.

I took my vitamins, second day in a row. Yay me.  We were in bed by 9 pm because youngest daughter was needing to go to her workplace the next day. She does contract work for Starbucks corporate and I planned to do a little “learning” about it.  Come by and read about it tomorrow.

December in the PNW: Ordinary Times and Travels, post 1

I am preparing to leave in the morning for Christmas in the Pacific Northwest. I don’t have an aversion to spending holidays at home, really. Home is my favorite place to be, followed closely by any place where my family is located. Youngest daughter is in Seattle so that will be a good place to spend the last half of December. She and I can break in the “new to her” old Airstream that has recently joined her family and keep each other company over that time of year when no one wants to be alone.

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Sylvia

I have a bit of trepidation, rather I should say my mom and the husband have a bit of trepidation, over what home will be like in my absence. They have both promised each other not to have to cook for anyone other than themselves and to eat when they want to eat. Even now they have gone off to Walmart and are probably abandoning my paleo diet regimen at McDonalds. Cooking is just too much work, but eating is simple, if you know what there is to eat. Anyway, for two weeks they are on their own.

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I have not been to Seattle in winter that I can recall. Youngest daughter is sending me texts of the weather report and planning some yard work for me in between the rain and snow forecasts for the week – the whole week. I am getting out clothing that I have not worn since I lived in Wisconsin thirty years ago. I still have the stuff, yes I do. And the cool thing is that most of it is now back in style. Even though I have seen those temps in the 30’s and 40’s it’s still hard to sit here in 85 degree weather and think sweaters. I have snow boots. Oddly enough, I found them on sale here in Florida and couldn’t resist getting them because they fit me. I’m counting on them to keep my feet warm and dry when I tramp around in Schmitz Park, maybe with Charlie.

I say maybe, because I saw a picture of Charlie yesterday and he has no hair anymore.  Some over-zealous groomer practically shaved him and now he will be shivering, unless Grandma gets him a doggie coat. Poor thing.

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And the question in my mind that I can’t wait to have answered is how on earth does all that Seattle traffic work in snow? Youngest daughter told me she decided to ignore “road closed” barriers during the last snowfall and practically slid all the way to her house. Evidently a lot of roads need to be closed when it’s slippery because they are almost too steep to negotiate when it’s dry – and I  know it to be so.

I need some accountability on this trip and will welcome it from anyone. Please make me feel really guilty if I don’t take my vitamins. Normally, they travel with me, and then they travel back home and I eventually eat them.  But because I’ve recently had a respiratory virus and don’t want it to relapse, I need to be especially diligent and eat them while I’m there in Seattle. I will be in an airplane (think virus capsule), sharing air with way too many people and it will be cold and wet when I arrive. I’m one of those people who would rather get the flu than get a flu shot, but to be clear, I’d rather not have either one. Here’s hoping…

 

 

Thanksgiving Chronicle: Getting Home

We were the first to leave on Wednesday. Both daughters and Ryan had flights out of Harrisburg later that day, but we needed to make some road time.  We had decided to take a route through Greensboro, North Carolina since it was an area we would likely be frequenting after daughter Julie started her new job there.  It was recorded as a six hour drive mostly on I-75 and US 29.

It is so common for us to leave Pennsylvania in a dense fog. We traveled past the mountain overlooks with no views except swirling white clouds. One year I even took pictures of the fog. They’re not very exciting pictures.

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The husband at Wendy’s. We ate there.

I don’t like people to be miserable on my road trips. I try to stop regularly at the slightest provocation. Nevertheless, there are times when I overdo it. We stopped at another of Mom’s fast food restaurants, Wendy’s, for lunch. But since we were wanting to see Greensboro in daylight, and maybe get a little farther before dark, we kept going steadily.  There’s a lot of pretty scenery in Virginia and North Carolina. Once the rain stopped, it was a nice drive all the way to the parking lot of Carolina Equine, the vet hospital where Julie will work. It was about fifteen minutes before closing so we drove around the building once and traveled on. I’m not sure what I expected from Greensboro, except to get the lay of the land. Dirt in that part of NC is orange, not my favorite color for dirt. Other than that, it looked like a nice medium sized city.

It got dark and time for us to stop driving but suddenly there were no more cities. We were no longer on an interstate so there were no exits with motels.  I was tired and not sure I wanted to go all the way to I-95. And then there was Bennetsville, South Carolina which promised a couple hotels according to my GPS.  They were not recognizable chains, which always tends to make me a little nervous. I checked a room in the first one and knew we would not be happy there. The second one was scarcely any better. And then the husband saw a Quality Inn listed on his phone.  It was a resting place from God, really. It was clean, quiet and only a quarter mile from Kentucky Fried Chicken, the last fast food place on Mom’s favorite list.  We had a party-like atmosphere going on with our bucket of chicken and a  Dolly Parton Christmas movie on the tv in our room.

We could have made it home the next day, but going through Jacksonville, we decided to call daughter Julie and see how she was doing. She was overwhelmed with work, and needed help getting her personal truck out of the shop. There was no way we could help her and still get home to Bradenton at a reasonable hour. We were on our way out of town, thinking about how disappointed she sounded when Mom suggested that other option – we just stay a night in Jacksonville.  We pulled off I-295 at Commonwealth where Julie’s office was located and made a plan to get her vehicle for her.  Located conveniently behind her office was another Quality Inn, which felt strangely like home after our last night.  We ended up having another party and Julie joined us.

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I am sold on Quality Inn and it’s sister hotels.  A great breakfast makes the price worth it, the room has linens and pillows better than I have at home, and the staff was friendly and attentive. They signed me up for a Choice Privileges rewards program and you can sign up too at this link  or calling the number on the card above. They did not pay me to write this. They rescued us twice on this trip and I owe them.

We got home the next day by noon. It was an uneventful drive. The end of ordinary times and travel, at least for now.

Thanksgiving Chronicle: Ordinary Times and Travels, post 3

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It does not take a fancy hotel name or reputation to impress me. Nice linens, a decent breakfast and cleanliness are my major interests and we had all three at the Super 8 (the price was right too). The clincher was the sunrise they arranged for us. It brought the saying “red sky at morning, sailors take warning…” to mind so we left fairly early. Well fed and rested, we arrived at the coffee house, the site of our Thanksgiving, by noon.

We call it the coffee house because it was one, briefly. Had it been in a better location, and maybe a better time, it would have been a success. My brother still owns it, partly because he lives in the second story, and partly because it hasn’t sold. It is perfect for family gatherings. Perfect in the sense that the whole lower story is made for people having a good time – plenty of seating at tables, a long bar where we line up the Thanksgiving buffet, an industrial kitchen where we cook last day dishes, a cozy (fake) fireplace, and a TV mounted in a corner tuned to the local football station.

Of course, we were half a day early so we unloaded our food dishes into the fridge at the coffee house and went to settle in our lodgings. Here I must mention my niece and her family. They are house flippers, among other things. Conveniently, they had a house they were staging for sale even as we arrived and we got to “test” it out. Seriously, they are like Chip and Joanna, or Tarrek and Christina – they could have a TV show except for the financial backing part. This was the second lovely house of theirs that I had seen and we gladly moved into the three bedrooms ready for us. It was quite brave of my brother to offer to house all of us this year and we were grateful.

The other afternoon event was waiting for everyone else to arrive. I have two daughters and they were coming from opposite ends of the U.S., one from Jacksonville, Fl flying into Detroit, and one from Seattle flying to Flint with one of her good friends.  My nephew, who had arrived earlier from California, drove to Detroit for that pick-up and the others rented a car from Flint.  They trickled in, one group at a time, along with another one of my brothers (I have four) and his wife. By the afternoon, the promised storm had begun, the roads were slippery and we got word that a couple of our invited guests had felt it safer to cancel their trip.  Our Thanksgiving group was in place except for a local couple who would join us the next day.

Our eclectic group, aged from 2 to 84, seven boys/men and six women, Midwesterners, West coasters, East coasters, two different cultural backgrounds, meat eaters and vegetarians, all gathered to be thankful, make memories and eat. Having all arrived safely, we were already thankful.  The eating started that night with soups by Jamie, my niece, and salad. But, of course, the real eating event was yet to come…

Thanksgiving Chronicle: Ordinary Times and Travel post 2

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Up here in the north woods, we always have the weather to contend with when we travel.  The threat of rain turning to snow was scaring us to start our trip a day early. Mom was mentally planning this early departure yesterday when we rolled in from the Minneapolis airport. She had nearly finished her packing and had all the ingredients for the Thanksgiving meal that we had promised to provide, ready to be put together. I baked my pies right away.  We planned to pack up in the morning and stay ahead of the storm.

We were making the drive in Mom’s car, which I love to drive. Mom likes to sit in the back seat surrounded by travel food and her pillows and blankets. The husband sits/sleeps in the “death seat” in front, although I try not to think of it that way. We have become fairly comfortable travel companions; the husband talking (a LOT) and Mom listening and passing us sandwiches and celery sticks at regular intervals. I kind of zone out as I drive. My text messages pop up on the Bluetooth digital screen on the dash, which is a really nice feature of the car. It is a Chevy Captiva. I have trouble remembering the model name, but I’m working on associating it with the mental image of a small SUV strapped into the middle seat of an airplane. That should bring it to mind.

It was a beautiful day for our many hours of driving, with no snow, not even a drop of rain. We were on the road by 9 am after packing the car – always a fun challenge. Mom’s part was the hardest since she was trying to think of everything she would need for the next few months. She started weeks ago putting things aside. As we put it all in the back of Captiva, the only thing she couldn’t locate was her money. She knew she had put the bank envelope in some reasonable place, some safe place where it would be easy to find when it was time to go. So much for that. We all searched everyplace we could think of. But I am so proud of Mom. She is able to laugh and let it be all good. We left and the money was either with us in a place we hadn’t remembered yet, or still back in Hayward, to be found later we hoped.

We drove about 9 hours. We traveled east across Wisconsin and for the first three or four hours we encountered only two trucks which we passed. What a change from the places I usually drive. The two lane road was bordered by forest and marshes, pine trees and birch, lots of rivers, streams and lakes. The dominant color was soft gray in varying intensities, with brushes of deep green and brown. We traveled through Winter, Florence, Minquoa and Eagle River before crossing the border into the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, Escanaba and finally the Mackinac Bridge. We spent the night in the Super 8 in a town called Grayling, leaving only a short trip for the next day.

One of our last conversations driving down I-75 went like this;

The husband, as we were driving in the dark approaching an exit:  “The moon looks really strange tonight”. I looked for the moon in the direction the husband was pointing but what I saw in the sky above the tree line was a bright, round orb with a large M on it.

Me: “That’s a Marathon station at the exit. It’s not the moon, in spite of being marked with an M.”

Husband: “Oh, I thought it looked weird.” We were tired and it was only day 2.

 

Lake a Day Challenge: Company Lake

This is the last post of my challenge since this visit to the northwoods has come to an end.  This lake was a surprise for me. Although the road my sister-in-law and I were biking had been around forever, and was named Company Lake Road, I hadn’t been aware of how pretty it was or of the lake it was named for. The lake was breathtaking in the morning light when we came past it. Unfortunately I had forgotten my camera and had to come back later in the day for photos. It was still pretty gorgeous.

I have to say that this spot is typical of the beauty in the Hayward area and the northwoods in general.  These small lakes, marshes and streams are common. Fish, frogs, turtles, cranes, crows, eagles, geese, ducks, swans, chipmunks, skunks, badgers, otters, beaver, fox, wolves, bear, deer… you name it, it’s here and can often be seen close up.  I will admit that I did not get wet in Company Lake but I have an excuse. I will suffer with mosquitoes, but I will not go close to poison ivy, and the bank where I took these pictures was full of it.  Just enjoy these pictures of late summer in north Wisconsin and know that it is a wonderful place to be.

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Lake a Day Challenge: Nelson Lake and Totogatic River

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Another creative place name as we approach Nelson Lake Dam

There is a large lake a few miles north of Hayward and grandfather’s farm that has a story connected with it. I loved hearing my dad tell me about the days when there was a valley there instead of a lake. He was very young when conservationist Frank Nelson proposed a dam to be built on the Totogatic River to create “a lake or backwater, suitable for fish and which would furnish a refuge and breeding ground for all kinds of wildlife.” Dad had memories of accompanying his father who was helping to remove as much timber from the land to be flooded as possible.  The dam was completed in 1936 and Nelson Lake was created. It’s hard to imagine the valley that lies beneath its waters now.  Much of the shoreline is wild and undeveloped and the lake is known for excellent fishing.

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This wild jumble of blooms completely obscured the stair down to the restrooms.

The park at the dam has been a favorite picnic spot for my parent’s generation, for my generation and hopefully for the next generation. I have done my part by taking my niece and nephew there to explore. It was a “must visit” spot for my lake of the day challenge.

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Not real sure about the green water…

Mom and I drove out and found the park a little overgrown but much the same as we had known it. Wild sumac and flowers covered the bank by the dam and the boat landing was busy with fishermen coming in from a day on the lake. There was a lot of algae bloom in the water which made it a little uninviting as far as swimming was concerned. I stayed with the one foot dip. But the views were fantastic and after reading some of the history of the lake here , I was more appreciative of the part the lake and its accompanying flowage played in local commerce.  There is a large island in the middle of the lake accessible only by boat and I think exploring it is going on the list for my next visit.

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Nelson Lake behind the dam, island in view.
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Water is high now and there is good flow going over the dam.
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The Totogatic River downstream from the dam and highway bridge.

#5: Lake Hayward

It’s not just about the lakes here in northern Wisconsin. It’s about the whole outdoors experience. Part of it, for those of us who grew up here, is berry picking. I’m talking about serious berry picking, where you gear up with two layers of pants, long sleeves, a belt to hang your berry bucket on, head protection against the deer flies, lots of bug repellant and your sixth sense of where not to go, where not to step, what not to touch.

We went berry picking this morning because my brother had reported seeing bountiful berry patches on our farmland near Round Lake. He had been cutting trails in the overgrown woods and fields with his flail mower (he does this for fun, yeah???) and wanted to take us out in his Kubota tractor to where we could just stand in the trail and pick all the blackberries we wanted. Sounded good. We went early because of forecasted severe weather coming our way.

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Beautiful fruit. Wicked, brutal thorns.

Mom and I drove out to the field/woods in her SUV and met my brother and his wife. We were startled by a graceful buck deer that ran across our path. We were also aware that there were bear in the area, as seen on my brother’s woods cam, but thankfully we didn’t flush any of them out this time. We also saw large flocks of Canada geese and several sandhill cranes in the harvested oat field we drove through. After hunting for a while we did find what we were really looking for, berries, hiding amidst the goldenrod and pines. Unfortunately, the storm found us and we had to cut our picking short. But now we know where they are, and we’re not telling.

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Goldenrod. I’ve never seen so much of it in one place.

Today’s lake is Lake Hayward, which is formed by a dam on the Namekagon right in the town of Hayward. Here the town has its beach park and I remember many picnics and swims in this spot. I remember it being a lot larger than it really is, oh well. It is close to another Hayward landmark, the “big fish”.  Hayward being the Musky Capital of the World someone had to build a giant muskelunge for tourists to get the full experience.  If you want to, you can climb the stairs and view the town from the fish’s mouth, something you don’t get to do everyday.  Today’s photo credit goes to Mom who accompanied me. wp-1470860401413.jpg

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Both feet wet in Lake Hayward, holding lilypad.
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The mouth of the fish (nightmare material, maybe)
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And the tail, with a person in the picture for perspective. It’s big.