Our youngest son turned 9 over Memorial Day weekend. He likes to get out and explore new places so, after gfit opening and birthday breakfast, we decided to take a day trip to Hopewell Furnace. Despite being relatively close to home, it is a National Historic Site we had not visited in our four years of living in PA so it was high time we went to check it out.
As Hopewell Furnace was in operation prior to the American Revolution, it is considered to be one of America’s oldest industrial sites and, therefore, a place of historic significance. We began our trip in the Visitor’s Centre with a video providing us with a useful potted history of the “iron plantation”. We learned about the site having been chosen because of a confluence of natural resources, about the evolving treatment of and attitude African-American workers – ranging from slavery to early desegregation and the Underground Railroad – and of female employees, its contribution to the War of Independence, and about the process of manufacturing iron as it was undertaken from the 1770s through to its closure in the 1880s.
As with all National Parks sites, Hopewell Furnace was beautifully maintained and easy to navigate. We found that we could walk in a loop and take in all of the buildings and ruins. Hopewell operated as a charcoal furnace for most of its existence because the price of hauling coal to the site was prohibitive so we saw the area where charcoal would have been created. We had learned that the furnace could consume as much as 800 bushels of charcoal in one day so it must have been a demanding job. We all enjoyed seeing the blast furnace, not simply because it was very cool inside on such a hot day. I normally find it pretty challenging to engage with industrial heritage but I had no difficulty imagining the workers operating inside the furnace as it all seemed so visually clear. We had seen where the “ingredients” would be dropped into the shaft in order to be super-heated, and then the bit at the bottom of the “chimney” from where the molten metal would flow once the seal was broken. There was then a nearby area where the skilled workers would pour the iron into sand moulds in order to manufacture various items. We were all somewhat mesmerised by the water wheel. Sure it was a nifty piece of engineering and critical to the manufacturing process but I think for at least the boys and me it was really just that there is something aesthetically pleasing and calming about watching a wheel rotate.
We had been informed that the workers’ houses were not yet open to the public for the season but, in fact, we found that a couple of them were open. They had been furnished with reproduction furniture and household items which was fantastic as it helped us understand how families utilised the space and also allowed the kids to engage a bit more since the experience became tactile. My husband and the birthday boy even played a quick card game in one of the houses. Industrial history doesn’t really do it for me so it was the social history regarding issues like racial (in)equality and the lives of the workers that really helped to anchor my interest in the site.
After some time spent befriending Maximilian the horse, our final stop was the Ironmaster’s house. The ground floor is open for viewing, with barriers keeping visitors back from the furniture and other artefacts that bring each room to life. I think what my kids most enjoyed about the “big house”, however, was the porch complete with rocking chairs. After months of dismal weather, they have not yet readjusted to heat and sunlight. They better get used to it, however, as I intend for us to be outdoors a lot this summer after hibernating for months.
My third son was gifted a session at Go Ape for his 11th birthday. My oldest son had done Go Ape back in Britain for his tenth birthday but this was a first experience for the other boys. The three older boys were eligible to do the full course under the supervision of Mr Pict and their grandfather. My youngest son, being too wee for the full course, had a ticket to spend an hour on a junior course which my mother-in-law and I could supervise from ground level.
It was just as well I could supervise from the ground as I don’t think I could have managed even the junior course without my fear of heights causing me to go into a panic. The staff at Go Ape were fantastic. They were competent, of course, but they were also great with their encouragement and praise and creating challenge. My youngest son – who is completely fearless – got the hang of the course pretty quickly so they encouraged him to try and beat his own personal record, then to do one of the routes backwards, and to try different types of jump on the zipline. He had a whale of a time and absolutely loved it.
Once our time was up with the junior course, we headed into the woods to track down the others and see how they were getting on. We had seen them getting fitted into their harnesses and being trained and at that time they were all smiles and excitement. We wondered if, almost two hours in, they were flagging or finding it was getting too challenging. We met up with them just as they were doing the fourth stretch of the course. They were definitely feeling challenged but were still enjoying the experience. It made me queasy seeing how high up they were. Shortly after we met up with them, they had a choice to make as to whether to take a difficult route over to a platform or an extreme route. My oldest son wanted to do the extreme route which meant his father had to take a deep breath and accompany him. They had to move between a series of short scramble nets which were dangling in the canopy of the trees. It was pretty terrifying to watch even from ground level. Meanwhile, our birthday boy was having an attack of nerves as he found the combination of height, wobbly platforms, and wind to be overwhelming. It took him a while to collect himself but, with some advice and encouragement from a member of staff on the ground, he took a first step and then another and then in no time he was across to the next platform. That experience, however, meant that once he was back on the ground, he decided he was staying there. He was done. So were his 12 year old brother and grandfather. My oldest son decided he wanted to complete the course in its entirety, however, which meant one final set of challenges. Since he had to be accompanied by an adult, that meant his father had to complete it too. This included what my husband declared was the scariest part of the course: a just-too-long drop off of a platform to swing across onto a net. Once they ziplined back across the lake, they too were done.
Every member of Team Pict had challenged themselves and felt a sense of accomplishment. Just maybe even my mother-in-law and I get to include ourselves in that since we overcame our anxiety enough to spectate and offer encouragement. Everyone was hungry after hours spent in low temperatures in the woods, especially those who had been burning calories swinging here and there, so it was time to eat. The birthday boy wanted to have pizza for dinner so we headed to Anthony’s Coal Fired Pizza and had some delicious food. Once we were home, he had his special birthday dessert, a platter of cannolis, one of his favourite things.
The main focus of my birthday trip to Philadelphia was to visit Edgar Allan Poe’s house in the city. We decided to walk there from the Independence Hall area since it was a lovely Autumn day and it was only about a half hour walk. The only snag was that we had to cross a major road but we did so safely since the traffic was moving slowly. Still, we returned by a different route. When Poe had lived in that property, it had actually been outside the city limits so it was interesting to think how much the city has sprawled since then.
Poe’s house is one of three in which he lived in Philly but the only one still standing. The property has been administered by the National Park Service as a National Historic Site since the 1970s and has been expanded to include two adjacent properties – which I think post-date Poe having lived there – so that one provides space for the museum and one for an additional staircase with fire doors. Nevertheless, this Poe house was modest but much bigger than his Baltimore home, which we had visited in August. A Ranger explained that he had been able to afford a year’s rent there after winning a literary prize. The rooms were much more light and spacious than they had been in the dark and cramped Baltimore home and the staircases, while steep and narrow, were not as claustrophobic as in that property either.
The house is kept in a state of “arrested decay”. The spaces, therefore, give an impression of how Poe, his wife-cousin, and aunt-mother-in-law would have lived but they have not been furnished and there are no personal Poe family possessions on display. I liked all of the walls covered in layers of peeled paint and the boys loved all of the closets.
A highlight of the house was the cellar. Since Poe is associated with all things eerie and creepy, it was fun to be in a dark and dingy cellar in one of his houses. The Ranger had also sparked the boys’ imaginations by asking them where in the cellar they would stash a corpse. Worryingly, they identified several possibilities. Perhaps I should just be glad they are problem-solvers. It is apparently possible that the cellar inspired the one described in ‘The Black Cat’ which appealed to my cat-obsessed 8 year old.
In the museum area of the site, in one of the houses that would have neighboured Poe’s one, there was a room set up as a reading room and a book case full of Poe’s works, books directly inspired by his works, and some volumes of Poe criticism. My youngest son settled at a table and read a picture book. Outside the property, there was a metal raven statue that we all liked and we also spotted a Poe mural on the gable end of a row of houses nearby. So that was Poe’s Philly house and now I only have his cottage in the Bronx left to visit. It is on my travel bucket list.
We departed Poe’s house and walked back towards the centre of the city. We stopped in at Reading Terminal Market. The only other time I have gone in there was also for my birthday trip, back in 2013 just after we had emigrated to America. That was a bit of a disaster of a day and we had literally walked into one door of the market and immediately out of another because the kids were fizzing out due to the crowds. It was definitely less crowded on that Saturday evening but the narrow rows between food stalls still made it feel a bit too bustling for me. I really don’t do crowds. My kids are mini foodies so their eyes lit up at the possibility of buying some special treat foods. We came away with Cajun bacon, some fancy type of jerky, and some root beer – none of which are things I consume. Then – because we were not done being foodies – we went to a restaurant named Indeblue that serves Indian cuisine. All of we Picts love curries and Indian flavours so we ordered a selection of items from the menu to share as a smorgasbord. It was all perfectly cooked and absolutely delicious and was the perfect way to end my celebratory day.
We had a day out in Philly on Saturday to celebrate my birthday. Last year I chose to visit a historic cemetery and this year I decided we should consume more local history. I thought it was entirely ridiculous that I had been living in the suburbs of Philadelphia for four years now (as of 17 October) yet had never been to see the Liberty Bell or been inside Independence Hall. That, therefore, was my selection for the first part of my birthday trip.
The lines to get in to see the Liberty Bell – part of the Independence Historic Site – were long but not as ridiculously long as they have been on other occasions when we have considered viewing it. We, therefore, joined the line and found that it moved at a reasonable pace. We all had to remove layers of clothing and place our possessions in boxes to be scanned for security purposes but, even so, it only took about half an hour between joining the queue and being allowed to go and view the bell. There were displays outlining the bell’s history, its symbolism, and how it has been cared for and restored. The boys had zero interest in lingering long enough to read so Mr Pict and I had to skim and scan.
The bell is, of course, famous for its crack. This appeared as soon as it was rung for the first time in Philadelphia. Poor workmanship it seems. It was recast a couple of times by men whose names – Pass and Stow – appear on the bell and then the bell cracked to the extent it appears now in the 19th Century. It was probably one of the bells that was rung when the Declaration of Independence was read publicly for the first time on 8 July 1776 but really the rest of its history was pretty insignificant. Its real importance emerges from its symbolism, particularly for the abolitionist movement. Its use as a symbol is really why I wanted to see it: the bell is used all over the place locally and nationally so I thought I had really better see the real thing.
After our visit to the Liberty Bell, the plan was to go and explore Independence Hall. However, all of the tickets for the day were already gone. Completely bad planning on our part. Tsk tsk. We will have to return another time. We, therefore, had to content ourselves with the adjacent Old City Hall. Its significance rests in the fact that it housed the Supreme Court until the nation’s capital was relocated to Washington DC. We had a quick gander and then we moved on.
Sticking with the theme of America’s founding, our next pit stop was to see the grave of Benjamin Franklin. There was a charge, however, to enter Christ Church Burial Ground. Despite the modest fee, we decided not to pay so I had to content myself with a glimpse through the railings. Oh dear. Our planning for the day was really not going too well at all. Happily none of this was the main event for my birthday day out.
On the day of my oldest son’s 14th Birthday, we decided to visit Hershey Park. After the previous day’s hike, we thought that he and his brothers would prefer a busy day at a theme park by way of a birthday celebration rather than further explorations of Pennsylvania state parks. His birthday happened to coincide with the first day that Hershey Park was open for the 2017 season. This meant that tickets were half-price (since not all areas of the park and rides were open) but also meant that it was thronging with people.
Theme parks are not my thing at all. As I have had cause to state several times on this blog, I have a terrible fear of heights. I also dislike things that move too quickly in a way that makes me feel out of control. So, yes, theme parks are not the place for the likes of me. Happily, Mr Pict, while not an adrenalin junkie, is quite happy to accompany our kids on any and all rides they might wish to go on. I, therefore, get to sit back and watch them without any pressure to participate in any rides that make me freak out.
I expected there to be more of a chocolate or candy theme to the park but, while present on and off, for the most part the park was like a gigantic fairground stuffed full of thrill rides and traditional rides. We were there before the park opened so were among the first people in and, for the first couple of hours, it was not overly crowded and the queues were not unbearable. It also helped that the morning was a little overcast and the temperatures not too hot. That meant that the kids were able to get onto a good few rides they were really keen on doing without much hassle.
After noon, temperatures steadily grew and so did the crowds and – with that combination – so did fractiousness and frustrations. The lines started to get insufferably long for the kids. For them, there has to be an acceptable correspondence between the length of time waiting to get on a ride and the duration of the ride itself. They felt that every ride they did was super fun and worth doing but not necessarily worth the time and energy spent queuing. Standing still can be more tiring than walking. They started to get frazzled.
There were a couple of rides left that at least some of the kids were keen to do. However, when they saw the length of the queues, they decided it wasn’t worth the wait. Mr Pict and I have been parents for 14 years now but have only recently become veterans enough to recognise when to call it quits, taking our lead from the kids’ moods, rather than push things to the point that it risks undermining the success of the whole day. So we quit while the going was good but not before feeling as if we had got our money’s worth from our day at Hershey Park.
Last week was Satchi the cat’s third birthday. To be more precise, it was his honorary birthday which the boys decided should be held on his “Gotcha Day’, the anniversary of the date we adopted him a year ago. He celebrated with tuna for dinner and even more cuddles than usual.
He has changed so much in a year. When we adopted him, he had just had his leg amputated and was very unstable in his movement. He was also underweight and, while friendly, wasn’t that sociable. Now he is a healthy weight, possibly even a little plump, and super fluffy and manages just fine with three legs. While Satchi is still not a lap cat, he has become much more sociable, seeking us out for cuddles and affection, and cuddling up on one of our beds each night. He also has an adorable relationship with Peanut.
We really lucked out adopting two cats who are the best of friends. Our cats are just the best.
When we adopted Peanut in February, we were told he was three months old. This gave him a November birthday. The boys – particularly my youngest two – were very keen to celebrate Peanut’s very first birthday so they organised a little celebration party for him. Peanut and Satchi shared a can of tuna, a special treat for them, and the humans got to eat some carrot cake. It was sweet to see the kids making such a fuss for their cat’s birthday. I cannot believe how much Peanut has grown in the nine months since we adopted him. He is almost big enough to fit his ears now.