http://www.roadsideamerica.com/roger/QueryTips.php3?tip_AttractionName=egg&tip_State=WA&Submit=Go
Click above to see yet ANOTHER of my favorite quirky attractions in Lewis County. Winlock has an EGG DAY every year. They have an egg parade and serve egg salad sandwiches. By the way, we will be hatching a chicken egg in my classroom after spring break.
April 07, 2005
http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1385
Click above to see one of my favorite Lewis County attractions. This YARD BIRD used to be in front of a department store. The store used to have "phone book" sales. They would post pages of the phone book in certain departments and if your name was on the page in that department they would give you a percent off anything in that department. It was great fun. Yes, our phone book is that small.
My parents told me that at one time there was a yard bird that you DROVE UNDERNEATH to get into the parking lot of the store, but a suspicious fire burned it and a new one was built. Tall tale? who knows.
Click above to see one of my favorite Lewis County attractions. This YARD BIRD used to be in front of a department store. The store used to have "phone book" sales. They would post pages of the phone book in certain departments and if your name was on the page in that department they would give you a percent off anything in that department. It was great fun. Yes, our phone book is that small.
My parents told me that at one time there was a yard bird that you DROVE UNDERNEATH to get into the parking lot of the store, but a suspicious fire burned it and a new one was built. Tall tale? who knows.
April 03, 2005
There are certain rules I like to follow when I eat out:
1. Try to stick with the ethnicity. For example, never order a hamburger at an Italian restaraunt.
2. Never eat food from a gas station. Even if there is, for example a burger joint inside of a gas station, don't eat there.
3. Whenever possible, try to eat as a place where the food is made in front of you, like Subway or Taco Del Mar.
The other day my coworkers were telling me how wonderful this Mexican restaraunt is that just happens to be inside of a gas station. Right away I said, no, thanks! that's NOT for me. But they ordered in from the place the other day and it did look REALLY good. So Paul and I went the other day. Past the snacks and the slushies all the way to the back of the store. It did not feel right to me! I do not like it Sam I am, I do not like to eat in gas stations. But it was great and clean and wonderful and Paul liked it. Sometimes when you move you end up doing things you would not normally be inclined towards, and are surprised when they turn out to be wonderful. This is now what we do when we want to go out at night: go to eat at the gas station, go over to someones house, not the normal myriad of things we would have had to choose from in Portland. The other day Paul and I were snickering about something stupid that someone had done:
"What kind of person DOES that?" said Paul.
"Psh, city people!" I said.
1. Try to stick with the ethnicity. For example, never order a hamburger at an Italian restaraunt.
2. Never eat food from a gas station. Even if there is, for example a burger joint inside of a gas station, don't eat there.
3. Whenever possible, try to eat as a place where the food is made in front of you, like Subway or Taco Del Mar.
The other day my coworkers were telling me how wonderful this Mexican restaraunt is that just happens to be inside of a gas station. Right away I said, no, thanks! that's NOT for me. But they ordered in from the place the other day and it did look REALLY good. So Paul and I went the other day. Past the snacks and the slushies all the way to the back of the store. It did not feel right to me! I do not like it Sam I am, I do not like to eat in gas stations. But it was great and clean and wonderful and Paul liked it. Sometimes when you move you end up doing things you would not normally be inclined towards, and are surprised when they turn out to be wonderful. This is now what we do when we want to go out at night: go to eat at the gas station, go over to someones house, not the normal myriad of things we would have had to choose from in Portland. The other day Paul and I were snickering about something stupid that someone had done:
"What kind of person DOES that?" said Paul.
"Psh, city people!" I said.
March 21, 2005
March 14, 2005
March 11, 2005
March 10, 2005
March 08, 2005
Welcome To Holland
by
Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.
* * *
©1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved.
Ms. Kingsley is an award-winning writer for Sesame Street. She has published many children's books, and two videos as well as her essay "Welcome to Holland." Since her son, Jason, was born with Down Syndrome she has been a crusader to ensure that the media inlude more people with disabilities on TV programming.
Her son Jason, now an adult, has a job and lives on his own. He has appeared on several television shows and is the co-author of Count Us In: Growing Up With Down Syndrome.
by
Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.
* * *
©1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved.
Ms. Kingsley is an award-winning writer for Sesame Street. She has published many children's books, and two videos as well as her essay "Welcome to Holland." Since her son, Jason, was born with Down Syndrome she has been a crusader to ensure that the media inlude more people with disabilities on TV programming.
Her son Jason, now an adult, has a job and lives on his own. He has appeared on several television shows and is the co-author of Count Us In: Growing Up With Down Syndrome.
Welcome To Holland
by
Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.
* * *
©1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved.
Ms. Kingsley is an award-winning writer for Sesame Street. She has published many children's books, and two videos as well as her essay "Welcome to Holland." Since her son, Jason, was born with Down Syndrome she has been a crusader to ensure that the media inlude more people with disabilities on TV programming.
Her son Jason, now an adult, has a job and lives on his own. He has appeared on several television shows and is the co-author of Count Us In: Growing Up With Down Syndrome.
by
Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.
* * *
©1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved.
Ms. Kingsley is an award-winning writer for Sesame Street. She has published many children's books, and two videos as well as her essay "Welcome to Holland." Since her son, Jason, was born with Down Syndrome she has been a crusader to ensure that the media inlude more people with disabilities on TV programming.
Her son Jason, now an adult, has a job and lives on his own. He has appeared on several television shows and is the co-author of Count Us In: Growing Up With Down Syndrome.
March 03, 2005
Things I have learned about living in the country:
1. Garbage can be a complicated thing. When I used to visit my parents I would always have to ask, "Where do I put this?" when I had something that needed to be thrown away. And I knew I had committed a garbage faux pas when someone said, "Who put this in the compost?" (it was always me). Now I am wiser and Paul and I even have our own little complicated garbage system. We actually have at least five places that we put our garbage, depending on whether it is burnable, compostable, recyclable, or just garbage. It was so easy in Portland - we just put it in the dumpster.
2. Horses know when you are afraid of them.
3. Potlucks are better here.
4. There are not as many things to do here, but that's just fine. At first we were always looking for something to do. We stopped looking for things to do and just did the things we felt like doing. We do less things now but we enjoy being together more.
5. We still miss our friends - a lot.
1. Garbage can be a complicated thing. When I used to visit my parents I would always have to ask, "Where do I put this?" when I had something that needed to be thrown away. And I knew I had committed a garbage faux pas when someone said, "Who put this in the compost?" (it was always me). Now I am wiser and Paul and I even have our own little complicated garbage system. We actually have at least five places that we put our garbage, depending on whether it is burnable, compostable, recyclable, or just garbage. It was so easy in Portland - we just put it in the dumpster.
2. Horses know when you are afraid of them.
3. Potlucks are better here.
4. There are not as many things to do here, but that's just fine. At first we were always looking for something to do. We stopped looking for things to do and just did the things we felt like doing. We do less things now but we enjoy being together more.
5. We still miss our friends - a lot.
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