Alice's Adventures Underground

An Old Salt

Posted on 9/24/2013 04:17:00 PM - by NG

Ohmigosh, you guys. You know what happened this week?

This:

IS SIX!!

I am as shocked as you are.

Especially since last year, I gave it explicit directions not to get any older after five. When do they learn to mind?

Funny story about this year's birthday. Many weeks back, we discussed birthday plans and each of The Ankle Biters said they preferred to go on an excursion rather than to have an actual party. As a parent and social recluse, this is MUSIC TO MY EARS. No people in my house? SURE! No need to clean the post-party destruction? OF COURSE! No other people's bratty kids to herd around? YES, PLEASE! No need to make small talk with parents I barely know because our kids happen to be the same age? SHOW ME WHERE TO SIGN!

I don't care how much more a trip for their birthday would cost than throwing a party; I will do it every time. (And usually it costs a lot less.) And that is why by the end of October this year, we will have made three trips to the Pennsylvania Renaissance Fair.

The Caterpillar had her special weekend there last week. But we didn't have cake then so the night before her actual birthday, I decided to throw a little impromptu Cake Event. Nothing special. We invited neighbors to come over for dinner and said we'd have cake for dessert. And then I thought it would be funny to let her think I'd forgotten the cake or her actual birthday at all (because YES, I AM A MONSTER) and have cake and neighbors just be in our house when she came home from dance class that night to surprise her. And then I thought it'd be nice to have a decoration or two and maybe she could have at least one present to open on her birthday and The KingofHearts decided to make her a treasure map to find her gifts and that's how her Not-Party turned into party number two in five days.

Sigh. I have absolutely no willpower.

In the car on the way from dance class that evening was the first time I think she realized that we actually didn't do anything on her birthday and she got pretty despondent over the whole thing.

"I thought birthdays were supposed to have decorations, and balloons and cake and presents with bows on them."

"But we talked about this and you decided you wanted to go to the Renaissance Fair instead of have a party."

"I know."

"And did you go to the Ren. Fair?"

"Yes."

"And did you have fun?"

*heavy sigh* "Yes."

"So that was your party, right?"

"I know. I just thought today would be different."

"Hmm... well, maybe next year you make a different choice then."

I may have also said something about how no one threw me a party on my birthday as well (see above re: MONSTER); I'm not one hundred percent sure.

Anyway, when she came home, she was greeted by a dark house, so I let her go inside first and six people jumped out to yell "surprise," which scared her half to death and then we laughed and laughed. Again, MONSTER.

When she recovered from her shock, she found decorations,

and balloons,

a new friend I ordered online for Halloween (see above re: no willpower),

who was holding a treasure map.

And then she had to go on a treasure hunt to find her presents because Daddy had buried them all in the backyard.

No seriously.

There was also cake.

Weeks back, when I asked her what kind of cake she wanted, she said, "A pirate ship cake. Like you made before."

Now, I love the pirate-birthday thing. And her pirate cakes are some of my favorite cakes ever. And the day we planned to go to the Renaissance Fair just happened to be pirate weekend. But I've known for awhile that I wouldn't be able to force my weird obsessions on her forever and I thought that maybe she was over the pirate-themed birthday stuff or at least would like to choose her own theme. So when she said she wanted a pirate ship cake, I offered,

"You know you don't always have to have a pirate birthday party. It could be any kind of party you like. You could have a princess party. Or a kitty-cat party. Or some other kind of party."

She looked at me, then looked at the ground and muttered,

"But I like pirates."

"Well, pirates it is, then!"

No holds barred now.

I didn't exactly have time to make another pirate ship cake, so I made an eye patch cake.

I know. It's not my best work. I don't want to talk about it.

I also don't want to talk about the after effects of black icing.

*shudder*

Or what happens when you let two six year olds play with pirate action figures near a half-eaten cake.

Or why my six year old appears to be trying to moon me in this photo.

Avast, ye landlubbers!

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God's 1st Church of Hoochie Mama

Posted on 9/22/2013 10:47:00 PM - by NG In: PA

Scene: Renaissance Faire, Pennsylvania. Walking leisurely through vendor row. Nice, wholesome, family activity.

Dormouse: "Mom! Look at that outfit! Wouldn't that make a good church outfit?"

Me: "I don't see the outfit you're talking about."

Dormouse: "There." *points vaguely in that direction*

Me: "Where?"

Dormouse: "There!" *more haphazard pointing*

Me: "I don't see what you're talking about."

Dormouse: "This outfit. HERE!"

She runs up to the chain mail vendor and points to....

....

....

THIS:

Half a dozen people overhear this discussion and, apparently, the look on my face (because that was pretty loud) when I realize what she thinks is a "good church outfit."

Me: "GOOD HEAVENS. WHAT KIND OF CHURCH ARE YOU GOING TO, KID?"

Same bystanders laugh.

Dormouse: *sullenly* "Well, I was gonna wear tights."

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Ellie

Posted on 9/17/2013 04:55:00 PM - by NG

This weekend I met an elephant.

A beautiful elephant that The Dormouse and The Caterpillar actually rode -- along with some other kid who takes your money and then apparently if there aren't enough other patrons to fit four-to-an-elephant like he wants, he just hops on with whomever and rides alongside because I guess the elephant has a minimum weight requirement? I don't know.

Where can I get a gig like his?

I didn't ride the elephant myself, but I could have just stood there all day staring into her eyes.

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Bewildering Conversations if You're an Older Sister

Posted on 9/16/2013 06:18:00 PM - by NG In: BCitK

Caterpillar: "Sister!"

*no response*

Caterpillar: "Sister!"

*still no response*

Caterpillar: *calls down the stairs* "Sister!"

*no response*

Caterpillar: *yells into the air vent* "Sister!"

*no response*

Caterpillar: *runs into the bathroom* "Sister!"

*no response*

Caterpillar: "Momma, where's Sister?"

Me: "I don't know honey."

Caterpillar: *yells out the front door* "Sister!"

*no response*

Caterpillar: *runs to back door, yells out back door* "Sister!"

*no response*

Caterpillar: *stands in middle of living room, yells at top of lungs* "SIIIIIIIIIIIISSSTEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRR!"

Finally, The Dormouse comes stomping up the stairs from the basement, fit to be tied.

Dormouse: "I WAS BUSY! CAN'TCHA WAIT JUST A MINUTE? OK, I'm here. NOW. WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT?"

Caterpillar: "I was gonna tell you to give me some privacy for a few minutes."

*no response*

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I'm Sensitive and I'd Like to Stay That Way

Posted on 9/13/2013 04:47:00 PM - by NG

This Spring, the Shortlings planted some mimosa pudica seeds. The first time I ever saw this plant was a few years ago at Monticello in Thomas Jefferson's garden. The Monticello people called it a Sensitive Plant but a neighborhood kid once told me she grew up calling it a Touch Me Not, which I think is also funny. Wikipedia tells me it's also called a Sleepy Plant. The KingofHearts told the kids about this plant and they were fascinated, so he ordered some seeds online and they planted them in a pot outside our front door.

Here's why it got its name(s):

What I didn't know about the sensitive plant was that it blooms. Adorable, tiny, purple blooms that are about the size of a marble. They remind me of Horton Hears a Who and whenever I pass by to go to my car in the morning I subconsciously listen for voices. To date, I have heard none.

But still, I listen. Because a person's a person, no matter how small.

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Love in a Farmers' Market

Posted on 9/11/2013 05:15:00 PM - by NG

Last weekend we happened into a farmers' market and The Dormouse found a heart-shaped tomato.

Today, as I sit in meetings, listen in to conference calls, and try to crunch numbers that were due weeks ago, when those feelings from twelve years ago wash over me in unwanted spurts and before someone says something that jerks me back to reality, I will think of this photo.

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Dishes

Posted on 9/07/2013 09:18:00 AM - by NG

I don't have a lot of memories of my grandparents when I was a kid, mostly because I seem to have the ability to forget what happened the day before yesterday quite easily. One thing I do remember, however, is helping Grandma in the kitchen and her teaching me about how to put meals together. I'm pretty sure the first time I picked a ripe tomato off the vine, covered it with basil and salt and then ate it like an apple was in Grandma's kitchen. I know the first time I caught a Rainbow Trout on a fishing trip, then brought it home and learned to clean and fry it, it was in Grandma's cast iron pan standing next to that 1950s-era refrigerator with the pull-open handle. I'm also fairly sure that my ability to look in the kitchen cabinets, see only three unlike ingredients - say, an onion, sardines and a melon - and figure out how to make a meal using all of them came from those summer afternoons with Grandma in the kitchen.

Grandma had a set of Franciscan Desert Rose dinnerware and every meal was served on it in her house. She wasn't much for the kind of China you'd put in your cabinet and only take out once a year at Christmas (and then spend a good deal of time washing off the dust it had been collecting since last Christmas). As the story goes, they got them in some sort of sweepstakes promotion, or at a gas-station give away in the 50s. I'm quite sure most of these aren't original pieces. Here and there over the years, something would break and someone would find a replacement at a garage sale or thrift store. Once, years ago, right after I moved to D.C., I saw a whole set of them in a thrift store and I almost bought them but then decided not to because I lived in a small apartment and the guy I was dating convinced me I didn't have room in my kitchen. I could kick myself for that now because I've never seen another piece in a store out here since.

I loved Grandma's dishes because they reminded me of her: simple, useful, practical, classy.

Franciscan Desert Rose was produced in the US from 1941-1984, in England from 1985-2003, and in China and Thailand since 2004. There is a variance in color between these time periods.

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The Demise of Camp Sweatshop

Posted on 9/06/2013 09:57:00 PM - by NG In: Camp Sweatshop

Last year our summer was disappointing at best. I had The Shortlings in a combination of stay at home with Momma and Summer Camp at the facility where they want to pre-school. It seemed like a workable solution, but the kids did only a small percentage of the fun-filled activities and trips that were promised and, much to my consternation, they ended up watching movies a good portion of each day or sitting in a corner watching their friends play hand-held video games they brought because there just wasn't enough to do during the day. It irritated me because honestly, if I wanted to let Screens babysit my kids for three months, I could have done that in my living room and for a helluvalot less money. Plus, I'd get to monitor what they watch.

It wasn't much better on the days they were home with me, because as it turns out, I am a pretty crappy Summer Camp Director too.

Every time I brought up the schedule of activities, or lack thereof, with the Center Director, I was promised that this was an unusual circumstance and things would be different just as soon as X happened, or Y fell into place, or Z was hired or whatever. It was week after week of excuses and promises until the end of summer when I, along with several other parents, made it clear to the Director that we were not happy with the value per dollar and wouldn't be back. It was a hard decision because some of the teachers at that school had known my kids since before they could talk and they were the reasons we kept coming back. But The Dormouse was starting to outgrow the place and with The Caterpillar starting kindergarten last year, we wouldn't be back for preschool anyway.

This is how I feel about you, Last Year's Summer Camp.

So we trudged through the school year, knowing we'd have to come up with a plan for summer, but mostly choosing to think about that tomorrow, Scarlett. And then May came and we were like, "Oh crap! Guess we'd better do something."

The KingofHearts found the summer camp program we ended up choosing. He happened across the website and I'd heard of it from some friends so it came highly recommended. It was a bit more money than we'd spent last summer, but the plan looked better and if nothing else, they got to swim every day, which didn't even happen once a week last year.

As it turns out, it was one of the best decisions we've ever made. They were exposed to the most amazing, diverse group of activities and people and I couldn't be more happy with the experience they had. On the last day, parents were invited to come and watch the group skits and I sat in the back, near tears, because this was over, and because school would start again with all its issues, and because I could have been sending them here all along. I know they have to go back to school eventually, but I think they probably learned more this summer and had more positive experiences than they'll get in school all the rest of the year combined. So now the issue becomes saving enough money to do this again next summer, because man, was it worth it.

The Caterpillar dancing for her group's skit, but looking more like she's balancing on a beam.

The Dormouse doing her very best Harlem Shake.

This kid was so amazing with my children. He is truly my favorite of all the teenage counselors and I wanted to take him home with me on the last day so he could live in my basement and entertain me and the girls.

This is maybe my favorite of all the pictures I took on that day. The Caterpillar has her head on the shoulder of her "BFF." She doesn't even know what BFF stands for, but she knows she have three new BFFs.

So long summer, we'll miss you.

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The Game of Awesome

Posted on 9/03/2013 05:41:00 PM - by NG

To keep the kids happy in the car while we were driving two hours out of our way to see a severed arm, I invented the Game of Awesome. The etymology of the Game of Awesome went something like this: We're driving around, somewhere in rural Virginia and Monica sees a llama... or an alpaca... or a llampaca... and begins pointing and screaming at the top of her lungs, "LLAMALLAMALLAMALLAMALLAMA!"

It doesn't take much to amuse her.

Or The Shortlings, in fact, because by the time anyone figured out what Monica was hollering about, we'd passed the location and were unable to confirm the existence of this alleged llama. They were all so disappointed THEY didn't get to see the llampaca, that there was much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Anyway, I declared that Monica deserved an Awesome Point for watching out the window and finding Awesome Things rather than fighting with her seatmates or complaining that it was taking too long to get there because all of that stuff definitely was Not Awesome. I suggested they also look out the window and try to find Awesome Things and try to get an Awesome Point too. So the Great Awesome Race of 2013 began.

Some things we found that were Awesome

This spider trap:

Point: Dormouse

This ice cream shop:

Point: Me

The ice cream we bought from this ice cream shop when I told Monica to "just get me something small, I don't care what" and went to the bathroom -- so she bought me a GIANT BANANA SPLIT:

Point: whoever paid for the ice cream

This albino snake about to eat a not-quite-thawed dead mouse and the museum attendant shaking the mouse around with tweezers so the snake would think it was alive:

Point: Caterpillar

The fact that the above albino snake never did eat the mouse and therefore at least one of the Shortlings - who was the most likely to be disturbed by this sad fact of nature and have nightmares later, but who didn't want to be left out when I offered to take her into another room if she didn't want to watch - wasn't likely to have nightmares about it later.

Point: Monica-who-didn't-have-to-stay-up-with-that-child-that-night

The butterfly house at the botanical gardens:

Point: Marielle

Getting a butterfly to land on your finger:

Point: Dormouse

This flower:

Point: Me

This sign:

Point: Monica (who also began screaming MYNUTSMYNUTSMYNUTS!)

This sign was also Awesome:

Point: Me

Though when I purchased some nuts at the nut place and the clerk handed me my product in a plastic bag and said, "Here's your little white nut sack," that was definitely Not Awesome:

Point: no one

But perhaps my favorite Awesome Point earned that weekend was when all the Shortlings had tired of being in the car, and traveling, and their mothers, and sitting next to each other, and the Game of Awesome in general. Monica spotted something - a large concrete elephant perhaps? - and awarded herself an Awesome Point in hopes of getting The Shortlings interested in the Game of Awesome once more and, more importantly, in hopes of her and my desire to play our most favoritist game: The Game of Shutting Up in the Car.

The Caterpillar sullenly disagreed with Monica's assessment that the Large Concrete Elephant was worthy of an Awesome Point, saying that it was not, in point of fact, Awesome.

"That's not Awesome. You don't get an Awesome Point."
*then mumbles under her breath* "You get a Boring Point."

And that earned her an Awesome Point.

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The World May Never Know

Posted on 8/31/2013 06:19:00 AM - by NG In: VA

How many clicks does it take to get one well-composed photo of your traveling party together on a cannon?

Go ask Mr. Owl.

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This Should Make an Interesting What I Did This Summer Report

Posted on 8/30/2013 05:57:00 AM - by NG In: VA

For our One Last Hurrah Before School Trip a couple of weeks ago, Monica and I took the kids to Richmond. Why? Eh. Who knows? I didn't really have a plan in mind; I just wanted out of town for a day or two.

I enjoy the Roadside America version of travel, wherein you don't really have to be anywhere at any given time and therefore can whip the car off the side of the road because you saw something cool.

While Stonewall Jackson's severed arm wasn't exactly visible from the comfort of the drivers' seat, we humans now have this thing called the Interweb on our phones and we can magically see what's in the general area even if we can't see it from the road. That's cool... unless you're a five year old, a six year old and a nine year old who couldn't care less about driving two hours out of our way to see Civil War History and just want to go swimming in the hotel pool.

Tough noogies, five year old, six year old and nine year old. You're all going to see The Arm. Some day you'll be able to tell your American History teacher that you were there. Perhaps you'll do a General Jackson Post Severed Arm pose like Monica here:

Don't worry, it'll be great.

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Lunching With the Queen

Posted on 8/29/2013 11:43:00 AM - by NG

We will probably spend more time and money at the Pennsylvania Renaissance Fair this year than is reasonable and/or prudent. We've already been once and the Shortlings each want to go back for their respective birthdays before the end this year. I'd complain about the dent in our bank account, but we have such a good time there and have made so many friends that I'm all... eh whatever. It beats planning a birthday party. Photo essay forthcoming.

I love this actor. She's so amazingly uptight and British-ish (?!), just like you'd expect a Renaissance Queen to be, but at the same time, she's fantastic with every kid that approaches her. I don't know how she strikes that balance.

They have spent the entire summer outside so these faces will probably never be more tan.

She's very big in Renaissance Pennsylvania and therefore must go incognito when in public.

Ahem...

I happened on this just as it began so I don't really have a great pic, but the man in the black had gathered all the children and had them make marshmallow guns and sling-shots with supplies he provided. Then they created a stand-off in the streets. The Queen showed up, noticed what was happening and enlisted other children to her side. Then the Great Marshmallow Battle of Renaissance Pennsylvania began and they threw marshmallows at each other until the Man in Black's side gave up and abandoned their standoff. After it was all over, everyone moved on and a man dressed as a peasant had to pick up all the marshmallows left on the streets.

This actor convinced my kids that she's lost her cat down this storm drain and enlisted their help to call for George. (There was no cat.)

Chatting with the Queen again.

And sitting down for tea.

This was the losing knight from the Jousting Tournament. The bad guy always loses, but we continually sit on the bad guy's side and cheer for him because it's way more fun. Both girls were entranced with him. Must be a nice ego boost.

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Fun with Yard Refuse

Posted on 8/26/2013 05:23:00 PM - by NG

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It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Posted on 8/24/2013 08:16:00 AM - by NG

School started Monday.

*sad horns*

By all rights, I should have been thrilled, but I've not actually been looking forward to school again this year. There are several reasons for this:

We lucked into an amazing summer camp this year (hence the reason you have seen no Camp Sweatshop posts here). It was not inexpensive but we had a decent-sized tax return this year which helped pay for it and their summer "camp" last year turned out to be more like a summer "sit in the corner of the room and play video games all day" so there was no way I was sending them back there again - it didn't matter how much. This camp turned out to be one of the most amazing experiences and after the first day any reservations I had about the cost completely disappeared. They had a great time, learned a ton, got an amazing amount of exercise, the counselors were incredible and because the activities were so varied and well-structured they had no time to complain about being bored because I wouldn't buy them an iPhone. Such a difference from last year. Now our only dilemma is how to save up enough money for next summer because I want to go too.

I don't want to start doing my homework again. Really. I had homework when I was a kid, but it was a couple of times a week or if I didn't finish what I was supposed to do in class. These kids have homework every night and while I don't actually do their homework for them, I mostly think it would be easier if I did. I hate, loathe and despise playing prison guard and making my kids sit at the table while they do their homework. That's my homework. I can't do anything myself while homework is going on, because if I want to sit down and relax a bit after a rough day, maybe turn on the television, one or both of them get out of their chairs to see what I'm watching. If I talk to someone on the phone, one or both of them get out of their chairs to insert themselves in my conversation. If I do the dishes, one or both of them get out of their chairs to run around the kitchen like cockroaches. If I try to read a book, I get interrupted with "Moooooom, what do I do noooowww?" every five minutes until I have read the same paragraph over so many times, I think I have it memorized. My homework is sitting in a chair at the table watching them do their homework. My homework is spending most of every evening redirecting one or both to JUST FINISH YOUR HOMEWORK ALREADY THEN YOU CAN DO WHATEVER IT IS YOU WANT TO DO AND NOT LISTEN TO ME TELLING YOU TO FINISH YOUR HOMEWORK. I hate my homework.

I am not looking forward to teacher drama. Already in the first week of school, I have had two phonecalls from two different teachers. They were not bad calls, both were actually looking out for my kids. But man, oh man, could you at least give me a week to settle in? At least one of the calls stemmed from a situation the teacher whom we all didn't get along with last year created for my kid by making her feel like she couldn't be successful in fifth grade. I love teachers. I empathize with teachers. They do amazing work. But they are individuals and not all of them are the best. And we have seen both sides in our short time in school. I hope this year will be better than last, but that remains to be seen.

I am not looking forward to friend drama. I don't know if it was just happenstance at camp, or if the kids were so well-programmed every day that there wasn't time to get in arguments, but between the two Shortlings there was not one incident of little girl meanies the entire summer. They both made friends. Those friends seem awesome. No one got in any fights. No one came home crying. I didn't know it was possible to live in such peace and harmony. It was glorious.

I lose an hour each day. When they were in camp, they had similar hours compared to the school year, but just because of the timing and lack of a bus, I actually got to leave the house a little bit earlier and leave work a little bit later to drop them off and pick them up. It was nice for awhile to not feel like the flake at the office who skips out before everyone else.

All the extra curriculars start up again. I realize this is my own doing. I encourage them to do dance, karate, piano.... I just wish there was a way to get them there and back with me still sitting on the couch with my feet up.

School fundraisers. If I write a check now for a hundred bucks for each kid now, will you just leave me alone for the rest of the year? Maybe I'll propose that to the PTA; I might be hoisted up on people's shoulders and given a parade.

The backpacks. They are so heavy. This year The Dormouse doesn't have a locker, so she must carry all her books all the time. I feel like hiring her a sherpa.

Soon it will get cold and I'll spend much of each arguing with them about how flip flops and booty shorts are not appropriate wear for the weather, just like I spent then better part of the month of June arguing about how your ski pants and that wool sweater would not make a good wardrobe choice for being outside in ninety degree days. When do children learn to adapt?

Give me another week or two to get used to it and I'll be okay. The Shortlings are already more optimistic than I.

I, however, had a déjà vu fear response when I got out of the shower and saw their message of optimism in the bathroom mirror.

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'Tis but a scratch!

Posted on 8/20/2013 05:08:00 PM - by NG In: VA

Those hoodlums in northern Virginia are totally out of control... but they have good taste in movies.

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Staring Down a Gargoyle

Posted on 8/19/2013 03:31:00 PM - by NG In: PA

I'd take bets on who will win, but I think we all know the gargoyle will break first.

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Perhaps I Should Plant Something Else Next Spring

Posted on 8/12/2013 11:25:00 PM - by NG In: weepy acres

Things I have made this summer starring, as a main ingredient, the tomato:

approximately three dozen jars of salsa
many, many caprese salads
a gallon of gazpacho soup
tomato feta salad
several jars of pasta sauce
tomato-watermelon sorbet
bruscetta
a half gallon of ketchup

Things I have made this summer that do not have tomatoes in them:

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If You Have to Explain It... Maybe it Still Doesn't Make Any Sense

Posted on 8/09/2013 08:09:00 PM - by NG In: Kid Jokes

Caterpillar: "Hey sister, what do you call a dog with three heads?"

Dormouse: "I don't know. What do you call a dog with three heads?"

Caterpillar: "Forrest."

Dormouse: " ... I don't get it."

Caterpillar: "Yeah, I don't really get it either."

Dormouse: "Well, where did you hear that joke?"

Caterpillar: "I made it up."

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The Blue Clear Sky

Posted on 8/04/2013 09:51:00 PM - by NG

Just a shot of the outside of the U.S. Botanical Gardens from last week. While everyone was lined up to see this, I was outside taking pictures of this:

It was just as pretty, and it smelled about the same.

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Dual Cranes

Posted on 8/02/2013 07:01:00 AM - by NG In: DC

One of my favorite things about D.C. is not all the major historical sites and monuments there, but the little-known memorials that you find peppered all over the city. You can be coming out of a drug store and wander into a statue dedicated to some group or event or person you've always head about but never knew was honored in such a way. I've lived here nearly twenty years and still find myself surprised by what was there that I didn't know about before.

I've wandered around the block near Union Station hundreds of times, but never really managed to walk through this before: the National Japanese American Memorial. I took a few minutes to stop and drink in the peace that's in this little corner of the block. It seemed rather fitting because just that morning, I had been reading about the petition to stop the FAA from blocking access to one of the internment camps.

The Japanese American Memorial to Patriotism During World War II honors those Japanese Americans who endured humiliation and rose above adversity to serve their country during one of this nation's great trials. This National Park Service site stands at the intersection of Louisiana Avenue, New Jersey Avenue and D Street, NW in Washington, D.C.

The sculpture is symbolic not only of the Japanese American experience, but of the extrication of anyone from deeply painful and restrictive circumstances. It reminds us of the battles we've fought to overcome our ignorance and prejudice and the meaning of an integrated culture, once pained and torn, now healed and unified. Finally, the monument presents the Japanese American experience as a symbol for all peoples.
The Memorial honors those members of the 100th Battalion, 442nd RCT, MIS and other units who fought with conspicuous bravery and the names of those who made the ultimate sacrifice are engraved on several of the panels. In addition, the Memorial honors those who experienced dislocation and were held in the "relocation" camps during the period 1942-1945.

Several panels are devoted to quotations from patriotic Japanese Americans and others on the importance of the Japanese American struggle for equality and redress as well as honoring those who continue to seek justice and hold the Japanese American experience as an example of triumph over adversity and reminder of dark days which must never be repeated.

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Some Bewildering Conversations Don't Involve Children

Posted on 8/01/2013 06:36:00 AM - by NG In: BCitK

Me: "When was the last time I had a tetanus shot? No reason...."

KingofHearts: "Why are you limping?"

Me: "No reason."

KoH: "Did you step on a nail while dismantling Monica's house?"

Me: "No."

KoH: "You answered kind of quickly there."

Me: *scoffing* "I didn't step on a nail..... I stepped on two."

KoH: "You two need a keeper."

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Alice's Adventures Underground

An Old Salt

God's 1st Church of Hoochie Mama

Ellie

Bewildering Conversations if You're an Older Sister

I'm Sensitive and I'd Like to Stay That Way

Love in a Farmers' Market

Dishes

The Demise of Camp Sweatshop

The Game of Awesome

The World May Never Know

This Should Make an Interesting What I Did This Summer Report

Lunching With the Queen

Fun with Yard Refuse

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

'Tis but a scratch!

Staring Down a Gargoyle

Perhaps I Should Plant Something Else Next Spring

If You Have to Explain It... Maybe it Still Doesn't Make Any Sense

The Blue Clear Sky

Dual Cranes

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