Rediscovering, Part 1

When I was little, when my first real memories begin, at the early elementary age, we lived in a tiny little town in central Pennsylvania called Tyrone.  It's near Altoona.  Tyrone's big claims to fame were that it was the home of Gardner's Candies (creators of the peanut butter meltaway, yummmm)

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and the home of bandleader/musician/radio personality Fred Waring.

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There was a Fred Waring Day each year in Tyrone, though I don't for the life of me remember what anyone did to observe it.  There was a paper factory that stunk up the town on occasion and I remember two parks, Soldiers Park which memorialized fallen soldiers from Tyrone, and Reservoir Park where the annual Easter Egg Hunt was held.  I remember going to Soldiers Park on a school field trip.

When I was in third grade, we moved back to a suburb of Philadelphia (I was born in that area too).  When you live there, your school field trips are all to Philly museums and historical sites.  Which is a lucky thing, obviously.  Except when you're a kid, you don't see it like that.  Instead, you whine, because, well, you're a kid and you're good at whining.

"We're going to the Art Museum again?"

"We went to Betsy Ross' house in second grade."

"Yeah.  It's the Liberty Bell.  Seen it."

When you're young, you really don't appreciate the treasures around you, especially if they are relatively easily accessible.  As I grew older, I didn't visit many of these places.  When I could, I'd hit the Jersey shore or if I was really lucky, see a show in NYC.  My little world was broadening and I didn't want to see the same old museums; I wanted to see what else there was to see out there.

Broadway - New York City



My Philly suburb was still pretty city-like, and I always wanted to live somewhere a little quieter, so I went to a teeny tiny college whose entire student body was about the size of my high school graduating class, and then Handsome Hubs and I ended up settling down in a small town (which I love love love).  I laugh because TR's school field trips have been to the local museum of our town, local farms, the ice cream shop, the pizza parlor, and once a year they go somewhere bigger like the Philly Zoo or the Franklin Institute.  But Philly is an hour away, so those trips are a big deal, not like when I was a kid.  She loves to go.  This past summer, when Tootsie Roll was about to turn eight, we took her to Washington, D.C. because she really wanted to see the landmarks she was learning about in school, in particular the Lincoln Memorial.

(I won't tell you about how Curly Jones scooted under that little chain there and ran up the steps, screaming in three year old glee.)  We saw most of the major landmarks in D.C. and went to several of the Smithsonian museums.  We hadn't planned on going into the Smithsonian Art Museum; however, because I thought we might get thrown out  the three year old I mentioned above isn't exactly the most sedate, art-appreciative type just yet.  But we went in by accident, thinking it was the Museum of Natural History (which we eventually found next door).

Anyway, where is this story going?  When we went into the Art Museum by accident, Tootsie Roll was instantly entranced.  Amazed.  In awe.  She pulled out a little notebook I had given her to keep her busy on the drive from NJ to D.C. and began taking notes.

(Did you know you can take pictures in art museums?  You can!  At least in D.C. and Philly).  We couldn't stay as long as we would have liked since someone little was a bit less entranced, but it reminded me of all of the treasures I had at my fingertips growing up.  So over Christmas break, we dropped CJ off at preschool one day and took TR to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which is only about an hour away from where we live now in New Jersey.

It was amazing to rediscover a place I'd been so many times as a kid and probably never really appreciated the way she did on her first visit.  Part 2 with pictures coming soon!



Me:   These are famous steps.  Rocky ran up these steps in the movie!

TR:  Rocky who?