Lori,
You are certainly intriguing me with all of that. I have been on several routes to and from D.C. years ago with my kids and can't wait to experience the things you listed.
I'm getting so excited. I'm in physical therapy like crazy trying to get back to my old self by then.
Your dscriptions take me there and make even the looking forward to traveling delightful.
smile

[ May 07, 2005, 06:49 PM: Message edited by: smilinize ]

I hope Alex is excited, too! As you plan the trip, including him in some of the decision-making can go a long way toward investing him in the journey and increasing his connection to and appreciation for the whole experience.

If he lives near you, you can trace your route together on maps in highlighter, and you can tell him that you'll be calling on him to help navigate while you're on the road. "Alex, we're in Little Rock right now, heading for Memphis, and we're on Route I-40. Does that look right to you?" Even at eight, he should be able to tackle some basic map reading, especially if he's looked at the maps with you before the trip. He'll feel like a real contributor to the journey.

You can also Google up some websites he can visit to read about and see pictures of places you'll be visiting. Going to the Corvette Museum in Bowling Green? Let him cruise the museum online and pick the cars he most wants to see "in person." The Air and Space Museum in Washington? What planes or spacecraft would he most like to see? Let him research and read about the people who built or flew those craft and about their missions.

Building a child's ownership in a trip increases the likelihood that he or she will enjoy it, retain it and maybe even learn a little something.

You should be collecting good state road maps at this point. If you're a AAA member, you can get them free, along with state-specific Tour Books. State tourism offices also have good free road maps. Find state tourism offices online and order free maps and brochures to be sent by mail. (Typing something like "Virginia + tourism" will get you a list of sites, and it's easy to pick out the state's official tourist office or bureau from there.)

I've started my summer trip planning. Dana and I are going to Russia for a week. We're visiting Moscow and St. Petersburg and taking an overnight train between the two. I'm reading Harrison Salisbury's 1969 non-fiction work, "The 900 Days," about the nearly three-year Nazi siege of Leningrad. I've found that reading one good non-fiction work or a well-written historical novel can lay a good foundation for understanding a place.

And, I have to learn a little Russian. I've got two and a half months...

Gee Lori,
That's a great idea. He's only in third grade, fourth after May, but he would love that. What as great idea.
I'll definitely include him.

How exciting to hear of your going to Russia. I took a Russian literature course once. Boy what a country. Rich in heritage and tradition. tolstoy. Wow!
I am envious. I hope you will tell us great stories when you return.
smile

Hi ladies,

Dana and I are getting ready to watch the Kentucky Derby. I hear George Steinbrenner's horse is the favorite.

In honor of the event, I thought I'd share this excerpt from "Ribbons of Highway: A Mother-Child Journey Across America." Kentucky horse country was the holy grail of Dana's American road trip. Enjoy:


Closer to Lexington, redemption. Hints of green and blue. Patches, then whole pastures, of rolling, perfect grass. Grass that nurtures champions. Mare and foal pairs in love and nuzzling, savoring their time together, sunlight on their withers. Horses so beautiful you wanted to cry. Elegance and long legs and strong backs and power bred for a purpose. This was Lexington.

Dana’s dream became real, mile by white rail-fenced mile. The horses were pure majesty. I watched Adam watch Dana. I could see him decide to go with the flow and let his sister enjoy. I filled up. My daughter was in her place of a young lifetime, we were surrounded by equine beauty that took your breath away, and Adam was showing himself to be a true gentleman.

Our Lexington days were all horse. We made an eight-hour, 85-in-the-shade, no-square-inch-missed visit to Kentucky Horse Park. We went three times to Thoroughbred Park to leap among and sit atop the life-size bronze Derby contenders. We stalked a pair of Lexington cops and their chestnut mounts as they walked their Main Street beat. “The police even ride horses!” marveled Dana, as she added law enforcement to her mental list of jobs for horse lovers.


I don’t think Dana slept much the night before our dawn pilgrimage to Keeneland Racecourse to watch the morning workouts. When I whispered in her ear at 5:30 that it was time to get up, her eyes shot open, and her face beamed. We dressed quietly so we wouldn’t wake Adam, slipped out, and went downstairs for a quick breakfast before heading into the already hot Lexington pre-dawn. We were the first breakfast customers of the morning. As we passed the reception desk, I whispered to the clerk, “We’re off to Keeneland.” “Ahhhh,” she whispered back, nodding at Dana with a knowing look, telepathy transmitted from one horse lover to another. “You’ll love it.” I looked at Dana, always beautiful, and, at this moment, the most excited, gorgeous little girl on the planet.

We traced a route around venerable Keeneland along parts of the Bluegrass Driving Tour, following Rice and Van Meter and Versailles (“We say ‘ver-SALES’, not fancy like the one in France,” the night desk clerk had told me when I’d come down to ask the best route from the hotel to Keeneland.). Dana could have spent hours on these roads, each a thin, gray ribbon along which lay some of Lexington’s most storied horse farms. The pastures were lush green carpet, the architecture distinctive and utterly beautiful. Crisp lines, fresh paint, rich trim. Pristine clapboards and elegant cupolas, graceful weathervanes. Dana has an encyclopedic knowledge of everything equine and, from her reading, was more familiar with these farms than I, and her excitement as we read their names – John Ward, Drumkenny, Broodmare, Manchester, Fares - traveled like an electrical current, stirring in me a deep contentment. We pulled over by a white rail fence on a slight rise in Rice Boulevard and looked out over the pastures spreading before us, hints of blue visible in the rich grass as it waited in the low, early light for the new day to burn off the night’s dew and mist.

On Van Meter, the red trim on the outbuildings of a vast farm betrayed it as Calumet, and, as we neared its fences, from a stand of tall trees that graced a velvety grass hillock, came a line of grooms, all Latino, each man leading a stunning thoroughbred on a rope. The line of small, silent men and sinewy horses flowed down the hillock toward us, then turned left and continued, parallel to the fence and the road we watched from, keeping under the shade of the trees, then turned left again, gently ambling back up the rise toward Calumet’s stables.

At Keeneland, we stood at the rail of the fabled oval, the only spectators, and watched trainers lead horses from the misty rows of silvery stables and onto the track. Light, lean, blue-jeaned trainers, one with dreadlocks flying from under his helmet, put pounding, sweating thoroughbreds through their paces. The trainers wore helmets, and most wore chest pads. They carried crops, which they weren’t shy about using. Some stood, others crouched. Some made their horses step sideways. The men and animals took the track’s bends and straightaways at breakneck speeds. Old Joe, tall and gaunt and wrinkled, in jeans and western shirt and a helmet with a pom-pom on top, sat astride his horse, Frog. They sat at the track rail, inside and on the course, ready to go after runaways. That was their job. Joe’s eyes were peeled, and he was ready to ride Frog to the rescue of any trainer whose trainee decided he’d rather be somewhere else.

A good number of the riders took note of Dana. A little girl with a beautiful brown ponytail who’d risen before the sun to stand at the rail. Like this morning’s desk clerk, they recognized her as a kindred spirit. They smiled, waved, and slowed down when they passed so she could look longer at their horses. Dana had brought her little plastic camera, and some of the trainers posed for pictures.

One trainer with a gentle face and shining eyes assembled himself and three others into a parade formation. They passed us, four abreast, at a slow, regal posting trot, like palace guard presenting the colors before the queen, each rider smiling down at Dana. I thanked them with my eyes. That they took note and took time turned this special morning into magic. These were busy men with hard work to do. Some were watched by the horse owners who paid them, and they weren’t paid to be nice to little girls. But they were, and I’ll always remember them with fondness.

Before we left Keeneland, as the first brush of hot, higher-than-horizon sun kissed the bluegrass, we ventured into the great grandstand and sat awhile in Mr. George Goodman’s personalized box, imagining what it would be like to settle in here in the cool shade on a sunny race day to watch the horses and the other racegoers.

Adam had slept until we turned the key back in the door. “Breakfast is about to close. You’d better get down there, bud.” On this trip, I left no hotel amenity unturned, amassing a sack full of little soaps, and bottles of shampoo that I used to wash our clothes in the sink or bathtub. And, I encouraged the eating of any available free food. I looked for the magic words “Free Continental Breakfast” on motel signs. Sometimes we hit pay dirt, finding a motel that also hosted a “manager’s happy hour.” This meant free dinner, because, next to the beer and wine and soda, the manager usually laid out cheese and crackers and a big tray of crudité. The kids drew the line at raw cauliflower and broccoli, but tucked into the celery, carrots and cherry tomatoes, huge dollops of dip on the side. Sometimes pay dirt turned to mother lode, with a spread that included things like tacos and little egg rolls.

Through careful husbandry of free motel fare and a manager’s cocktail hour here and there, we were occasionally able to patch together a string of five free meals in a row: free breakfast at Motel 1; free lunch of apples, bagels and peanut butter (cream cheese for Dana) spirited from Motel 1 breakfast spread; free dinner from Motel 2 happy hour; free breakfast at Motel 2; free lunch spirited from Motel 2 breakfast spread.

By meal number six, we were ready for a restaurant, and we always voted unanimously on type: Mexican. (Curiously, we’d eat our worst Mexican food in Texas and our best in North Dakota.)

Dana and I accompanied Adam down to the breakfast bar. “So, how was it?” he asked, of our visit to Keeneland. He asked Dana, directly. I wanted to hug him over his plate of biscuits and gravy. As she wove a tale of the magic kingdom of Keeneland, Adam listened and chewed. While it was clear he thought Keeneland sounded cool – he said, “Okay” a few times as Dana talked – I knew he didn’t feel he’d missed anything. Dana preferred horses, he preferred sleep. He was content they’d both gotten what they most wanted from the morning.

That night, while I worked on my first installment for the newspaper, Dana was writing her own story, “Horse Capital of the World.” It begins: “In the heart of Lexington, Kentucky, lies a beauty like no other…”

~~~~~~~~~~~
Fifty minutes to post time. May the best horse win.

www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/1591134536/

You make me want to return to Europe!

We attended the Derby for many years. My favorite was the year I won $8000! What a mindblower that was!

It was my husband who got me interested in traveling. My favorite spot so far is St. Tropez and mainly because of the food we ate while there. I kind of liked the nude sunbathers too!

My sister married a man from France and they currently go between Paris and Provence. You might want to check out her website:
www.lindamathieu.com She's a wonderful photographer.

So glad you're here and sharing your exciting travels.

Yikes! $8000! That would pay for a few trips to St. Tropez! What horse did you bet on, Dianne, when you scored that payout? Longshot Giacomo won last night with 50 to 1 odds. I don't really understand the betting, and Adam wasn't around last night to explain it to me (again). The kid's a whiz when it comes to poker and anything else involving stakes and betting. We took the kids to Saratoga (Saratoga Springs, New York) for a day at the races last summer. I focused on the women all gussied up like dolls, Dana took pictures of the horses and jockeys in the paddock, and Mike placed bets for Adam, who somehow managed to win $35.

The south of France is a stunning part of the planet, and I know what you mean about the food being part of the experience. It's so fresh and sparkling, it just seems to come alive when it hits your tongue. Sipping a crisp white wine and eating dazzling seafood while gazing at the Mediterranean, sun on your shoulders ... ahhh. We explored the stretch of the Cote d'Azur from Nice to the Italian border (and then spent a week on the Italian Riviera -- equally amazing). We based ourselves in Menton, a city of ochre and olive-colored houses that march up a mountainside overlooking the sea. We took day trips up into the villages perches (sorry, I can't put the accent aigue over the "e"), the white, "perched" villages in the hills above the sea. (Go World Travel Magazine will be running a story I wrote about the hill towns. It's coming out in either the June or July issue, and I'll share the link on my travel blog, http://RibbonsofHighway.blogspot.com when it comes out.)

I visited Linda's blog, Dianne. What an exciting life she must be leading. I plan to go back and spend more time reading her entries (and her son's -- he's got a site, too.). And she is a marvelous photographer. I often link to good travel blogs from my blog, so I may add Linda's site to a post or to my sidebar.

Happy Mother's Day to all of you who fit that description. After church, I'll share a little bit of Mother's Day humor I found in my emailbox this morning.

I bet on Charismatic. All three of my picks showed up and my husband boxed them for me so that's how I won so much. Actually, I bet on all the races that day and won all but one! I was always good at picking the horses until people started asking me how I did it and when I tried to analyze it, the magic stopped. I don't study stats but watch how the horse and rider connect during the parade. That's so important.

We toured Italy a few years ago. Went to Tuscany and ended up in Allasio (sp?). I wasn't a fan of the food in Italy. However, we left there and went to Monte Carlo and Monico and what a gas that was! Even went into the "James Bond" casino and gambled a bit but it's so stuffy. I got a kick out of their toilets. Rotating toilet seats that covered themselves in sanitizer.

We took our grown children to St. Tropez one year. Rented a villa that overlooked the bay and it was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life and the kids too. Something I'll never forget.

My sister does English speaking tours in Paris and Provence and is doing quite well. If you get a chance, look at the Provence section on her site and check out the darling house they built. A doll house. I'm sure she'd love to hear from you. Tell her that her much younger sister sent you!

So glad you are posting about your many travels. It's fascinating.

[ May 08, 2005, 11:12 AM: Message edited by: Dianne ]

Okay, that quick dose of Mother's Day humor I promised. And later, after I go for a run to help remove the mounds of Mother's Day French toast smothered in syrup and powdered sugar that I just inhaled, I'll chat more about Dianne's last post and share a link to a great villa rental company that we've used in the past. Dianne's brought up a great topic -- renting a house/apartment in a foreign country -- and it's something I'd like to chat more about. "Renting a villa" sounds like it's only for the well-to-do, but it ain't necessarily so (especially in the off season). More later.

First, the Mother's Day fun. My sister sent this to me this morning. It's been making the email rounds. I don't know who the original author is, so we'll give the byline to "Anonymous:"

"Why God made moms" - Answers given by 2nd grade school children to the following questions:

Why did God make mothers?

1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.


How did God make mothers?

1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.


What ingredients are mothers made of?

1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men's bones. Then they mostly use string, I think.

Why did God give you your mother and not some other mom?

1. We're related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's moms like me.


What kind of little girl was your mom?

1. My mom has always been my mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.


What did mom need to know about dad before she married him?

1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?


Why did your Mom marry your dad?

1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats alot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn't have her thinking cap on.


Who's the boss at your house?

1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dad's such a goofball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.


What's the difference between moms and dads?

1. Moms work at work and work at home, & dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller & stronger, but moms have all the real power 'cause that's who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend's. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.


What does your Mom do in her spare time?

1. Mothers don't do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.


What would it take to make your Mom perfect?

1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I'd diet, maybe blue.


If you could change one thing about your Mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that.
2. I'd make my Mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on her back of her head.

Talk later, Lori

Another quick Mother's Day-themed post before the sun sets on the holiday -- Iparenting.com published this in its Traveling Today department, and I'm sure many of you will be able to relate to this "when did my kid grow up? (because I certainly haven't gotten any older)" moment:

http://ribbonsofhighway.blogspot.com/2005/02/santa-rosa-new-mexico-eyeball-to.html

So much to talk about -- and topics I want to get back to, like safety, villa rentals, traveling with kids and grandkids, things to see in D.C.. And, I do want to answer a question that smilinize asked in an early post about my most memorable adventure. I've got a story for you, and it takes place in Tibet...

Dianne, I am very intrigued by your sister's success at running an English-language tour business in Provence and Paris. I'd say she has the dream job. I'll definitely link to her blog in a future "France post" on my blog. And, I will get in touch with her and tell her that you sent me.

I see you are a domestic violence survivor and activist. Kudos for being strong enough to get out, move on and help educate others about the issue. Have you ever heard of the White Ribbon Society, an international organization that began in Canada with the mission to stir men to action against any type of violence against women? I wrote an article about a year ago about a men's church group here in my town that hosts a White Ribbon campaign and pledge night every year. Their goal is to gather the men and boys in our town, share stories about the impact of abuse, and to have them take a pledge stating that they will not tolerate violence against women and will speak out publicly against it. I'll try to dig up a link to that story (but given its age, the link may be dead).

I hope everyone's day is going well. It's a gloomy Mother's Day here in Boston, but sun is promised for tomorrow. (Hey, there's a song in there somewhere...)

I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying this thread!

Yep, I'm a survivor/thriver and happily so. No, I haven't heard of the White Ribbon Org. but would love to know more about it. So glad men are now becoming involved.

I'd also like to discuss safety while traveling. The young foreign children in France are the ones you have to watch out for!