Am I (in) Wicked? Not so much
Written by Uncle George: May 1, 1907
Lunch on the train--eggs, cookies, prunes etc. Made a view of Quincy while waiting for the train. On to the boat without a moment's delay. Mississippi River. A new experience for me. Arrived in Nauvoo. Went to bed at hotel about one and half miles uptown.
Val: May 1, 2013
I had a couple hash browns and imported grapes from Chili for breakfast. I would have preferred some prunes because I live like an old lady most days, but they weren't on the menu.
And if you have ever driven through Chillicothe, Wheeling, Kearney, Hamilton, and Marceline to name just a few, you would know that just finding hash browns is a feat in itself. Humanitarians would call this stretch of land a "food desert."
We are not in Independence anymore, Toto.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Welcome to rural Missouri.
The Grand River-- flooded.
Wheeling is the home of the Girls State Basketball Champions... in 1975.
No cell service.
I saw chickens running around in someone's front yard....in Kansas City. A yard that should now be listed as an honorable mention in "Rural Landscaping in the City for Dummies."
I saw Jim Saccaro lives in Brookfield, which means nothing to anyone except his family I suppose. Well, them and me. His nephew, Nicholas, is a great guy and seeing their last name makes me instantly smile.
Marceline is the boyhood home of Walt Disney. His dad owned the butcher store. Main Street Disneyland looks just like Main Street Marceline. The Great Locomotive Chase cartoon is a shout out to the rail road that runs through town.
I am also a fan of Marceline because it has a Sonic, home of scrumptious lemonade with real strawberries. Something I could not get if I were on had traveled by train like you.
And you also know, besides liking a good lemonade when I am in the mood, I like to take the scenic byways. One this trip was Hannibal, MO.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know Hannibal.
I hadn't been there before BUT when I was in the 6th grade, I was cast as Aunt Polly in the Tom Sawyer play/movie. I had to sing. I had to dance. I was videoed, which it really is a true crime that no one knows where that bad boy video ended up....not.
Pat M., the kid who had a significant identity crisis and lacking some serious tethering to reality in regards to the fact that he thought he was Arthur Fonzerelli (aka The Fonz), was Tom. And it is a sad tale to report that he grew up to have a not-so-settled story and that his Fonzie years were, unfortunately, his best.
I had a pink gingham dress, complete with shawl, and they made me wear a scratchy, grey wig. And spectacles. I loved that dress but hated it, too, because you couldn't wear a bra with it. Not that I had much concern in that particular area, but I always felt immodest without knowing what it was called. I was so uncomfortable about it as a matter of fact, that when they filmed our part of the movie, I had the teacher make everyone leave the room so they wouldn't see me. I guess that is a the price of payment when you pick the only girl with a gingham dress in town to play the part.
I didn't see too much gingham print when I saw the "Wicked" play last week. Which the end of the first act...holy hannah. I didn't get to fly up into the sky in my play. Now I know why I didn't make it to Broadway. Stupid flying.
Since Hannibal and I had met before in 1981 in the music room of Soldotna Elementary, I decided to have a snack and enjoy it's feeling. A little picnic on the Mississippi River. Yep, it was nice. Yep, it was quiet. Yep, I bought a Japanese teacup to remember my time because nothing evokes a nice memory of Hannibal, Missouri like a teacup made in Japan during WW2.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On to Quincy.
Just when you think it is not possible to stuff another moment's fun into this day filled with no internet, wait! There's more!
Quincy doesn't look like it has changed much. A little dirtier.
But I do have a good Holy Ghost story.
I was driving around looking for your picture place. You would not think that it would be hard to find the highest point in a town of about 413 folks, but it was. Street after street I could not find the space I should be. And I knew it.
Sometimes, even I am not too dense to know when to pull the car over to ask for help from Heavenly Father. So I did. His voice told me to drive north two streets and turn left. I did and came to some screwy T weirdness in the road. His voice told me to keep going west, even though the T was not very inviting.
Sure enough. There is was. The park and its entrance I needed.
For some reason, this photograph made the mission real. That we literally were standing in the same place. The same day. I know it sounds dumb, but today it was real. And I cried.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nauvoo, the Beautiful.
It really is, you know. Beautiful.
A flowing creek waterfall welcomes you town.
You turn a hilly corner, and you are greeted by the temple.
A pioneer history complex.
What is not beautiful about these things?
The sun was going down and I had an urgency to get as many shots as I could. I was basically running from place to place with no explainable reason. "Why run, Val?" I said to myself. I have three more days here. Why run?
The flowers were gorgeous.
The temple was gorgeous.
After sunset, I had myself some real food (see ya, hashbrowns).
While the day was long and weird, I think my hotel selection was my favorite thing. It was in the Hotel Nauvoo.
So what you say? It used to be called The Oriental Hotel....the same hotel you stayed in. :)
(but let's be real, there isn't a single oriental person, place or thing within about 300 miles from here)
Obviously they wanted to keep it as authentic as when the pioneers were there...because there was no internet. For four days. FOUR days. Four DAYS.
It looks like it is going to be a long, isolated four days. But you survived, so I know I can.
With, or without, some prunes. :)
Love
Valsy
Lunch on the train--eggs, cookies, prunes etc. Made a view of Quincy while waiting for the train. On to the boat without a moment's delay. Mississippi River. A new experience for me. Arrived in Nauvoo. Went to bed at hotel about one and half miles uptown.
Val: May 1, 2013
I had a couple hash browns and imported grapes from Chili for breakfast. I would have preferred some prunes because I live like an old lady most days, but they weren't on the menu.
And if you have ever driven through Chillicothe, Wheeling, Kearney, Hamilton, and Marceline to name just a few, you would know that just finding hash browns is a feat in itself. Humanitarians would call this stretch of land a "food desert."
We are not in Independence anymore, Toto.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Welcome to rural Missouri.
Wheeling is the home of the Girls State Basketball Champions... in 1975.
No cell service.
I saw Jim Saccaro lives in Brookfield, which means nothing to anyone except his family I suppose. Well, them and me. His nephew, Nicholas, is a great guy and seeing their last name makes me instantly smile.
Marceline is the boyhood home of Walt Disney. His dad owned the butcher store. Main Street Disneyland looks just like Main Street Marceline. The Great Locomotive Chase cartoon is a shout out to the rail road that runs through town.
I am also a fan of Marceline because it has a Sonic, home of scrumptious lemonade with real strawberries. Something I could not get if I were on had traveled by train like you.
No lemonade in sight
And you also know, besides liking a good lemonade when I am in the mood, I like to take the scenic byways. One this trip was Hannibal, MO.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know Hannibal.
I hadn't been there before BUT when I was in the 6th grade, I was cast as Aunt Polly in the Tom Sawyer play/movie. I had to sing. I had to dance. I was videoed, which it really is a true crime that no one knows where that bad boy video ended up....not.
Pat M., the kid who had a significant identity crisis and lacking some serious tethering to reality in regards to the fact that he thought he was Arthur Fonzerelli (aka The Fonz), was Tom. And it is a sad tale to report that he grew up to have a not-so-settled story and that his Fonzie years were, unfortunately, his best.
I had a pink gingham dress, complete with shawl, and they made me wear a scratchy, grey wig. And spectacles. I loved that dress but hated it, too, because you couldn't wear a bra with it. Not that I had much concern in that particular area, but I always felt immodest without knowing what it was called. I was so uncomfortable about it as a matter of fact, that when they filmed our part of the movie, I had the teacher make everyone leave the room so they wouldn't see me. I guess that is a the price of payment when you pick the only girl with a gingham dress in town to play the part.
I didn't see too much gingham print when I saw the "Wicked" play last week. Which the end of the first act...holy hannah. I didn't get to fly up into the sky in my play. Now I know why I didn't make it to Broadway. Stupid flying.
Since Hannibal and I had met before in 1981 in the music room of Soldotna Elementary, I decided to have a snack and enjoy it's feeling. A little picnic on the Mississippi River. Yep, it was nice. Yep, it was quiet. Yep, I bought a Japanese teacup to remember my time because nothing evokes a nice memory of Hannibal, Missouri like a teacup made in Japan during WW2.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On to Quincy.
Just when you think it is not possible to stuff another moment's fun into this day filled with no internet, wait! There's more!
Quincy doesn't look like it has changed much. A little dirtier.
But I do have a good Holy Ghost story.
I was driving around looking for your picture place. You would not think that it would be hard to find the highest point in a town of about 413 folks, but it was. Street after street I could not find the space I should be. And I knew it.
Sometimes, even I am not too dense to know when to pull the car over to ask for help from Heavenly Father. So I did. His voice told me to drive north two streets and turn left. I did and came to some screwy T weirdness in the road. His voice told me to keep going west, even though the T was not very inviting.
Sure enough. There is was. The park and its entrance I needed.
For some reason, this photograph made the mission real. That we literally were standing in the same place. The same day. I know it sounds dumb, but today it was real. And I cried.
Only the General saw my tears.
Nauvoo, the Beautiful.
It really is, you know. Beautiful.
A flowing creek waterfall welcomes you town.
You turn a hilly corner, and you are greeted by the temple.
A pioneer history complex.
What is not beautiful about these things?
The sun was going down and I had an urgency to get as many shots as I could. I was basically running from place to place with no explainable reason. "Why run, Val?" I said to myself. I have three more days here. Why run?
The flowers were gorgeous.
The temple was gorgeous.
The sunset was gorgeous.
After sunset, I had myself some real food (see ya, hashbrowns).
While the day was long and weird, I think my hotel selection was my favorite thing. It was in the Hotel Nauvoo.
So what you say? It used to be called The Oriental Hotel....the same hotel you stayed in. :)
(but let's be real, there isn't a single oriental person, place or thing within about 300 miles from here)
Obviously they wanted to keep it as authentic as when the pioneers were there...because there was no internet. For four days. FOUR days. Four DAYS.
It looks like it is going to be a long, isolated four days. But you survived, so I know I can.
With, or without, some prunes. :)
Love
Valsy
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