There comes a time when a family needs more than city cement, incredible restaurants and burlesque shows to survive. That day has come.
So we decided to go family road tripping to the country. Bucks County, PA or bust – or maybe a brief stop because Dylan has to poop.
Buck’s County is quaint and countryish (It is too a word! Or at least sort of a word.) and green and awesome.
We saw a “Duck’s Crossing” sign. No ducks but the sign itself was really enough of a thrill.
At one point, Rick and I had a conversation that went like this…
Me: That woman we just passed was doing some kind of interesting gesture with her hand. Did she want us to pull over or something?
Rick: I think it was a wave. I think everyone here just waves at each other.
Me: A wave? I love that.
And we picked berries! Lots and lots of berries.
Dylan loved it. And Summer…
Oh crap. Someone wake up Summer. She’s missing our country adventure! Just like her to nod off during the fabulous blueberry and raspberry picking. If she thinks she can just take a long snooze and then eat our hard earned berries without lifting one baby finger in the hot Pennsylvania sun – well, she’s probably right about that.
And then we ate ice cream! And pizza! The pizza tasted much more charming and far less greasy in the lovely surroundings.
I even had a hankering to peruse and purchase antiques, although I am not really into that sort of old, dusty furniture thing. If you adore antiques, please substitute, “beautifully preserved and crafted treasures” for “old, dusty furniture.”
Frankly, I was completely swept up in the fresh air euphoria until the trip back to Manhattan.
Since my dad came along and it gets very tight between the two car seats, one of us had to sit in the WAY back. And boy does it make your arse hurt to hang out back there for extended periods of time.
I kind of felt like the family dog or like Rick’s smuggling me across state lines. And no, my kids aren’t on drugs. They are just so very tired and watching the DVD player.
Apparently, we didn’t tucker my dad out enough because the next morning, he was willing to go to his first yoga class ever with me.
Here he is practicing his downward dogs before the class…
He was pretty damn good for an inexperienced 65 year-old yogi. Then he left to catch the Amtrak train back to his home in Cape Cod.
As the train pulled out of Penn Station, he texted me, “This downward dog has left the station.”
I wished him a peaceful, kid-free, zen ride home.
mama bird notes
Sandrine won the boys’ baby giveaway!! Congrats Sandrine. Send me your address and I will mail these goodies off to you.