By the time July rolled around, we were
over being without power. Every day the target power-restoration date seemed to get pushed further back. Though we had considered making a trip down to Cincinnati for the Fourth of July and the World Choir Games which followed, we hadn't fully committed to taking the whole family. If we needed a nudge, a week without power was it. A few nights in a hotel started to sound
really nice. We packed up and made some reservations--some slightly fancier reservations than we might have otherwise. And then guess what? The power came back on an hour before we left! This might have been annoying, except that it relieved us of the responsibility of having people come in to run a generator for us every day . . . and the attendant risk of blowing our house up.
After three hours of driving,
Red, White, and Blue Ash was everything we remembered it being--except that it had grown. So many people were in attendance that they moved it from the lovely grassy field where we used to enjoy it to a sweltering concrete parking complex across the street. Still, an evening of watching the sun set behind Huey Lewis and the News--who could complain about that? We sang our hearts out, danced (except for those of us too middle-school aged to make fools of ourselves), and waxed nostalgic about the 80s. Rozzi's famous fireworks did not disappoint, launching their spectacle for half an hour at least, all brilliantly choreographed to music. I've seen plenty of fireworks in my life (including the showstoppers in Boston and New York on TV) and I honestly don't think any of them they have a thing on Cincinnati. We straggled back to our hotel after the glittering finale, only to be treated to complimentary chocolate chip cookies on our arrival--somebody obviously knew how to win over this family.
Over the next several days, we took advantage of many opportunities to drop in on concerts being held for the World Choir Games (the largest international choral competition in the world, held in the US for the first time this year). With free events being held in many of Cincinnati's wonderful venues every day, we caught performances by choirs from everywhere from China and Hungary to New Zealand and Namibia. A few of our favorites included a concert in the Cincinnati Art Museum by a children's choir from Japan, who sang some American folk-songs in Japanese--our kids delighted at hearing the familiar melodies accompanied by unfamiliar words; a concert in the new Underground Railroad Museum featuring a Namibian youth choir that incorporated so much movement and body percussion in their songs--their singing was especially touching as we learned that the choir members had to leave their families to train and perform so that they could then send money back to support them; and a Danish choir that we had heard a couple of years ago when we visited Denmark for the International Federation of Choral Conductors conference. Aaron also loved having the chance to connect with university choir from Stellenbosch University in South Africa whose conductor he had been communicating with for several months about potentially visiting in the future. Of course, Aaron had a pass to get into many of the ticketed events as well as the free concerts, which left the rest of us a bit of lag time during the days, which we put to good use. What else could I use it for besides jamming still more education and culture into my children (because surely listening to Bach and Brahms at all the concerts wouldn't be enough)? Did you think maybe I might have drifted off-message from our summer theme for a few minutes? Not even.
On one of the mornings, I looked up a pioneer village nearby that offered tours, and despite the sweltering heat (in high-humidity Cincinnati we were registering temperatures of over 100 almost every day), we showed up enthusiastically (at least one of us did) to get a taste of what life was like for pioneers over 100 years ago. We visited an old printing press, a small-town church, a doctor's office, a general store, several houses dating from between 1806 and 1910, and even an early railroad station, all shown to us by a lovely tour guide dressed in full pioneer garb (which pretty much snuffed any heat complaints the kids might have had). It was all so cool--except for how hot it was! During all our driving down time, I played the books on CD I had brought along:
Farmer Boy and
On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder. I don't think they got quite as into the stories as I did, but don't you think these kids will so appreciate me in like 20 years? Besides that little adventure, we visited several old churches and government buildings downtown (especially those built before 1820), spent a morning with the butterflies at the Krohn Conservatory, and the kids got my very own special tour through the Art Museum, emphasizing the wonderful early American collection that is held there. Sometimes I wonder if I am enjoying having children old enough to listen to me spout history at them a little too much.
Between adventures, we enjoyed a couple of visits to the UDF creamery for ice cream (I'm afraid that I've established a sort of tradition that on any day I decree it during the summer, ice cream can be substituted for lunch--so far the kids haven't fought me on that one at all), and one evening we had the chance to indulge in some Dewey's Pizza out at Newport on the Levee. We were also treated to something fun to eat almost every time we came back to our hotel. One night there were gourmet cupcakes, and on another there were pizza and soda waiting for us. We felt pretty much like rock-stars chilling in our fancy room (it even had a fold-out couch, so nobody was on the floor) and getting reacquainted with the local news teams in Cincy. We were sad to let our Cincinnati adventures end, because it is a city that will always be close to our hearts. It was especially sad that we weren't able to stay until Sunday to attend church with friends, but the way our hotel reservations and our responsibilities back home worked out, we had to be back before Sunday.
Back at home, life settled into the kind of delicious routine that can only happen in the summer--feeding fish, runs around the neighborhood (my favorite way to welcome a summer morning), scooter rides, pick up games of soccer, and all that good stuff. Theo found his way into an organized activity or two, discovering an awesome baseball league that was practically free except for t-shirt and ball-cap purchase, and somehow wandering into the lead role in a Harry Potter spoof play put on by a local theatre company. I had received an audition notice for the play early in the summer, but had thought our summer was probably too unpredictable to commit to a rehearsal schedule. However, a friend of Theo's auditioned, and when they gave her a role, the director said that the cast was all assembled except for Harry Potter, and asked if she knew anybody who might be able to fill the part. Since she had been in the fifth-grade play with Theo, and knew of his love of Harry Potter (not to mention his unruly hair), she suggested him. Theo actually took the initiative to call and talk to the director, landing the part on the basis of a phone call and a very low-key audition. It turned out to be the perfect thing for him--he rehearses three evenings a week, and has been surprisingly quick at learning his lines--all 300 of them! We are all looking forward to seeing the performances next month.
Well, with music camps past and plenty of work to do but none of it on a tight schedule, I worked it into my brain that we needed another little vacation. We had really hoped and planned to take a trip out west this summer, but given the prohibitive cost with our current income, we had to nix that idea until later. Being posessed of wanderlust as I am, I couldn't resist the appeal of a serious camping trip. With minimal costs other than food and gas, I planned first and pursuaded Aaron second. It took a while, since he was already feeling the new school year looming over him, but somehow seeing it already planned out made getting to yes a little easier. We packed up the van and headed for another pioneer adventure in Nauvoo, Illinois.
If ever there was a place to get our pioneer on, Nauvoo is it. The town has been restored as much as possible to the state it was in before the Mormon saints were driven from the city in 1846. During its heyday, Nauvoo rivaled Chicago in size, and was home to many successful businesses. It was awesome to see how people worked and played 150 years ago, and we enjoyed having the opportunity to learn about the many trades that people made their livelihoods by during the time period, including visits to sites and workshops where we could learn about the way things were done back then. We especially enjoyed a visit to the Family Life center, where we learned all about how rope was made from the fibers of the sisal plant, how bread was baked in brick ovens, how wool was carded and spun into yarn that was then woven on looms, how candles were made by dipping long wicks of string into boiled animal fat (called tallow), how household pottery was made from local clay, and how "coopers" made their barrels watertight--it was amazing to not only see the crafts themselves, but also the elderly missionary couples who had learned how to do the work so they could demonstrate it to visitors. There were also visits to a brick-kiln which was once one of the most prolific in the country, a blacksmith's shop where we all walked away with a horseshoe nail fashioned into a "prairie diamond ring," a bakery, and an old-time general store that can't have been much different from the ones described by Laura Ingalls Wilder in the
Little House books that we continued to listen to throughout our trip. We had opportunities to take a tour in a horse-drawn wagon, and to hop up behind a pair of oxen to experience the real "covered wagon" travel that must have been such a big part of prairie life many years ago. In the evenings we enjoyed wonderful (and free!) performances that ranged from meetinghouse plays to the Nauvoo Pageant, a large scale production that families travel from all over to participate in. Aaron and I had attended a similar pageant in Palmyra, New York several years ago, and were delighted to find that the LDS church has upgraded the performances from hodge-podge affairs assembled by local groups to seamless productions incorporating mostly quotes from the writings of the pioneers and saints that lived in the area during the time period, accompanied by arrangements of hymns that were in circulation at the time--the authenticity made the show quite moving, and two of our four kids reported that it was their favorite part of the trip (both the younger kids fell asleep toward the end).
By the time we wandered back home again, well-fed on campfire food and s'mores, reacquainted with the stars and crickets, we had begun to reconsider our need for electricity and all the trappings of modern society at least a little. Having the opportunity to put ourselves in the shoes of those who gave so much, and were willing to build and rebuild and rebuild again--as many times as they were forced from their homes by angry mobs or unfair politics--gave us a new appreciation for the luxury of security, but also just the tiniest hint of envy for the skills and self-reliance that can only come through creating life anew wherever you might be planted. As we forge forward in our year, I hope that we can accept whatever challenges may be thrust upon us with the same dignity and determination that defined the pioneers who were evicted from Nauvoo--though they knew they would never see their homes again, they did not fail to sweep their floors and shut their doors against the storms that followed them out.
