Amish country
This weekend, my family -- all 18 of us -- descended on a resort in Lancaster, PA.
I feel compelled to mention here that I visited a college in the Lancaster area during the spring of my junior year in high school, and my mom and I -- who both have a pretty keen sense of smell -- spent the whole tour nearly choking on the smell of manure, and fairly quickly determined that this school and I were not such a good fit, particularly when Mom summoned the courage to ask our student tour guide, "Wow, does it always smell like this?" and he said, straight-faced, "Like what?"
So anyway, we landed back in Lancaster on Friday, and it struck me how much things have changed since the last family vacation, which first of all took place in Bermuda, so...Lancaster?
During our last family getaway in 2001, there were three grandkids, plus two in utero, and I was the only kid who was flying partnerless on the trip (Smelmooo and I had just started dating, and at that point he had only met one sister and brother-in-law, so clearly was not ready for a weeklong family vacation, although everyone knew of him and sent a postcard signed by the lot of them), so I bunked with my mom and dad in their little cottage, and spent a good deal of time in the pool and on the beach with my nieces and nephew during the day, and then at night the grown-ups hung out talking and drinking in the much-bigger cottage that my sister and brother were sharing with their families, which was about halfway between my parents' place and our remaining siblings' shared cottage.
So, Lancaster, two parents, five kids with spouses, six grandkids aged 2-8, plus one in utero, in more of a standard hotel set-up, but a resorty hotel with lots of pools (only one outdoor) and pony rides and a petting zoo and stuff for the kids. It was quite a kid-friendly place, from the no-one-over-age-16 waterslide to the smorgasbord (we saw and used that word a LOT in Lancaster; it's a little less haughty -- and, in this case, a little more honest -- than "buffet") of fried food and endless desserts in the hotel restaurants; it was a bit less friendly to the DINKs (that's Double Income, No Kids, for those not in the know) in our crew. But it was good to spend time with everyone, and to see the kids so excited to play with their cousins in the pool and talking about the horse-and-buggy ride they took around the resort, and on Saturday night a subgroup of the grown-ups left the (dry) hotel to venture into a nearby town that permitted alcohol, and had a lovely time at a neat little uncrowded bar with darts (I played and lost; so much for crossing another one off of my 101 in 1001 this weekend...) and pool (I watched).
Finally, on Sunday, we awoke to find a special offer slid under our door: Check out by 9, get $10 to spend in the onsite bakery. Woohoo! Smelmooo got his shoofly pie, and we got Dutch pretzels and chocolate chip cookies for 7 cents altogether.
So not a bad trip, and nice to lie around and read in the sun and have down time with the fam, but I think my favorite part might have been on the way home. Smelmooo and I went outlet shopping not in any of the dozens of outlets advertised near Lancaster -- including one that was the site of the first national shoofly-pie-eating contest on Saturday -- but closer to home, just because we were craving familiarity by that point, plus we figured traffic would be worse later in the day. Anyway, I got a pair of jeans at the Gap outlet that fit super-well and, if I may be so bold, make my butt look really cute (although the pockets are kind of funny, but oh well), which made my day, and then I finally got a belt, which made the Smelmooo's day.
So, a fine weekend overall, but we were very happy to be back to our house and our puppy, who was exhausted from his own weekend resort experience.
I feel compelled to mention here that I visited a college in the Lancaster area during the spring of my junior year in high school, and my mom and I -- who both have a pretty keen sense of smell -- spent the whole tour nearly choking on the smell of manure, and fairly quickly determined that this school and I were not such a good fit, particularly when Mom summoned the courage to ask our student tour guide, "Wow, does it always smell like this?" and he said, straight-faced, "Like what?"
So anyway, we landed back in Lancaster on Friday, and it struck me how much things have changed since the last family vacation, which first of all took place in Bermuda, so...Lancaster?
During our last family getaway in 2001, there were three grandkids, plus two in utero, and I was the only kid who was flying partnerless on the trip (Smelmooo and I had just started dating, and at that point he had only met one sister and brother-in-law, so clearly was not ready for a weeklong family vacation, although everyone knew of him and sent a postcard signed by the lot of them), so I bunked with my mom and dad in their little cottage, and spent a good deal of time in the pool and on the beach with my nieces and nephew during the day, and then at night the grown-ups hung out talking and drinking in the much-bigger cottage that my sister and brother were sharing with their families, which was about halfway between my parents' place and our remaining siblings' shared cottage.
So, Lancaster, two parents, five kids with spouses, six grandkids aged 2-8, plus one in utero, in more of a standard hotel set-up, but a resorty hotel with lots of pools (only one outdoor) and pony rides and a petting zoo and stuff for the kids. It was quite a kid-friendly place, from the no-one-over-age-16 waterslide to the smorgasbord (we saw and used that word a LOT in Lancaster; it's a little less haughty -- and, in this case, a little more honest -- than "buffet") of fried food and endless desserts in the hotel restaurants; it was a bit less friendly to the DINKs (that's Double Income, No Kids, for those not in the know) in our crew. But it was good to spend time with everyone, and to see the kids so excited to play with their cousins in the pool and talking about the horse-and-buggy ride they took around the resort, and on Saturday night a subgroup of the grown-ups left the (dry) hotel to venture into a nearby town that permitted alcohol, and had a lovely time at a neat little uncrowded bar with darts (I played and lost; so much for crossing another one off of my 101 in 1001 this weekend...) and pool (I watched).
Finally, on Sunday, we awoke to find a special offer slid under our door: Check out by 9, get $10 to spend in the onsite bakery. Woohoo! Smelmooo got his shoofly pie, and we got Dutch pretzels and chocolate chip cookies for 7 cents altogether.
So not a bad trip, and nice to lie around and read in the sun and have down time with the fam, but I think my favorite part might have been on the way home. Smelmooo and I went outlet shopping not in any of the dozens of outlets advertised near Lancaster -- including one that was the site of the first national shoofly-pie-eating contest on Saturday -- but closer to home, just because we were craving familiarity by that point, plus we figured traffic would be worse later in the day. Anyway, I got a pair of jeans at the Gap outlet that fit super-well and, if I may be so bold, make my butt look really cute (although the pockets are kind of funny, but oh well), which made my day, and then I finally got a belt, which made the Smelmooo's day.
So, a fine weekend overall, but we were very happy to be back to our house and our puppy, who was exhausted from his own weekend resort experience.
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