But Wait . . . There's More!

We spent the next ten days (including Thanksgiving) in Connecticut with Ed's family. All his siblings and all their kids were there, so it was a very, very full house. But I didn't care at all. The kids each had someone new to talk to and play with, everyone spoke English, the kitchen was fully stocked and I didn't have to do any grocery shopping or meal planning. I was surrounded by people who love and accept me. Life--despite the incredibly loud chaos of a family reunion--was wonderful.

I was really tired of taking photos, so this is the only one I took in Connecticut. It's Rachel and her fiancé Seth taking a nap  one afternoon.

We enjoyed a great Thanksgiving family photo shoot and a wonderful holiday dinner. The weather was good enough all week that the kids played outside a lot. They remembered their cousins from a visit just last July so they got along well. It was a great visit all in all, but by Tuesday, December 1 we were getting antsy to move along.

Ed had tablets to work on at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, so he spent Tuesday there while I drove the kids four hours to Philadelphia and checked into our apartment. He arrived later that evening on the train. We immediately went to get Philly cheesesteaks for dinner and enjoyed them so much we bought some the next night, too.

Abby was interested in the browning process for the steak.

Ed worked at the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Anthropology and Archaeology for the next couple days while the kids and I explored historic Philadelphia. I couldn't keep them interested in much for long, but they did like seeing the Liberty Bell, the Bill of Rights, and Constitution Hall. They really liked the vintage candy shop near the Betsy Ross House and we got some great food at the Reading Terminal Market. It was much windier and colder than anyplace we lived in Europe, so I was grateful to be back in the land of the ever-present auto and in urban spaces planned around ample parking spaces.

Independence Hall is a tourist museum that sounds like a required stop in your sightseeing, but when you get inside you realize the only thing of historical significance is one of many copies of the Bill of Rights. The rest is a museum of contemporary exhibits. It does, however, have a statuary reproduction of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, complete with statues of everyone who was there. It was a fun exhibit, especially for Isaac.

I love Abby the Imitator hiding in the back of the photo.

Abby and Ben Franklin, this time with Isaac in the back.

Isaac is picking Thomas Jefferson's nose, I think. Ewww.

Independence Hall is right across the mall from Constitution Hall, and the evening gave us a lovely view.

The Visitor's Center had a dress-up area with cutouts of the Liberty Bell and George Washington.

Abby is sweet, Linda is tough. There's no question in my mind that they're born wired differently. 

I know, poor set design. We're standing in front of the Liberty Bell here, even though you can't see it.

Oh, there it is!

And then, Constitution Hall. The tour was decent and not too long, and the kids did really enjoy being in the room where both the Declaration and the Constitution were written and signed. I made the older three read a short history of the Continental Congress before we visited, and they were able to answer all the ranger's questions with pride. 

Of course, there was still plenty of goofing around.

Joe was fairly quiet, thanks to a random notebook I found in my backpack.

Our apartment in Philly was in an interesting neighborhood. Although between the apartment and downtown the streets seemed nice enough and well-kept, the streets we drove through to arrive there were pretty shady. It reminded me of some of the less-desirable parts of South Chicago, and I think if I hadn't spent so many years in Chicago I probably would have been fairly nervous and uncomfortable. The street we lived on was definitely the borderline--some homes kept up well, others not well at all. The inside of the apartment was well-renovated and furnished, but lacking a decent number of dishes and towels. The bathroom smelled moldy, but it all seemed normal for an urban row house like those we lived in and visited in Chicago. It was a little like going back in time. I remembered to use all three locks on the door.

And then we were off to Chicago!

This is Ed at a rest stop in Ohio. His last haircut had left him with an extra long spot in the front, and he kept it combed straight up for the whole drive to Chicago. 

We drove straight through on Saturday and spent a couple nights in Lake Villa with the Hicksons again. It's always great to see them, and the kids had a great time together. Jen had found the local ward for us, and I was amazed at how many of the Relief Society members knew her or of her from school and community organizations. I told them to keep working hard to to invite the Hicksons to lots of church activities. Monday morning we headed down to Hyde Park and met two of our old Jerusalem students (now married to each other and attending the U of C) for lunch at Giordano's. Yum. While Ed had meetings and appointments, the kids and I visited the Museum of Science and Industry (again) and, on Tuesday, the Garfield Park Conservatory (one of my favorite Chicago places). We were joined for both by Abi Gunn, one of the students, and it was great having her along.

The moon landing, with Isaac Armstrong and the MSI

The Garfield Park Conservatory:

Joe and Abi spent a very long time watching the fish. I don't know the two on the left, but they wouldn't get out of the way.

A panorama of the Palm House.

The show garden. 

A Christmas garden. 

I've always loved this Moorish tiled fountain.

The Conservatory always has interesting art exhibits installed among the plants. 

After the Conservatory it was lunchtime, but one of my favorite restaurants (I didn't go to many when we lived in Chicago--we were too poor) was the Bongo Room, a breakfast place in the south loop. I gave the kids a quick but passionate lecture on restaurant etiquette, then we went and ate three amazing pancake dishes: pumpkin cinnamon, Red Velvet and walnut, and caramel. They were delicious and so rich we barely finished them all between the seven of us. The kids behaved well, thank goodness.

Chicago (Hyde Park) was our last airbnb experience, and it was one of the most interesting. We stayed with a retired U of C professor of Human Development who recently lost her husband. She had two railroad apartments (long and skinny) that were mirror images of each other and connected through a closet that had been removed. Although we thought our accommodations were standalone, they were not. We had to enter through her front door and tiptoe past her bedroom, and there was a man staying in the living room area of our side who would walk past our bedroom at 6 am to use our bathroom (which we weren't aware of until it happened). She was really a nice lady and loved the kids, so despite the weirdness, it was a place I'd stay at again. I wish we'd had more time to visit with her.

Finally, we were headed home. We drove and drove and drove, and since the kids had been rotten one day in Philadelphia, no one was using any electronics. For anything. For the whole trip. And they survived, although at points they thought they were going to die of boredom. Instead, they played a lot of the alphabet game and stared out the window deep in thought. The best part was when Ed would tell stories about his time at the Air Force academy, boot camp, and downed pilot/POW training. Those sessions would last for hours at a time, with everyone thoroughly enjoying the telling or the hearing. It was some of the best family moments of the entire trip. 

There were a few times, though, when they would fight. Here are Isaac and Linda walking along the highway after we kicked them out of the car for being ornery. It was freezing out there in the Kansas wilderness, and Isaac had pity on the coatless Linda. 

We stayed overnight at a Marriott in Nebraska and got an early enough start the next morning (we were all anxious to go go go) to get home around 4 in the afternoon. The renters had left our home in pristine condition with clean sheets on all the beds, and Rachel and Seth had stew simmering in the crock pot. It was a wonderful homecoming.

As I write this on February 21st, I admit I still wake up in the morning so happy to be in my own house where I have everything I need or want to be comfortable. I'm so grateful the kids have school to go to and friends to be with everyday. I'm so grateful to know where all the food is in the grocery store, to know where to buy the cheapest gas, and to be able to understand all the people who work at any business I visit. I'm so grateful to have hours each day to read and sew and exercise, and I'm ready and happy to be with my kids each afternoon.

But there are things about our trip that I do miss: I loved watching the kids cheer and support each other while bowling, having fun together at parks, without distractions from other friends. There were times when all the kids (even Mary) would jostle to sit next to me on the subway, and Isaac frequently would carry the groceries or my backpack without being asked. Isaac would often give piggyback rides to Abby and Joe when they got tired, and everyone took their turn running after Joe to corral him when he was feeling adventurous. Abby learned more about being part of a team instead of a diva, and Linda would consciously work to be cheerful and keep moving forward even when she was exhausted or sick of it. I felt so often that the Lord was aware of me and walking with me and helping me to do more than I could have done alone.

The trip wasn't what I had imagined it would be, and I don't think I will see most of the benefits of our efforts for quite a long time. But there is one blessing that is already apparent: my children have learned to read the scriptures each day, individually and as a family. We're not perfect at it, but we're trying every day to get up early and read, alone and together. I have wanted for years to send my children out each day armed with the word of the Lord and the prayers of their family, but was worried they were too young to be woken up early, too young to pay attention. While we were in Europe, we tried to read every day, alone and together, and we are still trying to do it at home. This is the best gift I can give to my children--the habit of personal and family scripture study each morning. For all the things this trip was not, and for all the missed opportunities or difficult moments, I am still and nevertheless grateful that my kids are learning to love the scriptures.

Germany: The Final Week of Our European Adventure

I actually wrote some of this post in the moment. . . . .

Now that we're finally in the last week, I feel anxious and excited to tour again, to get out and make the most of these precious few days. Funny that I couldn't get myself to feel that way for the last three weeks. . . Months ago, I thought that living in four places for four months was the most moving I could do on this trip, but now I can't imagine having stayed in any one place that long. Somehow moving to a new place makes me feel like I'm progressing instead of standing still. It also means more newness and less excuse for the kids to veg out.

The drive over from Prague to a far south suburb of Frankfurt was beautiful, heading westward into a beautiful sunset and twilight: the air itself seemed tinged with orange and pink. We arrived at our new airbnb apartment and it had a neon sign--I swore to Ed just a few weeks ago that I'd never stay at a hotel with a neon sign. Oh well. The inside is nicer, although there is no living room. I'm glad we'll only be here a few days.

Our first full day Ed was scheduled to work tablets in Giessen, about an hour away. Rather than be stuck in our tiny apartment and tiny town with no car, we rode up with him (quite early--it was the first time in months I have woken the kids up for anything besides church) and spent all day in the Mathematikum, a hands-on science/tech/math museum. And it really was all day--9:30 to 3:30, and I had to drag them away to go pick up Ed from the University. There were so many interesting exhibits and mathematical toys to play with. The drive home, however, was miserable: two hours through traffic, searching for a restaurant for dinner and listening to kids yelling in the back of the car. After a 12 hour day, it was good when we finally got home.

A table full of square, triangular, hexagonal and pentagonal building disks kept them busy for hours.

I hadn't realized until this museum visit how good Abby's spatial skills are. She has quite the mechanical mind--perhaps one day she'll be an engineer.

Linda's giant soccer ball.

Joe still likes airplanes and guns, especially toys that can operate as both simultaneously.

A human-sized bubble machine. My kids had to scramble for a turn in between the visiting school tour groups because it was probably the most popular exhibit in the museum.

Instead of staying in the cafe with the rest of us, Linda and Joe enjoyed eating their ice cream outside in the courtyard, sitting in the windowsill.

This was my favorite exhibit, the "Leonardo Bridge." By placing these simple wooden planks in the right tension with each other, you can create a long bridge. I wasn't steady enough to make it much longer than this, but that didn't stop me from trying for two hours.

Tuesday we hung out at home to work, do homework, and relax, but decided to try KFC for lunch. Apparently my German is not as good as I thought it was, because we ended up with extra-spicy chicken that none of the kids would eat, so we picked up some pizza to take home. On the way home we made a brief stop to see a famous apartment building designed by the Slovak architect Hundertwasser. Apparently his art wages war against the straight line, and if I lived in one of his creations, I would feel like a hobbit.

Each of the thousand doors and windows in the building are at least slightly different from all the others.

Wednesday we packed, did homework, and headed into Frankfurt to stay with the Williams, who offered to host all seven of us for four days. And it was so nice to be there. It felt like a real home and had everything a real home has--good smells, a full complement of kitchen utensils, books, games, and a loving family with a routine--almost all of which we have been missing out on. Jolynn took great care of us, feeding us well-rounded meals and giving my kids a lot of love and attention.

Joe loves this picture. He got to make chocolate chip cookies with Jolynn, so she promised him the very first cookie.

Ivan, the 14-year old, is brilliantly creative. Here is Abby wearing one of his masks.

Thursday we set off to see the Gutenberg museum in Mainz, which has an astonishing collection of old manuscripts, some illuminated, early printed books, more than one copy of the Gutenberg Bible, and original press machines. Jolynn and I loved it. The kids hated it and complained the entire time. At one point, four of them were actually lying on the floor among the displays as I tried to give them a brief history of Martin Luther and the 95 theses. The docents followed us everywhere because they were afraid of what the kids would do. And Joe, thanks to his older siblings, recited his new mantra "Bo-o-o-ring, bo-o-o-ring" over and over. My mom says that when they are older they'll realize what an amazing experience they had, and I sure hope so. I hope they try to tell me about it and how grateful they are to have had it so I can interrupt them by rolling my eyes, lying down on the floor and saying "bo-o-o-ring."

Jolynn and I outside The Gutenberg Museum.

     

Friday was spent cleaning, dividing and packing, but Saturday--our last full day in Europe--I tried to finish out with some sightseeing. Ed had to drive to Mulhouse, France to drop off our van to the Peugeot dealer (goodbye van, you were good to us). I took the boys to get haircuts in the morning, then spent a few hours in downtown Frankfurt with our wonderful Austrian friend from Jerusalem, Miriam. (She was living a couple hours north in Bonn and came down to spend the night with us. She has such a wandering spirit, it didn't even phase her to roll out on the living room floor with the seven of us and join our slumber party.) Jolynn really wanted me to see the old city and the historical museum, which we did, but we were too late for the walking tour. Miriam and enjoyed just walking and talking, especially because they were putting up the Christmas market in the town square (thank heaven Jolynn kept the kids at home), but we headed back in the early afternoon so I could finish up some clothes shopping for the Stratford family picture I knew was coming the following week in Connecticut.

I was amazed and how new and bright and vertically linear (meaning, not sagging) the buildings of Old Frankfurt looked--until I realized they were built in the 1980s as part of an urban renewal project and attempt to increase tourism. Most of the old city was destroyed in bombings during World War II. 

But despite being 30 instead of 300 years old, they were quite lovely.

I love shopping with kids--Joe kept disappearing among the clothes rack. I was glad to have Jolynn and Miriam as reinforcements. We each took a child or two and helped them find the right outfit for the photo.

My kids with dear Miriam. She is a good friend and a generous soul. I wish we lived nearer, but I'm so grateful for my amazing global life and communication that allows me to keep in touch with people on every continent.

Sunday, November 22nd--the day I sometimes thought would never come. I wanted to go to sacrament meeting before we headed to the airport, and we made it happen. But I think it stressed Jolynn out unnecessarily, for which I felt bad. But even though we left right after the sacrament was passed, we had the chance to see Miriam one last time, and--surprise of surprises--I was coming out of the bathroom and nearly ran into one of Ed's old roommates from the time we were dating at BYU, Tim Hart. He works for the foreign service, has a wife and three kids, and looks just the same. He was always one of the happiest and most positive people I've ever had the pleasure of being around, and he hasn't changed at all in that regard. It was a really great moment. There is so much joy in reuniting with beloved friends at church and at the temple.

What a great way to end our trip.

And then it was time for the airport. Everything there went smoothly (sometimes I'm so proud of and grateful for my good kids) and, except for the fact that Jolynn had to make a second trip after dropping us off to drop off Ed's laptop bag that we left in her car, we had no trouble getting everything checked and getting ourselves loaded. We left at 1:30, the flight was uneventful, and Ed's brother Ben picked us up nine hours later at JFK. It was only 5:30 in New York, but more than one kid fell asleep on the ride to Grandma's. 

Our very last European meal was at a Burger King. I feel the need to apologize.

Prague: Week 3

On Sunday, November 8th, I realized we had only one more foreign Sabbath. I was seized with alternating and emphatic emotions. The previous two weeks I had longed to be home in my own room, my own kitchen, with the kids in school and the freedom to do what I wanted to do. Now, realizing that in 14 days I would be flying home to the States, I felt guilty for my homesickness and ungrateful for the amazing experience that was about to end. I worried that I had wasted time, that I should have done more--but I also don't know what that would have looked like. When I think carefully, I hope I can say I have done the best I could with the time and circumstances given me. And where I didn't do the best, I hope the Lord will forgive me as I repent of squandering.

So our last week in Prague was spent trying to fill time and keep the kids entertained. There was ample time for playing on the computer and tablet, especially when I took off on my own one day, but mostly we just did fun stuff.

DinoPark: Right next door to the football stadium is a new mall with an open air dinosaur exhibit on the rooftop. Some of the "life-size" dinosaurs were animatronic, some you could play on, but otherwise it was pretty small. There was also a great playground up there, both a traditional climbing structure and a musical section where pulling and pushing various rods and levers made different sounds.

European malls can be like mini-cities, with lots of play space added to the eating and shopping space. They target the moms with young kids, that's for sure.

The view from the playground of the DinoPark with the soccer stadium behind.

The girls loved this dinosaur you could play on, but Joe was so tired that day he wouldn't even smile for a photo. 

You could climb inside this T-Rex head and pretend you were being eaten alive. Once Isaac did it, the other kids of course had to have their picture taken, too. 

My hatching dinosaurs.

This mall also had a storefront that was just for driving kid cars around. For one CZK per minute, Linda, Abby and Joe could ride on any of the motorized cars they wanted (Isaac was bummed he was too big--I told him he could go choose a new Lego set at the toy store instead--he was indecisive and went home with nothing.) Then we also took a ride around the inside of the mall on a miniature double-decker bus. Can you tell I was willing to pay for just about anything if it was fun and diverting? I was never that kind of mom at home.

The top of this mini-bus was so narrow I could barely fit my legs in and almost had to hang them off the railing. It was a pretty fun ride, although we felt pretty darn conspicuous riding around inside the mall with Czech children's songs blaring from the vehicle's loudspeaker. Good thing it was on a weekday in the late morning and the mall was mostly empty. 

Gutovka: Mary, and lately Isaac, had been very patient about going to parks and playgrounds that were primarily of interest to the younger kids, and having little to do themselves while we were there. Isaac was great at entertaining other little kids at the park by getting them to chase him, but Mary was especially bored, and often. I stumbled onto a website that listed parks in Prague by age group, and I was surprised to see a park particularly for tweens and early teenagers. It was a little way out of the city on the tram, but it had a skating rink, a climbing wall, a water park (which was already turned off for the season), and a high ropes course. There were also regular play structures and a smaller ropes course for the younger kids, as well. It was creative and interestingly laid out, and even though it was cold we kept ourselves busy there for a few hours.

The trams were often very full, but Linda found a place to sit on the floor between two seats.

These climbing ropes led up inside these green pods, where the kids could sit and play. Unfortunately for the younger ones, the space between the lower ladder and the pods was taller than they were, so they had a lot of trouble getting inside. 

Mary was brave and tried out the ropes course--she said it was the hardest one she had ever done. She had to work quite hard to get through some of the obstacles and said her muscles were sore afterward. This photo was taken when she missed  grabbing the tether at the end of the zip line and got stuck halfway back up the line. We all--including Mary--had a good laugh as the employee had to push her to the end with a broom.

Joe was very upset that he couldn't do the ropes course. He'd been able to do the one in Italy, and he couldn't understand that this one was too big for him. He cried for at least 30 minutes--the entire time the older three were working the course--and wouldn't settle down. It is always entertaining to watch Joe throw tantrums, but I also felt bad because I knew he was tired and sick of traveling. 

We didn't spend too long on the roller-skating rink, because the kids got tired of falling down a lot. But it was a good first effort for the younger three who hadn't skated before. I tried to help Joe and Abby, but we discovered that they stayed on their feet much better when they worked on their own. I cringed every time someone fell down, worried they would hit their head and get a concussion. (A year ago our family went to the ER four times in three months for head trauma, two of which were my own--the thought of concussions now makes me physically sick.) I masked my concern by laughing at them as they fell. Such a nice mom. There are probably more videos here than you'd care to look at, but here they are.

Karlstejn Castle: Our last family field trip (sans Ed, of course, who had to work) in the Czech Republic was to the 14th century Karlstejn Castle, a significant castle during the early centuries of the Holy Roman empire. It's also situated on a steep mountainside, with a small village in the beautiful river valley below. When we arrived, we discovered you had to either hike two kilometers up the hill or pay for a taxi service. I had learned by now that the best way to ruin a day trip with my kids is to march them too far at the beginning. So we splurged and thoroughly enjoyed a wagon ride up the hill. The kids were enamored with the horses, of course. It was fun to make them happy.

The view from the lower village.

It was also fun to see Isaac cuddling with Joe to keep him from falling out of the wagon.

Our horses.

The wagon took us almost all the way, but we had to walk the last few hundred meters. The kids sprinted it.

The downward view from the main level.

The upward view from the main level.

We had to wait about forty-five minutes before our tour started, so we had some lunch and the kids ran around the courtyard. They were loud and crazy, but not particularly obnoxious, although some of the castle staff had to tell them to stop climbing up the walls.

Abby, Joe and Linda.

Joe got tired. Actually, by this time in our trip, Joe was often tired. I realize now he was just as tired as the rest of us. But he always trudged on--a good, steady little traveler, nearly always with a happy disposition. Thank heaven for that.

The tour was completely uninteresting to five of the six of us, and the other one of us was too distracted by the other five's behavior to get to listen to much of what the tour guide had to say. But the guide was a sweet young girl who tried to draw the kids in by letting them be "the key keeper" and lock and unlock the doors between the rooms. Abby loved it.

Joe was loud and goofy and I couldn't get him to hold still. The king's bed was a beautiful piece.

One of the best parts of our trip to Karlstejn was the blacksmith right outside the front gate. It was a little tourist shop, and while it sold many more things (cheap trinkets, particularly) than the smith made himself, the kids had fun buying little swords with jewel-encrusted handles. It was there that I got my one real souvenir of Europe: a bell. I've always thought it would be fun to have a dinner bell out on the porch to call the kids, and this one was plenty loud with a simple and lovely design. I was excited to have something for myself to bring home.

Terezin: One of the most important things for me to see during this European tour was an internment or extermination camp. My master's thesis required extensive readings in trauma theory, cultural memory, and the use of narrative (i.e. writing one's stories) in mitigating and coping with trauma. Holocaust literature and experience were the foundation of these ideas, so I studied the memoirs of Holocaust survivors as I was writing my thesis about African women and their own narrations of personal trauma. I knew I that in visiting a concentration camp I didn't want to take my kids (maybe Mary and Isaac could have handled it), and Ed declined to go, so I went alone and was glad to have time to absorb the experience at my own pace. It was sobering, of course, but I'm grateful I went.

I took a day to myself and went about an hour north of Prague to visit Terezin, a centuries-old village that during WWII became a ghetto and internment camp for Jews from all over the Czech Republic. From Terezin, Jews would be shipped to places like Auschwitz. Before the German occupation, the fortress outside town had been used as a military barracks and a work/prison camp for political prisoners, and the village had been a thriving community. Hitler forced the original residents to leave the town and crammed tens of thousands of Jews into a village meant for hundreds, building substandard barracks for housing. Propaganda films were created and shipped around the empire showing Terezin as a happy community of Jews, never mentioning the disease, lack of food and hygiene, not to mention being stripped of their human rights.

A massive and imposing sculpture at one end of the Jewish graveyard. The bits of color around the rocks at the base are prayers and mementos left by visitors.

This fortress was built in the late 1700s and turned into a prison camp shortly afterward. It was an ideal place for the Germans to house their work camp.

Before WWII, however, this prison housed a very famous criminal: Gavrilo Princip, the man who assassinated the Archduke Ferdinand, precipitating the start of World War I. Princip attempted to commit suicide when he was caught but his cyanide capsule was past its sell-by date. Because on the day of the assassination he was one day shy of twenty years old, he couldn't be given the death penalty and was sentenced to the maximum penalty of twenty years in the Terezin prison. Treated badly and kept in horrible conditions, he died less that four years later. Today, Serbian nationalists keep a memorial in the cell Princip inhabited at Terezin.

This is the entry courtyard into the internment camp. Prisoners were processed in the offices on the left, then proceeded toward the end of the walk to the archway. 

I've heard this quotation many times ("Work makes you free"), and thought that would make a great quote for my kids when they were whining about their Saturday chores. I hadn't realized it was posted at the entrance of every German WWII work camp, so I'm sure now that I will never use it on my kids.

These beds would hold eight people across in each of the five sections, on each of the three levels, totaling 120 per room. The room only extends about a meter and a half to the left of the photo, and there was one sink for all of them to share.

These newer barracks were built later in the war, and at one end of the courtyard was a stage for public executions. 

These newer barracks had larger rooms, which simply meant they were proportionally more overcrowded. At one point this room housed approximately five hundred men.

This room was built in anticipation of visits by Red Cross inspectors, so that the world would think the camp was treating its prisoners humanely. The inspectors never came, and the camp guards kept this room locked. It was never used by any of the prisoners, who rarely if ever were allowed to bathe or wash themselves. To me, this room highlights the inhumanity of these camps. Jews were allowed nothing good, even when it was available at no inconvenience to their captors.

The village of Terezin today is a sad and depressing place. Many of the barrack buildings from the ghetto period remain and are run-down. I drove around the small town in just a few minutes and the state of things was horribly sad. There are currently local residents, but I can't imagine trying to live there today with the specters of the past haunting this space.

Peeling paint and dark, uninspired architecture contribute to the sadness of this town's history.

The city walls surrounding the town are still mostly intact, bordered by beautiful farmland. 

Terezin was the reason for my day out, but despite the sadness of its history, I enjoyed very much my day away from the kids and husband to regroup. I listened to loud sing-along feminist country music and marveled at the beautiful countryside. As I was leaving Terezin, I wasn't quite ready to return to the family yet, and in the distance I saw an intriguing, solitary hill topped with towers.

Wouldn't you be intrigued by those two turrets off in the distance? What king or lord held that mountain? For how long? Who owns it now?

I decided to investigate, so I wandered on side roads until I got close enough to stop in a village and ask a lovely young mother strolling her baby for directions. She pointed me to a small road out of town, up a hill--a road that soon became a dirt track through a sheep pasture. The trees and buses slowly began to close in on either side, and the trail became narrower and steeper. I also noticed the fields that appeared through the bushes on either side were becoming slightly mist-covered.

A family of deer running through a field.

The towers through the encroaching dusk.

My Google map registered this trail/track/road, but after sliding sideways into a small thicket, and realizing the trail at the top of a small rise I struggled to navigate would be even worse, I decided I shouldn't push my luck too far. Besides, it was getting dark and I didn't even know where I was. Yes, I had a $0 deductible on my car insurance, but let's be reasonable. It took some of my fanciest driving to avoid the brambles of the thicket as I slid back and forth trying to right myself on the trail, but thanks to heartfelt prayer I eventually got back on the "road" and headed down the mountain. I was a little worried the grass on the track would be slippery and I would slide headfirst into something less forgiving than my little thicket, but gratefully I kept righted and pointed straight all the way back to the village. I still haven't told Ed about my little adventure, I think mostly because the solitariness of that day was precious. I guess he's bound to find out now.

The closest I could get to my towers. If it had been earlier in the day I would have left the car and hiked to the top.

So there you have it: three weeks in Prague. Ed worked very hard, long hours each day, while the kids and I mostly just wanted to go home. But it's a beautiful country and I would like to go back again. There were so many things I didn't get to explore.