They may be on the verge of turning into teenagers, but my niece and nephew still have a bit of childhood left to experience, so whenever we have an opportunity to have them over, we take it, hoping to make the most of these dwindling days. So it was that we hosted them for an overnight a couple of weeks ago, which we began with a steak dinner by Andy, and an excursion to the movie theater to take in ‘Where the Crawdads Sing’ – a movie choice they agreed upon without the customary hours of debate and argument and compromise and concession, and one that I hesitantly agreed to when they said they were old enough to see it. I suppose they are, and that will take its own getting used to.
The next day we rose early to head West. Having taken the day off from work, I indulged in a rare, and welcome, breakfast at a local diner. This tradition with the twins is one of the simplest and most fun ways to pass a morning – we’ve been doing it for years, starting when they were just old enough to dine out. I still remember them choosing a waffle with ice cream, and their big smiles over the plates when they arrived. That was way back after their first sleepover with us. A lot of time has passed since then.
On this day we were headed to Sharon Springs for a drive through the country, a stop at the Beckman 1802 Mercantile, and whatever other adventures the remaining time together held.
I made the twins pose in front of the American Hotel, where Andy and I had so thoroughly enjoyed a meal and stay far too many years ago (we are overdue for another). We then walked down the short stretch of Main Street, stopping at a couple of soap stores, perusing a fascinating gift shop that stretched out room after room, and finally reaching our destination all too quickly. When we hopped back in the car, I saw that we were only a few minutes from Canajoharie, and the memory of a visit to Wintergreen Park as a kid came flooding back. I decided to put that into the GPS and see if I could bring us all back to a place in time that provided one of the most fun excursions of my childhood.
The winding roads brought us to the park, which was smaller and much more manageable than I remember it – childhood memory having a way of making things much more spectacular and magnificent than they might otherwise be. Even so, there was something majestic about this space, and the faces of the twins reassured me that it still held that magic.
We must have been right around the twins’ age when my Mom first took us here. I vividly recalled the stretch of stream where a very softly graded waterslide was carved naturally into the rock. This stretch of stone was made slippery by algae and water weeds, and my brother and I had taken dozens of trips down its length, hurrying back to the beginning over and over, each slide an adventure in itself. That day expanded in memory, and I did my best to tell the twins about it, vowing to bring them back when they could take off their shoes and try it. Today we were due back in Amsterdam in a few hours, so we took one last glance at this beautiful spot, then made the long trek home.
Not yet wanting to break the spell of such a good visit, we stopped for a sushi dinner, and I gave the twins their first Koto Experience. They stuck to their starter staples of California and spicy tuna rolls, but when my tray of specialty rolls arrived, their jaws dropped and they sampled new items that would expand their palette, bravely pushing into a world of eel and lobster and things they never even dreamed existed in such delicious form. We will go back to try something new, or perhaps be more daring on an upcoming trip to Boston.
As for this summer visit, it ended with me dropping off the twins at their home, and getting another glimpse of their new baby brother Jaxon.
The world keeps turning…
