To Be or Air BnB

Our Atlanta AirBnb had it own chickens. Free fresh eggs!

This trip was a first for us. No hotel stays while on the road. No cheap motels. No hotel pools. No free continental breakfasts. Instead, we we're gonna enter the new millennium and stay at Airbnb's the entire time.  Now, we've stayed in vacation homes before. On the beach. But those always felt as much like a resort as anything. These would be different. We were gonna stay in residential areas. In people's houses.

So. Much. Room.

There were some definite advantages to staying in an Airbnb versus a hotel. 



Here's our list of Pros and Cons...

Our Savannah home away from home

All in all, everyone totally enjoyed our temporary residences. We may never go back to hotels again.  If only we could find an Airbnb with free breakfasts and a pool, we'd be set...

Savannah Smiles

Our final stop on this Woodman family adventure took us to the charming and picturesque town of Savannah, Georgia. A city both rich with tradition and troubled in its dark history, it proved to be a memorable time for all.

 

Savannah is well known as one of the most haunted cities in America. So, obviously our first stop was a walking ghost tour through the historic section of downtown. Here we learned all about this city's disturbing past, from sweeping epidemics to mass deaths. And probably the most troubling, the overwhelming neglect and mistreatment of burial sites. There are untold numbers of buried dead bodies, unmarked, just about everywhere throughout this historic section. When your city is built on a  premise for several horror movies, bad things tend to happen.

After the initial creep out factor, we settled into Savannah and began to appreciate it for what it is, a beautiful, and very accessible town. Not only was it easy to get around, but with over 20 town squares and beautiful homes everywhere you look, there was plenty to see. The evergreen live oak with their drooping, curvaceous branches, draped in Spanish moss added yet another bit of Southern quality to Savannah's charm.

Forsyth Park

On our second day we met up with our friends the Kasparek family, who coincidentally happen to be swinging through town. This time another historical walking tour, only with out all the creepy stories.

Nina shows concern. Nadia, not so much.

Beach time

As an added bonus to this already enjoyable town, the beach was just a short 20 minute drive away. Tybee Island sits on the Atlantic just south of the popular destination of Hilton Head, South Carolina. Less crowded than most beaches, but with all the laid back vibes of any beach town, Tybee was the ideal destination for our family. The waves were big enough, but not too big. The water was clean and the perfect temperature. There were plenty of sea shells to collect. And, most importantly (to Norah) no jellyfish! On our 3rd day at the beach, a group of dolphins swam within 20 yards of us. What a great beach!

Let us not overlook our main reason for taking this trip in the first place. Nina had qualified to participate in the YMCA National Gymnastics meet to be held in Savannah. With over 1700 gymnasts from 71 different teams from all over the country, it was a big deal. Everywhere we went in town, we saw girls doing cartwheels, and handstands, and well, basically acting like Nina. The meet itself lasted for three days, with Nina competing one of those days. The competition was tough. Lots of teams traveled in large numbers. Nina was one of just 5 kids from her Y that made the trip. She performed well, and even managed to medal on bars, her worst apparatus typically. We were all very proud of her accomplishments.

Beaming with pride

Pandamonium

January 1st 2017. The Woodman family lounges around the house contemplating the new year that sits before them. "Hey, let's write down our resolutions..." someone says. Probably me. Sounds like something I would say. So we did. We gave it some thought, and throughout the day we all jotted down on the chalk board our hopes for 2017.
'I want to try new things.' I wrote.
'I want to try a new recipe every month' Jenny adds.
The 2 big kids added some sporting accomplishments to their lists, and we were nearly finished. With the exception of Nadia. She was new to this concept of setting long term goals. Or maybe she wasn't comfortable putting them in writing for the whole family to see. She struggled to think of anything. We tried to spark some ideas for her. And then finally she came up with something on her own. When no one was looking, she went into the kitchen and scribbled in chalk:

'I want to see a panda.'

Her sisters laughed. "That's not a resolution" one of them said mockingly.
But right away, I thought differently. It was the perfect resolution, I decided.
Clear. Specific. Attainable. Just the kind of thing we can handle.
Now, where to begin?

My immediate knowledge of pandas at American zoos were the original ones in Washington D.C. But a quick Google search lead me to three other panda exhibits stateside. San Diego, Memphis and Atlanta. Well...I thought, Memphis is close by. I guess we can hop down there at some point this year. We could make it work. Then fate stepped in and decided it for us. Nina qualified for a gymnastics meet in Georgia, and fittingly Atlanta was right on the way.

Hello Pandas.

Born September 3, 2016

Not only was the Atlanta Zoo the home of two adult bears (Lun Lun and Yang Yang) but as luck would have it, they had recently given birth to twin cubs. Baby panda cubs? Are you kidding me? Our heads were sure to explode with cuteness overload. Ya Lun and Xi Lun are the 6th and 7th cubs to be born to this pair. Like their older brothers and sisters, they will grow up and move to the Chengdu Research Base in China. But for now, they were out for all to see.



Zoo Atlanta, by any measure is a nice zoo. Not too big, but big enough. Beautifully designed, mostly shaded, and well kept. There were plenty of other cool things for us to see as well. Baby orangutans. Naked mole rats. We even fed the giraffes. But let's be real, we came to see the pandas. We didn't shell out a hundred bucks to see meerkats. (side note: let me remind everyone in STL how great and amazing and FREE our Zoo is)













Pandas spend most of their day sleeping, but we were lucky enough to catch them first thing in the morning, out and about and playing with each other. We stopped by their exhibit several times throughout the day to admire these adorable creatures.

Thanks for the inspiration, Nadia.
Now, what do you have in mind for us in 2018...?

Mission accomplished

Yes in Indiana, There Is A Santa Claus

Two parks in one

DEAR BLOGGER: I am 7 years old.

Some of my little friends say there is no such place as Santa Claus.

My Poppa says, ‘If you see it in ON A BLOG,  then it’s so.’

Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

Wildebeest (★★★★★) and Mammoth (★★★★1/2)

Your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except what they see on YouTube.

The Legend (★★★★)

Yes, in INDIANA, there is a Santa Claus. It exists as certainly as adventure and excitement and fun exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy.

Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus.

There would be no childlike exuberance then, no delight, no exhilaration to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished

Thunderbird (★★★★★)

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in water coasters! The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see a winged roller coaster before? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

The Voyage (★★★★1/2)

You may ride all the rides at the park to try and find this magic, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man could tear apart. Only courage, bravery and spirit can push aside that curtain and view the fun and excitement beyond.

Is it all real?

Ah, in INDIANA, in all this world there is nothing else more real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! It exists, and it exists forever. A thousand years from now, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, it will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

You Say You Want a Revolution

Our kids are history nerds. Specifically, American History nerds. It wasn't something we planned. We didn't push them into it. Personally, I find history fascinating now, but I wasn't really that way as a kid. This wasn't our agenda. We didn't force it down their throats. No, they truly love it. On their own. 

“If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace.”

― Thomas Paine

Part of me likes to think it all started on our trip to Mount Rushmore. Something about being it that place, and seeing those faces carved on a mountain. It sparked an interest in them that hasn't subsided. In reality, though, it probably has more to do with their love of the American Girl franchise. When they lived. Where they lived. How they lived. Whatever it was, anything historically American, they devoured. Presidents and First Ladies. Battles and Wars. What people ate. How they dressed. How they died. All of it. So, since we were going to be in some of the most historically significant places in our country, we would seize the opportunity. We'd witness first hand where our country was born. We'd stand in the same places our founding fathers once stood. We'd visit their final resting places. We'd take it all in. We would learn from our past.

It all started in Boston. And by that, I mean our country began there. The first ideas of Revolution and Independence were born in what was once the largest city in the colonies. Eventually, most of the major events that lead us down the path of war also happened there. The thinkers, the radicals, the patriots all began in Boston. So, it made sense that we started our field trip there, at the center of colonial resistance.

“The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time 

to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.”

- Thomas Jefferson

March 5, 1770. For two years now, tensions had been building, as British troops occupied Boston in an attempt to squash the ever growing dissent. Fights between citizens and soldiers were commonplace. That night, a crowd began harassing a group of soldiers guarding the customs house. Snowballs were thrown. Someone discharged their musket, sparking a volley into the crowd. Five civilians were killed.

"Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness"

Today Boston is a big city, filled with all the trappings that comes with being one. Yet over the centuries, as it grew into what it is, a serious effort was made to preserve the important historical places amid the bustling metropolis. The freedom trail is one result of that. This 2½ mile long path runs through the city and connects (literally with red bricks) all these important spots. Museums. Churches. Meeting houses. Burial grounds. Historic markers. We would begin here.

Throughout my schooling, the American Revolution was hammered into our brains. Every year. We learned the causes. The dates. The people. The places. They glamorized our founding fathers. Here were these great men, these great leaders that stood up to tyranny, broke free and formed this new, mighty country. Together. United. Facing a powerful enemy. All for the noble causes of freedom and liberty. Pretty great stuff. That's what I always thought I guess. The patriots all stood up against England, and collectively started our nation. I should have thought about it more. When have you ever known a group of anybody to come together, in unison, and easily agree on something? On anything? Trying to appease everyone is impossible. Sometimes picking a restaurant for a group can be unnerving. But, starting a revolution? Forming a new country? A new government? As a group? Unthinkable. Not without constant conflict and disagreement the entire way.

“These are the times that try men's souls.” -Benjamin Franklin

December 16, 1773 

Angered by what they thought to be unfair taxes on tea, a growing number of American patriots demanded action. On this night, they did. There was still much disagreement on what was the correct course of action. For days, the well known leaders debated and argued at the Old South Meeting house about how to send a message to England. They had had enough. Meanwhile, several lesser-known men (acting on orders from the men still arguing) went to the Boston harbor, and dumped £9,000 of East India Company tea overboard. While still pretending to debate their actions, they had already been carried out.

Constant conflict and disagreement are two things our family understands. Jenny and I have been together for over 20 years. Our three young girls are close together in age. We all spend a lot of time together. More than most families. It's inescapable. Fights happen. There is drama. There is conflict. Often. Our kids are home-schooled, so there is plenty of opportunity throughout each and every day for them to flip out on each other. And they do. Daily. Then, eventually they separate. They go to their rooms, or outside or wherever it is, just to get away from each other. Time passes, and they get over it. They forget, or move on. They go back to their default mode of “actually liking each other, or at least pretending to... for now...” Then something sparks it again. Repeat that on a never-ending loop, and that is our lives. On the road, it's not that simple. When you're in a hotel, where can you run off to and pout? The closet? (Nadia did once.) When schedules are tight, how can you make time for fighting? You just do. When it's crowded and bustling where you are, how can you yell it out? How can you cry and scream? You find a way. (we have)

"One if by land. Two if by sea."

April 18-19 1775

War was eminent now. As British troops continued to build, the issue was no longer IF they would attack, it was WHERE and WHEN. Upon hearing word that England was advancing, Paul Revere, and the Sons of Liberty warned the countryside of their advance. Lexington and Concord would be first. War had begun.

 

A full three years went by between the massacre and the tea party. Three years before taking grand measures. It was then three more years after that before we declared our independence. By today's standards that seemed like a long time to me. What took so long? Why the delay? Sure, things took longer back then. I get that. Correspondences were slow. Travel was even slower. But it wasn't just that. It was all the infighting. The bickering. Just like our family, drama slowed everything down. Getting everyone to agree on something so grand was challenging. So, then surely once the war began, everyone in the colonies would come together in agreement, right?

If Boston was where the ideas for this country were dreamed up, then Philadelphia is where they became a realization. That would be our next stop. 

The last piece to my East Coast family, is my Mom's only brother, my Uncle Jimmy. He lives in the house he grew up in, just outside of Philadelphia. 
 

After retiring from a long and accomplished career as a high school band director, Jimmy followed his other real passion: acting. As a professional theater actor, he has performed in dozens of shows, and just the right one was in store for our visit.

James Conte as Hopkins (in the hat)

1776: The Musical tells the story of the Continental Congress and their long drawn out debates over what eventually became the Declaration of Independence. The cast were all members of that original Congress. Each representing a different colony. The hard selling John Adams. The wise Ben Franklin (uncannily played by John Morrison.) The young and unproven Thomas Jefferson. The drunken Stephen Hopkins (hilariously played by Jimmy!) 

“We must all hang together,
or assuredly we shall
all hang separately.”
-Benjamin Franklin

They sat and argued. And argued. And argued. Each bringing their own ideals into the mix. Their own agendas. No one seemed to agree about anything. It felt like nothing was ever going to get done. What were these guys, a bunch of siblings? Even though we already knew the ending, (SPOILER ALERT: They signed it.) we kept wondering, how did this ever happen? How did anything get accomplished? Their infighting was endless. These colonies wanted it this way. These other colonies wanted it that way. Vote like this. Say it like that. Nothing. Everything. Nothing. Imagine a colonial 12 Angry Men. Now add one more guy. And some singing. That was the show. It was compelling. And telling. And maddening. By the end, the girls had picked out the delegates they liked and the ones they couldn't stand. (“stupid South Carolina guy”) They were definitely paying attention. 

"Let us dare to read, think, speak, and write." 

-John Adams

July 2, 1776 The Continental Congress unanimously agrees to declare their independence from Britain. Two days later the document stating our intentions was signed at Independence Hall, forever changing our country.

 We had seen who these great leaders were. We stood in some of the homes where they lived. We walked through buildings they walked through. We sat in rooms they debated in. We knelt at their grave sites. We started to see them differently. They weren't perfect. They had hidden agendas. Some were rude. Loud. Self righteous. Ambiguous. Their ideas weren't perfect either. They fought. They compromised. They reasoned. They made it work. Somehow.

“"I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!"

- Patrick Henry

“Tell me and I forget. 

Teach me and I remember. 

Involve me and I learn.”

- Benjamin Franklin

But in the end (obviously) our Founding Father's did it. They came to an agreement. They put their names down on that document. Together. They worked out their differences. They made compromises. All for a greater good. Maybe my schooling was right all along. Maybe, it's really WHAT these men accomplished that's important. Not necessarily how they got there. Or what was said to each other. Or the compromises they made. Maybe none of that mattered. Maybe that's the lesson our kids will take away from this. People disagree. Things are said. Arguments ensue. But, that's how things get solved. That's how great things are created. Adversity. Struggle. Resolution. It never comes easy. It shouldn't. But in the end, it's worth it.

In the end, our travels won't be remembered for the fights on the subways. The tears in the streets. The disagreements on what to listen to in the car. In then end, it's what we do that matters.  
 




So, I guess, we should continue on fighting then. Continue arguing. Keep crying. And yelling. Then we'll just work it all out. We'll resolve it. We'll grow from it. Things will get better.

And who knows, maybe a new country or two will come out of it.

Lesson learned.

Boston Strong

In 1897, just one year after the success of the first ever modern day marathon, they held the inaugural Boston Marathon. Ever since then, the 3^rd Monday in April has been as special one for the entire area. Since its inception, the race has coincided with Patriots Day, a huge state wide holiday. Now, I had always heard about Patriots Day, a day set aside to honor the Revolutionary War battles of Lexington and Concord. I knew what it was. At least, I thought I did. I just never realized what it was actually like.

The Woodman family name is an old and established one in that part of the country. In the early 1600s, one particular Woodman, Edward, sailed from England to the colonies to help establish a new town in Massachusetts. 

For generations since that Woodman's arrival, and others as well, the family name has grown throughout New England. There are Woodman's all over. One of the family's claims to fame is the invention of the fried clam. People drive for miles in the New England area to make a pilgrimage to Woodman's and enjoy fried clams made from the family's original recipe. Three and a half centuries after Edward Woodman came to Massachusetts, his 10^th great-grandson (me) was also born in the area, in nearby Connecticut. Three years later, my dad took a job in St. Louis, and just like that, my days as a New Englander were over. Fate had decided that I would grow up as a Midwesterner, instead.

My sister Kelly is a running machine. She always has been. I'm not totally sure, but if someone told me she's was part robot at this point, I would probably believe them. Marathons for her? “Whatever.” Iron Man Triathlons? “No biggie.” Oh while you're at it, go ahead and pop out a litter of kids in-between races... “What else you got?” 26.2 miles to Kelly is like .2 miles to the rest of us mortals. Second nature. Dare I say, easy. So, it came as a surprise to no one, when she announced she would once again be one of the 30,000 participants in the Boston Marathon. Her third straight year running the race. No sweat.

What a difference 30 years makes.

After moving to Missouri, we visited our family back East sporadically. My Dad's only brother and his wife lived in Massachusetts. I remember when each of my two younger cousins were little. We saw them a few times, as kids. But, now, as an adult, I had only been back twice. Both times for each of my Grandmothers' funerals. Both visits were brief. I hadn't kept up with my East Coast family at all. Not really, anyways. An email from a cousin, here, a Christmas letter from my Aunt, there. I knew what everyone was up to. But that was about it. My only two cousins were adults now. They were both married and had started their own families. And I hadn't spent any real time with any of them in over 30 years. This year it would be different. This trip would remedy that.

To say that Boston embraces the marathon and Patriots Day is a vast understatement. We were not prepared for the amount of love that flowed from spectators that day. The race is a point-to-point one, meaning it has 26 miles to wind through the entire city. And all along the route, some 500,000 people cheered the runners on. Half a million. Picture that many people. The Boston Marathon ranks behind only the Super Bowl as the largest single day sporting event in the world. And these fans weren't just casually standing around, or using the day as an excuse to hang out and drink on a Monday. No. They were fully vested in the race. Cheering everyone on. Really cheering. Everyone. From the very beginning, when the elite leaders ran by (whose names and splits they all knew) all the way until the back of the pack passed hours later. People genuinely cheered. They shouted out people's names as they ran past (many runners wrote their own names on themselves somewhere.) Like real fans. “Go Jerry!” “You rock, Alice!” The entire time. They cheered. For runners. It was so great. So unreal. Boston loved this race. It was their race. And they showed it.

My cousin Christine and her husband Saul graciously offered their house up to us, for our visit. Offered is the wrong word. Insisted is more accurate. "OK...but our gang can be a handful,” I warned. With Kelly and her oldest son (Sebastian) staying there too, they assured us, “We'll make it work.” Right from the beginning, they did so much more than that. Saul, my newly-met cousin-in-law (is that what you call them?) treated us like we were guests on the Promenade Deck, and he was our cruise director. The slightest bit hungry? Here's some amazingly delicious food Saul just showed up with. Not hungry at all? Here's a box of mouth-watering cannolis that Saul ran out and grabbed. Totally stuffed? You can't be. There's more coming. More different kinds of local beer. More desserts from other bakeries. More. More. More. We wanted for nothing. Saul was our own personal concierge. “You need to go to this place,” he instructed. “And when you do, you gotta eat this.” So we did. We listened. We followed his advice. And we all left with our pants a little tighter.

Kelly struggled in this race. And when I say she struggled, I'm using that term loosely. Struggled by her robot-humanoid standards. Not by any sane person's standards. She hadn't trained at all. (Who does that?) And I mean not at all. A couple of injuries had kept her from running even once, leading up to the race. “Hopefully I won't have to walk the whole way.” she declared. She didn't. Even being unprepared, was only a slight challenge for her. Her body still knew what to do. Maybe her battery backup finally kicked in. But she willed herself on.

There was no struggle for us and my cousins. Everything came easy. Right from the start, it felt like we had known one another always. We had, I guess...technically...known them that long. Just with big gaps in between. But the gaps didn't show. Ever. When my other cousin Emily and her family joined in, nothing skipped a beat. It felt like all we did was hang out and shoot the breeze, pretty much our entire stay. There was no awkwardness. No disinterest. We all clicked. Like a real family does, I guess. Except, we hadn't spent enough time with them yet to have all the stupid baggage that normally gets in the way with families. No, with us, it was just the good stuff. We laughed. We told stories. Some old ones. Some new ones. We discovered shared familial characteristics (like our Grandmother's snore!) It was more than we had hoped for. It was perfect.

We know about them now.

Even better than hitting it off with my cousins, was watching the girls get to know their second cousins. Their connections were immediate and real and pure. They played a lot. They laughed even more. They had "sleepovers." They cried when it was time to leave. At one point Nina exclaimed joyfully, “It's like we had this whole other family that we never knew about.”

 

When Kelly stopped and chatted with us at our spot around mile 18, she seemed to be in an upbeat mood. After all, she was running in the greatest road race in America, and she got to share it with her family. She didn't seem to mind that her quads were killing her. She didn't seem to care that she had to walk as much as she did. I have to imagine that just competing in that event is an amazing experience. Every time she did it. Half a million screaming fans. That would never get old. Kelly finished the race in 4:34:22. Not a great time by her (own insane) standards. Parts of her ached, and other parts flat out hurt, but her body willed her on. She endured. She ran well. It shouldn't have surprised anyone. She was a runner, after all. She has been forever.

The day we left Boston, I found myself trying to make sense of what had happened. Why was I feeling so euphoric? This had been the first time, as an adult, that I had hung out with my family like this. Not counting my parents. Not counting my in-laws. Not counting my litter of kids. The rest of the people I shared my DNA with. The East Coast Woodman's. I hadn't had any real connection with any of them at all. Up until now. Yet, somehow we were still connected. We had a commonality. That thing you share with people you are related to. That thing that makes you alike. Your genetics. You souls. Your being. Whatever it was. It was there. Here was this bond that I had discovered, that I didn't even know I was missing. We all melded together seamlessly. Perfectly. I don't know why it surprised me. It shouldn't have. We were a family, after all. We have been forever.

"That whole other family" (L-R) Joey, Nina, Nadia, Sebastian, Jaxon, Zara, Norah, Georgia