Last weekend my husband and I took our two boys (and the dog) to visit my parents. I grew up in the ‘Endless Mountains’ of Pennsylvania and as a teen lamented the lack of things “to do”.

My boys, however, think that a trip to grandma and grandpa’s house is a huge treat. This weekend, the weather was wonderful and we spent a lot of time outside exploring my hometown and the surrounding hillsides. We wandered along the train tracks, following them into town (and picking up old railroad spikes). Once in town, we passed the old firehouse that was built in 1901 and is still in use today. The boys were thrilled to find that the firemen there have (and use) a firepole. Then we ended up at the pond where they fed baby geese. My boys were so excited, we had to hold onto their shirts to keep them from falling in the pond.

Later, we drove out of the valley and up a hill to a friend’s property (where I took the first picture). There, we searched for fossils by visting an old quary and following a stream uphill.

Growing up in the hills of PA, I took fossils in the streams for granted. But my husband and boys were thrilled to find them lying all over. (I’d never thought to take them creek walking there before… and by the end of the weekend, our trunk was filled with rocks.)

Back at my parents’ home, the boys also spent a lot of time in The Cellar with grandpa. Briefly, my dad has filled the cellar with machinery (saws of all kinds, lathes, tools, hardwear, glue…). My dad builds and flies model airplanes and has been teaching the boys to drive a model monster truck with a remote control (I suspect he’s working up to airplanes).  Planes crash and are decomissioned… the monster truck was reduced to wheels last fall….  On this trip, grandpa and the boys disappeared into The Cellar, the usual strange noises floated up the stairwell, and this is what emerged:

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It drives just fine. But no matter how fast my seven-year-old drove, it refused to take off.