The husband, daughter and I went to the greater St. Louis area for five days -- in July!, that's living on the edge! -- and had a really good time. Well, Abigail and I did. I think Brad had a surprisingly pleasant time given the sheer number of distant relatives he met.
I haven't lived in St. Louis for 22 years now, and I've now lived in the Carolinas for 12 years, but Missouri is still somehow like home. I love hearing my mom talking about where she and various family members lived. I love that there's a cemetery in the middle of nowhere where I can trace several generations of my family. I love that my simple trip to see my grandmother became a family reunion of 11 and another of 18 because that many people still live at least within traveling distance of the city.
And Missouri is beautiful. The roads carve through the hills, rocks layered in straight, buff-colored lines. I'd almost forgotten how hilly it is; Brad was reminded of the Blue Ridge foothills. And the broad, muddy rivers (particularly so right now), so different from their eastern counterparts.
We spent one day driving out to the old Buxton farm, where the road still says Buxton Acres and the Buxton headstones fill a row in the tiny cemetery, but where we are otherwise forgotten. It's eerie driving past the old house, seeing new homes where grandpa used to take us on tractor rides. And to think that once the entire valley belonged to my family. I really missed Dad as we tried to piece together the old stories for Brad and Abigail. So many questions you don't think to ask when you're 21.
We had dinner that night with Mom's nephew's and their families, then the next day was the mini-clan gathering of the Buxtons. I do miss the big family events. The afternoon at my aunt's was really nice, though, catching up with people I hadn't seen in as much as 8 years. And Brad really enjoyed my close-in-age cousins, who were thankfully much more talkative than the last couple times I saw them. Family is great.
The next day, so Brad and Abigail didn't have to spend their whole summer vacation meeting strangers, we went to the Arch. It really is so purty!
We went up, of course, and went around the Westward Expansion Museum -- which was disturbingly the same as when I went there as a little girl. The stuffed beavers weren't looking too hot, and some signage was missing. It really needs an update, lots more interactive things. I loved the museum when I was little, but that was before multimedia and I come from a family that reads all the plaques. I was disappointed it hadn't been modernized -- though of course there were two very shiny, new gift shops.
We also took a carriage ride along the river with a small pioneer girl we acquired along the way.
It was sad to leave and know that odds are we won't be back until my grandmother's funeral years from now. If it weren't so far away, Brad had enough fun with my relatives that he wouldn't be averse to going back. But now I have family on different coasts and different continents, so we must choose. Next stop, Florida at Christmas then England in the spring.
Welcome to my odditorium, a collection of curiosities made up of snippets about my life and occasional machinations on deeper subjects.
4 comments:
I was just yesterday explaining the important cultural difference between my mother being from "Missour-e" and my father being from "Missour-ah". Same state, but completely different. Also how when I was a little girl we went to museums to read, not push shiny buttons. Kids today, they have no culture!
---the sister
Abigail insists that it be called "Missour-ah" and that one says "warsh" while in the state -- then laughs hysterically and says, "There's no R!"
She is so your daughter! How many almost-6-year-olds would think to make fun of regional pronunciations like that? Hee hee!
So... which part of the state is Missouree and which part is Missourah?
I think ee is urban and ah is rural. Of course, dad said ah, but his sisters say ee, so who knows.
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