Summer Road Trips

Today I am participating in the SOL event hosted at Two Writing Teachers.  Thanks, Ruth & Stacey.

After several days of work I finally said goodbye to my classroom for the summer.  Books are back on the shelves, supplies are put away, charts are off the walls, and there is very little sign that learning takes place there for most of the year.  

Having that work behind me allowed me to begin to kick off summer with some of my favorite events. I joined the 48 Hour Book Challenge, planned summer learning, filled my Shelfari shelf with books I hope to read (both pleasure and professional), and started filling my calendar with times to catch up with friends and family.  

Today I started with the first road trip of the summer.  Each summer my dad waits until I have my classroom closed down and then we take a day to drive to Logan County where he grew up.

There's nothing quite like a road trip with Dad.  We kick off our trip with a coffee stop and then visit the cemeteries of relatives, place flowers on several graves, stop at a local farmer's market, tell stories of generations before us, drive by my great grandmother's old lake house, and of course stop to eat at the Tilton Hilton.

Picture via IndianLakeArea.com
Why didn't I take a pic?  Goodness.

If you haven't visited the Titlon Hilton, it's worth the stop.  It likely gets its name because the floor inside actually tilts.  I'm pretty sure we were sitting at least at a 25 degree angle as we ate.  The building sits along the lake and has seating inside and out.  The people who work there are always friendly.  We, of course, go there for the hamburgers.  They are delicious!  I'm not kidding when I say the hamburgers are the size of my fist.

My great grandma
(that's me on the far right)

We go there to reminisce too.  When I was young my great grandmother had a house at the lake.  We loved to go there because Grandma was so much fun.  I guess after you live a long time you learn about priorities.  You learn what really matters and what really doesn't.

Visiting Grandma at the lake we had a lot of freedom.  We were able to go fishing, take pedal boats out on the water, walk to the beach to swim, shop the local candy store, and play in the tar bubbled streets (cars never went down the road).  Grandma didn't plan to eat at a  certain time.  She didn't plan to be anywhere at a certain time.  She just had time for you.  We'd paint ceramics, play games, laugh over stories, and eat whenever we were hungry.  My dad tells some of these same stories about time spent at the lake.

Driving by the abandoned house I think my dad and I notice its emptiness, yet at the same time I think we see the stories that rest within its walls.  We both have to smile a little.  Those stories and times at the lake fill us with great joy still --- as do these road trip adventures.