Today Simon had another "hot interview" to conduct so Frederick and I had a long, hot and muggy afternoon to kill. After gadding about all yesterday afternoon (shopping at Runyans to feed his hunger for clay supplies--he's a pottery addict since taking a wheel class at the FIA) and then rollerskating at Davison park, he seemed content to stay at home looking at books...until, that is, I asked him if he wanted to go to the zoo. "Yes. Let's go!" he said, hopped up and headed out the door.
I didn't think twice about whether or not the zoo would be open today. Why wouldn't it be? It's a weekday in the middle of the summer and the weather was fine. We pulled up to the parking lot attendant at 2:53 and paid the parking fee (twice the usual rate because we don't live in Lansing!). Just as he was stretching out his hand to give me the receipt he said, "If you want to go into the zoo, you need to get to the gates by 3:00." (At that moment, I checked my car's clock to see that it was 2:54.) Ok, I said--and I began to charge off. "BUT--" he stuck his hand out to stop me pulling away. "It's because we are having an event tonight." (pause for big breath) "Normally, the gates are open later." (another pause) "But if you enter by 3:00, you can stay until 5:30." (giant inhale, readying himself for another speech) I waved thanks and peeled away. We got to the gates with 2 minutes to spare.
Frederick knows the zoo well and only stops to see his favorites: the otters (which were hiding AGAIN: I have long ago decided that they don't actually exist), the wolves, the tigers and the rhino. But his absolute favorite are the lions. We stopped here and watched the male and two females lounging three times. If there was a comfy chair to sit in near the fence, Frederick would be there still.
I've seen a pony ride exhibit every time I have gone, but there were never any ponies. This time there were two, Jet (a tiny brown one) and Moon, a (relatively) larger pony with a small white crescent mark on her forehead. Apparently only Moon can carry a kid over 100 pounds (and under 125, so we have a few years left). Frederick was very excited about the whole thing.
I kept thinking of Thomas (who is, as I type this, in Paris getting geared up to meet his first host family and begin a long series of concerts) when he was Frederick's age: Thomas always wanted to ride ponies, but would never allow himself to do it because he would think he ought not. Fortunately for Frederick, he has no such reservations.
Here we are, back with the lions for the third time.
After about 90 minutes of circling around the place with a pit stop at the lion den each revolution, the weather suddenly turned hot, humid and heavy. Frederick announced he was ready to go home--but, before we could go to the car, we had to stop and get this picture as we have done every single time we have visited Potter zoo.
This innocent enough looking tiny door in our upstairs bathroom is at the top of a long drop through the wall of our house down to the basement, which ends here:
This would be great (no need to carry heavy, dirty laundry down two stories, just drop it through the door and walk away) except, as I just said, we have found shampoo and conditioner bottles, toothbrushes, toys, cups and everything else that had been tossed down the chute mixed up into our laundry. Also, another problem is that when we had our kitchen remodeled many years ago, the guy who installed our cabinets screwed one screw through the wall into the chute and, ever since, stuff gets caught and clothing clogs form. Tonight after his bath Frederick came down and announced that we needed to get something he put "in the door up top" which we took to mean that he had dropped something AGAIN down the chute and now regretted it. Simon got a big stick and set to dislodge the clog. He came up about 10 minutes later with two shirts neither of us have any memory of owning or wearing. I reminded him of the time, a few years ago, when we dislodged a clog and a toy whale wearing whale underpants popped loose. Here is the back story on that: About three years ago, we were the host family to that Irish kid, Darragh, who was part of that Irish fiddlers group the FIM was hosting. One night when we were sitting around talking, Frederick dropped his stuffed whale and shark into his fish tank (which is why he no longer has a fish tank in his room). We saved the fish (one had ended up on the floor) and put the toys into the bathtub to dry off. Next thing we knew, Frederick had gotten up and dropped them down the chute--and then became extremely upset because they didn't appear at the bottom. SO, I got a stick out to wiggle the toys loose. After a whole lot of nothing, suddenly I heard a "whoosh" and out popped a stuffed shark followed by a whale wearing a tiny, TINY pair of underwear (one that Thomas wore when he was 2 or 3 years old) with a tiny whale patch on it. Flash forward tonight, Simon set to work on the chute clot one more time and then, whoosh, out plopped a whale wearing a tiny pair of underpants--this time, with a "Sea Life" patch.
How many more tiny pairs of sea themed underpants can be trapped in one house's walls?
