Animals of Autumn

This October has been full of life - wildlife. Here are the season's standouts to date:

Snake

My wife and I recently purchased bicycles. We believed that this investment would yield multiple positive results - physical exercise, strengthen our marriage, and give us the ability to pedal away from our children. Maybe one day we will have apparatuses to connect our kids to our bikes, but for now, we want no such appartuses. We want babysitters.

Alas, our first ride in our revived bicycling lives came on the Path of the Flood Trail. On a sunny and comfortable Sunday morning, we were on wheels and headed for the Staple Bend Tunnel. I had run through this old railroad tunnel before. My wife, bless her heart, never went through the tunnel and she forgot to take her sunglasses off. Trailing her, I thought she was just a bit rusty on a bike. Turns out, she was biking blind. It was a world of difference when she realized her error and gained sight.

We ate lunch at a picnic table at the end of the trail. Bending down to reorganize my sling bag for the venture back, I was surprised by a slithery fellow. At approximately 3 feet in length, this motionless reptile eyed me up. With a stick, I gave him a nudge to promote his passage off the trail. The serpent, believed to be a corn snake, went off into the thicket, safe from bicycle tires.

Phil & Smokey

It sounds like a dive bar band, but it is in fact my daughters two favorite participants in the Fort Ligonier Days Parade. The Punxsutwaney groundhog and the bear who tells us, "Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires" drew high praise. Phil, a celebrated rodent, did not look that enthused. Smokey the Bear was waving his paws in omnivore glory.

Buzzards

Our 2nd bike ride of October was on the Ghosttown Trail. After about a 12-mile trek, we looked up at a beautiful blue sky. The yellow sun shined bright. And over a dozen buzzards circled the trees near the Dilltown parking lot, patiently waiting for someone or something to go all black. I did not fear death because I still had my helmet on. Take that, vultures. Safety first.

Shark

This Saturday was the Red Cross Vampire 5K and 10K in Richland. The plan was to bring the whole family in costume, but Dad was the only soul to brave the rain and the chill. I was a shark. Before the race I conversed with Flouder from Little Mermaid. Nice guy.  At one point while running,  I was side-by-side with a chipmunk (Simon). Two teenage girls beat me wearing bloody T-shirts. I smelled the blood, but could not catch them. I did not stay for the award ceremony. I finished 1st in the aquatic animals division.

The Lion and the Cobra

In Psalm 91 for this Sunday it is written: "You will tread on the lion and the cobra". YIKES. What does this mean? Was that a cobra I saw on the Path of the Flood Trail?  I am still trying to figure out my bicycle and The Bible - a lot of gears; a lot of words. I am grateful for my faith and my family - that's the combo that keeps my gears going.

Goodnight Johnstown.

Racoons - stay out of our garbage. It's not funny.

Farm to Table

 As a youngster, I remember the glory and majesty of the field trip. On Friday, I was part of a barnyard brigade led by the teachers @ Geneva Preschool. Amongst 3 and 4 year-olds, I found glory once more in the great outdoors. Here is a recap of a morning @ the Schantz Haus Farm in Davidsville.

Shout with the Sheep

The experience began with an adrenaline pump. Small children eyed up sheep. The sheep, eyes incredibly far apart, approached the children. Between the parties, a fence. Let the loud begin. Outnumbered but not to be intimidated, sheep shouts seized the autumn air. On a brisk October morning, a half dozen or so sheep defeated a dozen + kids in a weird noises showdown.

Hay Ride

For logistical and psychological purposes, the 3 and 4 year-olds were separated after the sheep start. The 3-year-olds and their families got the first shot at the hay ride. I believe this was a strategic move. If the tractor would break down, 4-year-olds would deal better with the disappointment of not getting to do a hay ride. They are more mature. Plus, if the tractor breaks down with a bunch of 3-years-old onboard, they are less inclined to identify tractor terror.

Making a climb up a grassy knoll, our 76-year-old tractor felt much like the Little Engine That Could. Surrounded by corn fields, it felt like we were going to end up in one. Alas, our resident farmer and tractor puller got us to the summit. After surviving the trek, we laid eyes on the graveyard where the founder of Johnstown, Joseph Johns, is laid to rest. It was a beautiful view. We got a little history lesson and got out of there before a 3-year-old asked if bodies are buried under those statutes.

Red Angus

For the cow encounter, I focused on one cow that was different than all the rest. I was working on colors with my 1-year-old. Calling this unique mooing beast "brown", I was embarassed. It was actually a "red" angus. Leave the teaching for the educators and the farmers, Dad. That's what my youngest daughter said to me...with her nonverbals.

The Big Machine

If desired, each kid got to climb up a monstrous farm machine and pretend to drive. I have no idea what this big-wheeled thing does. During the explanation, my youngest daughter was fascinated by a rock and I pretended to be; just two cave dwellers roaming the farm. Both my kids got behind the wheel. This was the scariest part of the field trip.

The Big Pee

For the grand finale, we got to go into the sheep enclosure. Think Running of the Bulls except instead of Spain, it's Pennsylvania and there is a wind chill factor. Then, my 3-year-old declares she has to pee. As I wrote last week, there is no thrill in easy access to a bathroom. Escaping a sheep stampede and following a farmer to the potty...now that's glory.

Lunch

What better place to eat after all that farm fun than Crow's Nest?  Keeping the animal theme going, we had great grub. We got a table for 6 for our family of 4. We need extra chairs to climb and excess table to color, spill, push silverware, and pass snacks. Thankfully, our kids left to try to play billards and lottery machines.

A special Thank You to those who teach and those who farm. Geneva Preschool has been a blessing. The Schantz Haus Farm was one happy hay ride of a day. I'm glad I went and we didn't tip over.

Can't wait for my next field trip!

Bedlam to Bedford and Back

On the first Saturday of October, our family went on a road trip. Inspired by Clark Griswald and at the mercy of a bizzare Mother Nature, we crossed county lines in an outrageous Subaru Outback.

Step #1:Install Bike Rack

There was no cycling on this trip. My wife and I just believed we needed to seize the moment. It was sunny; however, installation and parenting do not go together. Then, the clouds decided to unleash rain. So, now we have combined slippery conditions with amateur installation with haphazard supervision. Our children ended up running through the backyard half-naked yet fully satisfied. 

Step #2: Be at Peace with the Pumpkin

Call it a mystery, a tragedy, or an act of vandalism, but there is no denying the following: A creature of the night ate through my wife's jack-o-lantern and it brought her to tears. It bewildered my 3-year-old. My 1-year-old did not care because a slug found refuge in the mangled pumpkin. Security footage might have captured a Halloween-hating raccoon devouring my wife's work of art. But, we do not have security cameras. We don't even have cable. And now, we don't even have a pumpkin. We have an orange, slug house. 

Step #3: Get in the Car

It's a simple, four-word command, but it's sometimes the equivalent of "Walk on the Moon". My wife came out of the house carrying so many bags, you would have thought she was a medic in a war zone. 

Step #4: Find a Parking Spot

Bedford's Fall Foliage Festival attracts a crowd. And on this Saturday, it felt more like summer than autumn. Once we found a place to park, we applied sunscreen. Nothing like a nice October lather. With our kids in hiking packs, my wife and I foot solidered onto the concrete jungle. 

Step #5: Find a Treat

How do you beat the heat? Carmel apple slices. My eldest daughter disagreed with the decision to get slices. This was bush league in her preschool mind. My youngest was less perturbed, but passed. Thus, my wife and I ate carmel apple slices. They were delicious and we were sweaty. 

Step #6: Find a Bathroom 

When you go out into public with small children it always comes down to "finding" things. There is no thrill in having to go to the bathroom when a bathroom is right there. A parent needs that threat level thought that my child might pee their pants and those pants might be on my back. And it's 80 degrees in October and 110 degrees in a porta potty. 

And when you make it to Hebrews Coffee Company and everyone is okay, you celebrate a successful pee. I'll take an Iced Pumpkin Pecan Latte and a Wildberry Smoothie. We just climbed Everest. 

Step #7: Load the Car

Unlike loading a gun, this is much more difficult. Actually, I've never loaded a gun, but it's got to be easier than loading the car. If my wife makes another Jack-O-Lantern and it's eaten by an animal, I'm going to learn how to load a firearm. 

Step #8: Feed the Goats

I hoped that both children would fall asleep on the short drive to Jean Bonnet Tavern. The plan was to eat a late lunch while they slumbered in a booth. Well, only one of them fell asleep (youngest) and the tavern was packed. So, we sacrficed our own hunger and fed seed to the establishment's trio of resident goats. My 3-year-old greatly enjoyed having these wide-eyed beasts eat out of the palm of her hand. 

Step #9: Reload the Car

Clean your goat hands and get in. We are getting on Route 30 and driving off into the sun /rain /sun/ rain. What is going on with Mother Nature?

Step #10: Coal Mining

We wound up at Coal Miner's Cafe in Jennerstown. The outdoor seating was perfect for our wrecking crew. As the apocalypse rolled in from the west, our children got to run wild on the expansive patio. They even found a Daddy Long-Legs camoflauged on the brick wall. We counted his legs and I served as arachnid body guard. While this spider was most likely psychologically damaged, he kept all eight of his long legs and for that, he should be thankful. 

Step #11: Listen to Your Sister

On the ride home I reminded my wife of the threat my oldest daughter gave my youngest on the way to Bedford. In a no-nonsense declaration, "Stop crying or you are going to sleep in my armpit."

Step #12: Rain

As we pulled up to our humble abode, it started raining again. My wife was crying in laughter over the memory of the armpit warning. The half-eaten pumpkin was still in the front yard. It was a full day.

Good night, Johnstown. Take care of your families. Take care of your pumpkins.

Weekend of Dad

On the final Friday of September, my wife drove to Virginia for a family wedding. She returned on Sunday afternoon. I was master and commander of our home. Separated by 26 months, my daughters were my primary responsibility. The breakdown:

Dance Dad

Right out of the gates - a true test. While my parents watched my youngest, I took my 3-year-old to ballet and tap class at Concepts Dance Studio on Friday night. This was my first time in a dance studio; not as a father, but as a human. My daughter was unaware of how unqualified I was. Surrounded by Dance Moms and behind the glass window, I awkwardly stood, pretending I was at a hockey game.

Post-dance I made sure to congratulate my daughter. I focused on how dedicated she was in keeping a straight line during a ballet sequence. This was because I was geninuely impressed and it was the only honest commentary I could make. A special "Thank You" to the Concepts instructors.

LET'S GO PENS!

Daddy Dia

To conclude the evening, my girls and I watched Momma Mia on Netflix. This is not because we were looking for symmetry after dance class. This is because my 1-year-old yearns for Momma Mia on a daily basis. I believe she has dance and sung with Meryl Streep every day since mid-August.

Run Dad

On Saturday morning, I ran away. It was planned. My parents watched my Thelma and Louise while I participated in the 10th running of the Conemaugh Que Classic, a glorious autumn 5K. Six autumns prior,  I laced up for my first 5K at the Quemahoming Dam. I had no kids. I was 4 months into marriage. In 2018, it felt weird to be at the Que Classic with no wife, no kids, and to have a post-race cinnamon roll I did not have to share.

I ate the whole thing.

Party Dad

Hours later, I was at a 1-year-old's birthday party. It was outside and featured a gated balloon community (a designated driveway area for balloons and children, featuring a protective pad to roll upon), a bubble machine, an ice cream sundae bar, crafts galore, cheese curls, and of course, fire. Parents talked to parents about how easy life was. When we got home, my 3-year-old fell asleep at 6:50 PM and slept until 6:00 AM on Sunday. I can't wait for this kid's 2nd birthday.

Leap of Faith Dad

Our family regularly attends a fellowship known as Cafe Sunday @ Mill House Cafe in Westmont. It gives our children creative license when it comes to Bible learning. I am all about exposing my daughters to a spiritual smorgasbord and so far, so good. Mill House Sundays has evolved into something I absolutely look forward to and my kids get a kick out of the experience. "Meditations of my heart" was the big takeway on the final Sunday of September.

I love my girls and was ready for my wife to come home.

Friendship Dad

But, there was still one more adventure. I picked up my mother and it was all aboard to Friendship Park in Ligonier. As part of our American Ninja Warrior circuit, Friendship Park offers a wide-range of challenges including a rock wall, shaky, ascending bridge, and a gigantic mushroom balance test. I pretend to be a highly paid announcer to the Ninja Sisters.

After the exercise, we refueled at Carol and Dave's Roadhouse. We toasted to our achievements on the outdoor deck. A pesky bumble bee yearned for our lemonade like it was Momma Mia. My family survived and some how, so did the bee.

Mom!

When we got home, my daughters and I welcomed our leader back. Mom was proud of our adventures and glad there were no catastrophes. From dancing to running to partying to faith leaping to Ninja warrioring, we did it.

As Abba says, "having the time of your life!"

Lawn Mower Dad

I cut the grass to conclude the weekend. Sorry, Meryl. This isn't a Greek island. This is real life.

On the Map

During the first two weekends of September, there was a swoop of events in Johnstown. As summer turns to fall, traditions, old and new, serve as community celebrations. Our family of four traveled the land to be a part of the party.

It all started with the 30th edition of Ethnic Fest, Cambria City's 3-day doozy. 2018 was a spicy year for Ethnic Fest. High humidity made pierogies extra sweaty. While the sun beamed, our daughters ran wild in their great grandmother's backyard. She lives right in the heart of Ethnic Fest and she set up shop well before the festival debuted. Each September her home becomes a stomping ground for trips down memory lane and lamb sandwiches. Especially this year, her porch allowed festival wanderers to take a seat and beat the heat.

By Day 3 of Ethnic Fest, we had devoured a gauntlet of goodies. The ethnicities represented in Cambria City do little to promote the vegetable. The closest thing to a salad at Ethnic Fest is an onion you get with a lamb sandwich from Ace's. That onion might not satisfy your food pyramid portion, but it will stick with you for the rest of the weekend. With onion in my soul, I led our brigade to the Log House Arts Festival.

Arts Fest celebrated its 48th year this time around. Held on Menoher Boulevard in Westmont, Arts Fest became our launching pad to Christmas shopping. Nothing says "fa-la-la-la" like slithering through vendor tents with combative children in the summer. We found refuge in the Community Arts Center, an air-conditioned oasis. Inside, my daughters abandoned me in the face paint line, proceeding to paint rocks. Simply because I waited so patiently, I tinkered with getting my face painted. Also, I was leary of being anywhere close to my 3-year-old while she had a rock. We left peacefully. I without face paint, the rock not thrown.

The following Saturday, I ran in the 3rd running of the Jim Mayer Trail Family Fun Run. Unrelenting rain made for a bone-soaked 5K. I ran in a dedicated herd on this local trail recently designated a National Recreational Trail. Hugging the Stonycreek River, the trail is a flat and friendly trek for walkers, runners, and bikers. I took off before the awards ceremony A) because I was not going to be awarded and B) the potential of being stricken with hypothermia. I survived and a greater challenge lied ahead - watching my kids.

While I transitioned back to Dad, Mom arrived at the 6th annual Sandyvale Wine Festival. Marriage involves strategy. Dad got to run free in the morning. Mom got to drink wine in the afternoon. Both man and woman are joyous and agree to reunite in the evening. Just like every Sandyvale session, my wife gave two thumbs up to the event.

4 events. 2 September weekends. 1 hometown.

Here comes autumn. Enjoy the rest of your summer.

Weekend Play-By-Play

In the spirit of football season, this is a play-by-play for the last weekend of August 2018. Like football, parenting can be intense with the potential for blindside hits, illegal formations, and heroic combinations.

Saturday

4:00 A.M. - My youngest running back (age 17 months) decides to stand in her crib and yell to her Mom. Not a scream or panic attack, just a loud request. Little does she know, her Mom is sleeping in her sister's room at the time.

4:15 A.M. - She finally switches to "Dad". Her request sounds more aggressive, but judging tact and tone is difficult at this hour.

4:20 A.M. - I take my youngest scrapper to the recliner. She finds comfort. For the next 2.5 hours she sleeps. I twitch and live in a state of fear - not wanting her to wake up, not wanting to fully fall asleep. It is "rest".

7:00 A.M. -  Our family of four begins to get ready for a "big day", the two-word description for every 24 hours on Earth.

8:55 A.M. - Depart for Stackhouse Park for the Run Park 5K followed by the Park Picnic and Jamboree. I  lovingly tell my wife en route, "If you don't see me at the finish line, it's okay, I just needed some more time alone."

9:30 A.M. - Race begins. Forest freedom.

9:59 A.M. - Cross the finish line as my wife, kids, and my parents cheer me on. Grateful for my family and the park I absolutely love.

10:00 A.M. - 11:30 A.M. -  Participate in a gauntlet of Jamboree activities: make sunglasses, pet dogs, eat hot dogs, run through hula hoops, eat corn on the cob, listen to music, nervously watch children cross a stream bridge, eat more corn on the cob.

1:00 P.M. - Mom gets a "parental hiatus" to restore order in the home and in her brain. I quarterback a trip to a 2-year-old birthday party. My mother sits shotgun. Both girls strapped in and making noise.

1:15 P.M. -3:30 P.M. - Attend an epic birthday party that features homemade pizza, an ice cream truck, and music blasting out of the garage. It was an awesome party. One I would never, never, never want to organize and orchestrate. Parents just wandered the grounds, all thinking the same thing - "Great party...this clean up is going to be awful."

3:45 P.M. - My oldest daughter (3 years, 7 months) is calling me "Mom" and in a vulnerable haze. Her body wishes to escape reality, while her mind refuses to embrace naptime.

4:00 P.M. - Subaru-induced sleep.

7:00 P.M. - Our family hosts a fire in our backyard. Multiple children and parents attend. Fire provides warmth and danger. Mothers and fathers protect their young while enjoying open flame.

10:00 P.M. - Fire out. No one fell in. Live to see another day. My oldest wants to sleep outside. We head in .

Sunday

3:00 A.M. - My oldest wakes me up in "our fort". She declares "I am not sleepy". We transition from fort to bed.

7:30 A.M. - Mom and our youngest burst into the room. "Wakey, wakey, we don't have time for eggs and bacy".

9:00 A.M. - Café Sunday @ Mill House Café in Westmont. My kids have grown to love this fellowship. They learn about faith, music and community in one super swoop. At one point, my oldest disagrees with the lyric "Oh my God". She corrects everyone with "Oh my Gosh". Get it right or pay the price.

11:00 A.M. - Spirituality Round 2 @ Our Mother of Sorrows mass. In the 4th quarter, aka the halfway point of mass, things get a little violent (spilled goldfish, screaming, pew dash, team meeting, intercept kids). I take the youngest on to the streets for 1-on-1 counseling. Mom heads back into the Catholic huddle with our veteran.

11:45 A.M. - I do my job. I go to communion with a cute, sleeping daughter. Everyone looks at me and thinks, "what a composed father". Minutes before, we were sweating on the sidewalk and talking to ourselves.

12:15 P.M. - Parish picnic outside the church that incorporates water. Fire on Saturday. Water on Sunday. Parents watch their children dodge aquatic dangers while discussing the rigors of parenting. At one point, my youngest daughter sits alone on the pavement, pushing stones and dirt around with pure joy.

2:30 P.M. - My wife takes our oldest to a 1-year-old's birthday party. My youngest and I are designated to watch golf on television. This was her idea.

3:00 P.M. - My wife is in the thick of a birthday party bonanza @ Heritage Discovery Center. She reports it was awesome. She never, never, never wants to organize or orchestrate such a scene. I report watching golf was awesome. I never, never, never want to attend a PGA event, but I recognize it is my Dad duty to live out my golf dreams on my parents' couch.

 4:30 P.M.- My youngest and I depart Westmont and hike through Stackhouse back to Brownstown. I push our adventure stroller while she goes along for the ride. She protects her baby doll from critters.

6:30 P.M. - Porch dinner and discover that baby robins have hatched in our front yard tree. The crowd goes wild. Mother robin looks concerned. Her nest is on lunatic property.

8:00 P.M. - My wife and I decide to take the kids to Shaffer's Frosty Freeze. Hard day, soft serve.

9:15 P.M. - Oldest daughter is mesmerized by an "orangish moon". We pull the Subaru up to the Inclined Plane lookout to get a better glimpse. A small army of high school kids are talking about their semester schedules. My daughter will begin school in September. She's ready, no doubt. She currently thinks the moon comes out of the sun.

Two days.

Two kids.

Two parents.

One fun place to build a family.

Goodnight Johnstown, big day ahead.

Dance, Walk, Run

DWR cardio is critical to my Dad life. My girls and I are always on the prowl for Dancing, Walking, or Running. Without movement, we can become cranky, hysterical, and even destructive. DWR can be scheduled or spur of the moment. Here is the latest and greatest around Johnstown.

In preparation for the Walk to End Alzheimer's, our family attended a fundraiser at B&L Wine Cellars in Cambria City. Shortly after entering the event, my oldest daughter wanted to exit. She was well aware that the Stonycreek River was in walking distance. A goose sighting was essential before mingling with the people. We said "Hi" to one lone, silly goose and shuffled back to the action.

Lux and Company provided musical entertainment, including a cover of the Police's Message in a Bottle. The repetition of "sending out an SOS" is something every parent can identify with. SOS translation - "urgent cry for help"; however, on this night, there was a lot of dancing and no distress. Join us on Saturday, September 22nd for the Walk to End Alzheimer's @ Windber Recreation Park. Registration starts at 8 A.M. Opening ceremony is at 9. Walk is at 9:30. Dancing is at your discretion. 

To provide an extra jolt, running does the trick. In her illustrious stroller career, my 3-year-old has competed in eight races as an enthusiastic passenger. During her most recent run, the Round the Mound 5K, she provided lyrical inspiration around Westmont. After singing to the finish line, she enjoyed a post-race hot dog with her fellow competitors. I am the proud father of this blonde blast.

Watching baseball and DWR do not gel together, but we made it work for the opening night of the AAABA tournament. While Mom and our youngest held down the fort, the blonde blast and I headed for the Point Stadium. The coming and going was the biggest thrill via the Inclined Plane. There was no way we would have lasted for an entire game of baseball, but we could have rode the Inclined Plane until sunrise. When the Inclined car is in motion, kids are doing all sorts of DWR.

Upon leaving the game, my daughter got another glimpse of the mighty Stonycreek. She asked me if there were "octopusses in there". She showed no emotional reaction to my "No". She zoomed up the ramp toward the Inclined Plane, exclaiming, "It's a beautiful night in a beautiful city!"

She keeps me dancing, walking, and running. Her sister is starting to catch up. My wife and I sometimes are on the brink of losing our minds.

But, it's a beautiful ride.

One dance, walk, or run at a time.