Not only does PA call itself a Commonwealth, but so do four other states! For a prize of an autodidact trip to Gettysburg, PA, what are the other 3 states? The answers are below. I've written them backwards.
SSAM, YK, and AV.
Just gimme a car and a radio and I'll travel anywhere. Never was I so aware of the importance of auto travel than on my week's vacation with Scott. We took turns driving while the other one slept, noshed on red apples, adjusted the radio stations, checked her phone messages. The summer has yet to begin and yet the traffic was horrific.
Unlike me, Scott is stoic. He won't eat while he drives or even sip from a bottle of water. I get restless when I drive and need constant entertainment.
Oh! Look what I just found on the empty chair next to my desk. It's this huge folded postcard of the cyclorama at Gettysburg Memorial Battlefield, one of the best museums in the whole world, I'd venture. We spent two days there. The Gettysburg Cyclorama Panoramic Strip is one of the greatest battle scenes ever painted. It's located within the Visitors Center and is larger than a FOOTBALL FIELD. Begun in 1882, 20 years after the South's worst defeat in the War Against the States, French artist Paul Philippoteaux had 5 assistants to help create this larger than life phantasmagoria that brings viewers right into the battle.
We all stood around a circular platform while lights flashed on and off, a lifelike sunrise arose in the east, and cannon-fire frightened us with its loud booming sounds, followed by the blast of musket-fire. Bam bam bam!
Music played to highlight the drama. Drums and bugles were coded information sent out from regiment to regiment while horse-riding couriers hand-delivered messages.
I said to our licensed tour-bus guide, Dave Richards, I'm learning about all the history I missed when I was a kid.
We stayed at a terrific hotel, Country Inn and Sweets, where I arose at 8 yesterday morning - yes, only yesterday - and went for a lone swim in the indoor swimming pool. How refreshing!
When we finished up Gettysburg, we drove about 45 minutes south to the little-known Grotto in Emmitsburg, MD, a shrine dedicated to Bernadette of Lourdes, my favorite saint, I wrote a poem about her once, I doubt if I can find it, it was very clever. I did research on the real Bernadette Soubirous in the Hatboro Library, a 14-year-old peasant girl who claimed to see The Holy Mother 18 times. That's 17 times more than I've seen her.
Altho, wait a sec, there she is right now, on the Adams Family Roof right next door! She's wearing that lovely blue robe just like her statue.
The Grotto was spectacular. No one was there but the gnats. It had been raining so they rained down on us. I wore a hooded sweatshirt and had to wear my hood so they couldn't get into my ears. When I got home and itched my ears, I found some dead ones in there. YUK YUK YUK!!!
When you get home from vacation, life starts all over again. You know, the emails, the returning phone calls, jeez, I even had to write a Letter to the Editor earlier today. Life goes on and on until it stops. Not yet, thankfully, I've still got a lot of writing to do before I'm all used up like a delicious stick of black licorice with only the wrapper left.
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