Mother Goose Land

You know how some memories fade from your conscious thought process over time?  You can go years without having that thing that was the source of ultimate elation or that caused you some childhood trauma cross your mind and then one day someone brings it up in casual conversation.  Or, more and more often with today's technology, they post about it on Facebook. And bam!!  You are a 5-year old quivering puddle of ook all over again.

Yeah.  That happened.

These are someone else's 1950/1960-era family pictures (quite possibly Patty Pickett, who posted them in the You Grew Up in Idaho Falls... Facebook group yesterday)  from a trip to Mother Goose Land in Island Park, Idaho.  Mother Goose land is gone today but was a popular stop for area families going to camp, fish and hunt in the Park until it was torn down sometime in the 1970s.

 I only vaguely remember this building.  My memory of most of this place is so vague I could probably talk myself into believing this house was from somewhere else and I've just jumbled the memories together in my mind but since they are someone else's pictures and they also identify it as Mother Goose Land...  This is one of the magical 'fairy' houses in this kiddie road side attraction.  For the day, it might have even been called an amusement park.  I'm pretty sure there was a carousel there at the very least...

One of the pint-sized houses that could be played in and around.  I think there were several of them scattered throughout the area.

It all seems pretty innocent so far, huh?

But the next picture is the part of the attraction that gave me nightmares!  This atrocity was so frightening to me as a small child!!  I had nightmares for weeks and would wake up shaking and sobbing about getting eaten by the giant bunny.  It probably didn't help that my family found my terror to be hysterically funny...

There was a motion sensor activated speaker in this bunny statue.  When you walked by it, it would start talking to you in a really rough gravely voice.  Scared the pee out of my 5-year old self!!  I don't remember if that's literally true or not... but oh my gosh!  Walking up to that thing scared me so bad.  I did not want to go near it.  I did not care to pass by it and see the rest of the attraction.  All I wanted was far far away from it!  And my Dad kept pushing me toward it despite me putting full force into not taking a step and twisting out of his grip and screaming like a banshee while my mom, aunt, uncle and a couple of cousins laughed so hard they were holding their sides and had to wipe away tears.

Just the picture creeps me out.  Still!!  Which is weird because I actually enjoy exploring road side oddities and random attractions.  I'm even geek enough to stop and read historical markers.  Now...  But at 5, a giant talking rabbit was just not cool!

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Edit:  Mother Goose Land was designed and built by Fontella Nickle Pederson in 1956.  Here is her obituary from the Idaho Falls Post Register April 2009:

"Fontella Nickle Pedersen, 78, of Idaho Falls, Idaho, passed away on April 19, 2009. She was under the care of Good Samaritan Care Facility. She was born April 20, 1930, in Springfield, Missouri, to Clayton Nickle and Luzernia Jackson Nickle. She married Ronald Hugh Pedersen on November 19, 1949. Their marriage was later solemnized in the Idaho Falls Temple.

In 1956, she created, wrote and starred in a children's television show "Fon's Fairyland" on KID-TV. Fon designed and built Mother Goose Land in Island Park, Idaho, with her friend Margaret Munk. Her artistic vision and abilities were enjoyed by children and adults for many years in this nursery rhyme theme park. She was a gifted artist and expressed this talent through painting, writing poetry and short stories, sewing and sculpting. She taught art classes and loved to travel.

Fon was a faithful member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and served in many various callings throughout the years. She touched many lives by her kind, generous and loving nature, and was loved by all who knew her.

She is survived by her husband, Ronald; children, Rhonda (Troy) Belka, Deborah (Clark) Vanderniet, Kris (Colleen) Pedersen, Richard (Deanna) Pedersen, Jana (Tony) Malovich, Lisa (Joe) Cawley and Ryan (Tammy) Pedersen; sister, Mignon Johnson; brother, Jerry Nickle; brother, Monty Nickle; 27 grandchildren; and six great-grandchildren. Fontella was preceded in death by her parents and her brother, Jack.

Funeral services will be held at 11 a.m. on Thursday, April 23, at Buck-Miller-Hann Funeral Home, located at 825 E. 17th St. in Idaho Falls. The family will receive friends from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. tonight and at 10 a.m. Thursday prior to the services. Interment will be in Wasatch Lawn Memorial Park, located at 3401 Highland Drive in Salt Lake City, Utah. Funeral arrangements are under the direction of Buck Miller Hann Funeral Home. Condolences may be sent to the family."

The Battle of New Hope Church

One of my resolutions for 2015 is to spend more time exploring my local surroundings.  So to start off, I thought I'd back up a few months and show you one I finally got to see last July.  I'd been wanting to go look at the site and the historical markers for a long time, but I was waiting for my self-proclaimed history buff companion to decide he could be bothered.  I gave up on that and went with a visiting friend.

Located where the present day Dallas Acworth Highway intersects E. Paulding Ave (which continues west from there as Old Cartersville Road - have I mentioned lately how confusing I find roads that suddenly change names at a random intersection?) is the site of one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War, that of New Hope Church, fought in May 1864.  Yes, the battle was fought in and around this very simple and unpretentious little church!

New Hope Church as it appears today.

One of 12 "Unknown" soldiers buried at the
New Hope Cemetery.

"Unnamed, unknown, remain and still remain the bravest soldiers. Our manliest, our boys, our hardy darlings: no picture gives them. Likely, the typical one of them (standing, no doubt, for hundreds, thousands) crawls aside to some bush-clump or ferny tuft on receiving his death-shot; there, sheltering a little while, soaking roots, grass, and soil with red blood; the battle advances, retreats, flits from the scene, sweeps by; and there, haply with pain and suffering…the last lethargy winds like a serpent round him; the eyes glaze in death;…and there, at last the Bravest Soldier, crumbles in Mother Earth, unburied and unknown."  --  Walt Whitman, Drum Taps 1865

Confederate Cemetery at New Hope Community.

 There’s a cemetery within the cemetery at New Hope Community just outside of Dallas, GA.  It’s a tiny plot with just 13 slightly unkempt graves under a worn Confederate flag.  All but 1 mark the final resting spot of some unknown soldier who paid the ultimate price defending the only life he knew.  History, especially when it involves a conflict, is told (and accepted as true and complete) from the perspective of the winner and these soldiers were on the losing side.  It's easy to overlook them and forget that each was someone’s son… perhaps a brother, husband, father, friend.  Their names and stories are unknown but I'm sure someone's heart hurt when their loved one didn't come home after the war.  And the tragedy of that makes my heart hurt still today.

Another part of the site that I found particularly haunting is the battle trenches just east of the church building.

Confederate dug battle trenches.

A friend with some military history knowledge explained the battle tactics of the time this way.  Because the guns used were neither uniform nor accurate, the soldiers would take aim in groups of 3.  The man in front would lie on his belly, the second man was down on one knee behind him and the third, standing at the back.  All would fire at the same time and then fall to the back of the line to reload.  Picture in your mind's eye that scene happening in a shallow trench like this one!  Fighting in this way increased the odds that one of their combatants would be struck down greatly over having every soldier in one long line.  It's so hard to imagine the brutal conditions of this kind of hand to hand combat.  And it was literally hand to hand...

Front of Sesquicentennial marker.

May of 2014 marked the Sesquicentennial of the Battle of New Hope Church and one of the town’s civic clubs erected a marker honoring the soldiers of the Army of Tennessee, led (I think) by General Hardee. They were the primary Confederate forces trying to block Sherman’s march on Atlanta.  And even though this is counted as Confederate victory, they were outflanked and Union forces advanced on to Kennesaw Mountain (I'll document a visit in another post - it is a better known site maintained by the National Park Service and host to many re-enactments and events).

There are a number of historic markers at this site describing with both text and picture how the troops moved parallel to one another.  You can also get a glimpse of today’s landscape in these pictures and imagine how difficult the journey must have been 150 years ago in dense woods, heat, and humidity.

Markers in the park at the battle site explaining the
logistics and tactics used by the soldiers fighting here.

Visiting these sites that previously were only brief descriptions in a text book sure brings history alive to me in a whole new way.  Those who fought on both sides have my utmost respect!

Orange Syrup

I really dislike the fake maple taste of Mrs. Butterworth's syrup.  It's the only thing Derek will eat on pancakes and waffles.  So... I was the one to compromise and that trash is the only syrup that's been in the house for the past 2 years or so.

Until today!

Now I care less and less every day what he wants and do the things that make me happy and feed my spirit.  Today it was Orange Syrup that put a smile on my face.

Oh boy is this stuff YUMMY!!

My inspiration came from 3 things.  First, the bag of oranges in my fridge that needed to be used.   It's true:  necessity is the mother of invention! Second, the blueberry sauce I made recently to accompany a baked french toast dish for a Church potluck Christmas breakfast was my how-to basis.  But really I was thinking about the pancakes and syrup I had for breakfast on a trip to Boise when I was barely out of high school in the mid-1980's.  That was the only time I got to know my cousin, Dale Clarke, and his sweet wife, Cindy at all.  I remember that she was expecting their first baby, Stephanie.  I don't think they knew she was a girl yet...  And I remember their dogs.  They had two Pit Bulls who were the most gentle playful dogs.  I always wanted to go back and spend more time in Boise and get to know these cousins but, like many things, life happened and I didn't get back until many many years later on short business trips.  Dale and Cindy had divorced and he didn't live there any longer and I didn't know how to get ahold of her or if she would even be willing to see me.  Just a few weeks ago, though, Stephanie and I made a connection via the magic of Facebook.  It's going to be fun getting to know her a bit and sharing memories and old family pictures that were taken or collected by my Mother.

I can't remember the name of the restaurant we ate at to even search and see, if by some miracle, it's still there or not but the image I have in my mind is that it was across a very busy multi-lane street from Boise State University.  It was in the parking lot of a hotel.  And late one afternoon there was a storm rolled in and according to the marquis at BSU the temperature dropped nearly 20 degrees in 5 minutes time. Aren't the goofy details that stick with you funny?  That's about all I remember about the place. That and the house-specialty syrup.  It was a pineapple coconut concoction that just blew my young mind.  And now that I've got the how-to part figured out with the blueberries and the oranges, one of these days I'm going to make some of that and call it Pina Colada Syrup.  Pineapple, coconut milk, a hint of lime and just a touch of rum flavoring... and serve it over pecan encrusted french toast.

Ok, so that's my backstory.  And I know you're here for the recipe, so without further digression...

Orange Syrup

Grate the rind (just the orange part, not the bitter white pith) from 4 oranges into a saute pan.  Add the juice of all four oranges and sugar to taste.  I think I used about 1 1/4 cups but that could vary slightly depending on the sweetness of the oranges.  Add 2/3 cup water, a pinch of salt and 3 tsp of cornstarch and bring to a boil.  Whisk constantly until it thickens then remove from heat and stir in 3 Tbl butter.  Let cool.  You can use immediately but it's best to let it sit in the fridge for 48 hours to get all the orangey goodness incorporated well in the syrup and then warm slightly before serving over pancakes, waffles or french toast.  Garnish with a dollop of whipped cream.  Or just drizzle the syrup over ice cream...  This recipe filled a pint canning jar about 2/3 of the way.

Yum!!

Whispering Giants

Peter Wolf Toth Indian Sculpture in Idaho Falls, ID

This photo came up in my Facebook feed a couple of days ago.  It made me remember going to watch the artist, who traveled all over the country creating similar statues in tribute to Native Americans, carve it.  Most, if not all, of the carving was done with a chainsaw.  And I remember the impression the raw power of the blade cutting through wood to uncover what Peter Wolf Toth could see in the log that I couldn't made on me.  This was the first time I'd seen a 'real' artist at work and the process was fascinating!

At one point someone asked him what he was doing and his profound answer that he was just "taking away anything that doesn't look like an Indian" gives some insight into artistic vision.  It seems like much the same process, and answer, Michelangelo gave about freeing David from the block of marble.

Mr. Toth created a series of these sculptures all over the United States, and Canada, honoring the original peoples of the continent.  Some of them are modeled after a specific person and some are more generic to honor the legacy of a tribe and provide all of us with a visual way to remember them, their plight and their humanity .  He called these sculptures the Trail of Whispering Giants.

I believe each is carved from a single log and the heights range from under 10 feet to near 40.  They truly are giants!  Mr. Toth began carving these massive tributes in 1972 continuing through 1988 though I do see a few later dates listed including new additions in 2008 (King Stephen I of Hungary in Délegyháza - the only one located outside of North America) and 2009 (Tecumseh in Vincennes, Indiana).  Of the 60 or so I can count still in existence  I've had the opportunity to see 3 of them.  But I'm hopeful of finding a way to see more as I study where they are located in respect to where I live now!  The link above will take you to a full listing of statue locations and this one has pictures of several of them.

The Idaho Falls Indian
This 27-foot tall statue was carved on-site in 1980 from a Douglas Fir and receives a coat of paint each year to preserve it.  It's located in the North Tourist Park which is (or at least was back then) adjacent to the Pinecrest Municipal Golf Course.

The Murray Indian

Photo credit: http://www.examiner.com/article/
chief-wasatch-murray-park

Carved in 1985 in the Murray City Park in Murray Utah, this statue of Chief Wasatch is 23 feet tall and, according to the statistics gathered by the Ogden Standard Examiner, weights 35,000 pounds.  The wood came from a massive Cottonwood Tree which is a messy tree, spewing a thick layer of 'cotton' as it buds each spring, native to the Salt Lake valley  Chief Wasatch lends his name to the beautiful mountains (not visible in these photos) behind the statue on the valley's east side.

The Springfield Indian

Photo credit:  http://www.waymarking.com/
waymarks/WM4QQP_Omiskanoagwiak_
Springfield_MA

Commemorating Omiskanoagwiak, Medicine Man of the Wolf-People who are/were native to Massachusetts' Pioneer Valley, this 15-foot tall statue was completed and dedicated in 1984.  In the early 1990s I worked for a company headquartered in Springfield and traveled there twice.  Forest Park, where the statue is located, was within walking distance of my hotel and it caught me with delighted surprise to see another of these magnificent creations that weekend I was feeling a little lonely and homesick!

About Peter Wolf Toth
Born in December 1947, he is a Hungarian-born sculptor living in Akron, OH.

The Lilacs Are In Bloom!

I love lilacs!  Especially these big, substantial looking, darker purple ones.   Wish I could capture their intoxicating fragrance for a wonderful potpourri.

My childhood home in Shelley had 2 very old 'lilac trees' or bushes that had been pruned over many decades so that there were huge twisted trunks with peeling bark.  Many dolly tea parties were held in the shade below...  I love that my home in Salt Lake has the same sort of lilac tree, though not nearly as big and old and gnarled, over the back of the garage with a juniper towering above and purple grapes on the fence below

With storms moving in for tonight and tomorrow they'll probably be thrashed so I took this opportunity to capture a few photos.

Can't you almost imagine the luscious heady scent wafting through the air from these beautiful blooms?

Lilacs are one of the flowers that remind me of happy childhood memories and the start of a carefree summer.  In Idaho, where the season is a bit later, lilacs were among the flowers we picked fresh in the yard to decorate family graves for Memorial Day. After a visit to the cemetery we often had a picnic and, if we were really lucky, a swim in the warm mineral pools at Heise Hot Springs.

I truly love the lilac time of year!!