Buggy Ride, Fried Dough, and Cotton Candy on Lake #3

We're on our vacation at Keuka Lake in Central New York. Elliot and Astrid are having a fabulous time with their grandma and three of their four uncles. Our house is great--which is a huge relief, as we learned 24 hours before flying to Buffalo that the house our family had rented on Lake Honeoye had sustained water damage (from a leaky pipe or a giant storm, we don't know). The rental company put us into another house, this one on Seneca Lake, and then a few hours later, we heard that the new reservation had also been changed. The third house wasn't all that pretty to look at, at least on the website. But it's great, with lots of room, and an absolutely beautiful view of Lake #3.

This is all very good, as Terry and I are relative newcomers to the world of vacationing. Our families took vacations when we were kids, but in our 12 years of marriage, this is our third time planning and carrying out a trip that is mostly about fun and being with family. I've often wondered why it's so hard for some people to take vacations, and so easy for others. (For the record, I've always wanted to be the second kind of person, if not for myself, then for our kids.)

This morning my brother-in-law and I took E and A to a produce and crafts market near the town of Penn Yan. There are lots of Amish people in the area, which wasn't especially meaningful to either kid (kind of surprising when it comes to Elliot--he's usually really interested in learning about different cultures living together in a common community). It's possible that the promise of fried dough loomed larger in his mind than the arcanities ofAmerican Anabaptism did....guess I can't blame him....

Since she turned five, Astrid has been insinuating that Terry and I plot to keep her away from horses---an odd accusation, given that we live in a big city and do not run with a crowd of wealthy horseriding folks. So when we got to the Amish market and saw that pony rides were available for a mere $5 per child, I felt confident that Terry would support my strong desire to prove our good faith as parents. The buggy ride lasted about five minutes, and, by all accounts, was quite satisfying, as it included the strong smell of horses ("whoo, that's stinky!), the "clicking" of the horses' hooves, and a bouncy feeling "just like a roller coaster." Elliot seemed to have a good time, too.

The cotton candy and fried dough, though, were by far the best part of the deal, as you can see.