Now that the kiddos are getting a bit bigger – or maybe we’re just getting more of a handle on this parenting thing – we’ve been having a blast seeking out some of the more special events and opportunities in our area. Living in D.C., there’s always another event or exhibit right around the corner, and there’s no way we can get to them all. But we do try to make it to the coolest, most unique things – like “Apollo on the Move,” a one-day event at the Udvar-Hazy Center (part of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum) out near Dulles International Airport.
The “Apollo on the Move” event was a really unique opportunity to see the restoration hangar at Udvar-Hazy. The restoration hangar is usually closed to the public, but on Saturday the doors were flung open to anyone who wanted to file through and see all of the restoration projects in progress – including the command module from Apollo 11! Steve and I are both fascinated by the Apollo program, so we obviously couldn’t miss a chance to see the command module up close, having a little work done.
Some shorter people were less enthused, but they’ll grow to appreciate it in time. We didn’t get to spend too much time gawking at the command module, because there were many other people pressing up to see it as well. We were glad that we got to the museum early – when we arrived at the restoration hangar, there were only about twenty people ahead of us in line waiting to go in (others were already inside) but by the time we got out, the line numbers had multiplied many times over.
After checking out the Apollo project, we spent a few minutes looking at the other projects on the restoration floor. I can’t wait to see this plane when it’s all fixed up!
Then we left the restoration hangar and spent a bit of time visiting our other favorites. First stop – the space shuttle Discovery! No matter how many times we visit, it never gets old.
It’s always so awe-inspiring – a true testament to human ingenuity. Even the little miss was mildly impressed, which is really saying something.
The little dude was more impressed than his sister. He’s been here before, but the last time we visited, he was much smaller – about sixteen months old, as opposed to almost two (old man!) – and he was definitely much more engaged with the space this time. He practically jumped out of the backpack when he saw the aircraft as we walked into the main museum, and he was looking around, eyes popping out, chattering the entire time. Maybe he’s a future engineer?
After a good long visit with Discovery, we meandered out into the main part of the hangar and checked out the Concorde and some of the other particularly cool exhibits. I was especially interested in the WWII-era fighter planes, having just finished Code Talker, a memoir of one of the Navajo code talkers who were so instrumental in winning the Pacific War. The Smithsonian had a section of Japanese fighter planes from WWII, and I wondered if any of them were the same models that Chester Nez wrote about fearing so intensely during the battle of Guadalcanal.
We walked all the way to the back corner of the hangar, which we don’t usually do, and saw this little beauty. Based on the livery – reading “Byrd Antarctic Expedition” – I’m guessing (couldn’t find the explanatory placard) that this plane may have taken part in Operation Highjump in 1946-47. So cool! I was intrigued – I’ve been particularly interested in Antarctica lately. It’s certainly not in the cards for the near future, but I’d love to visit someday.
The landing gear appeared to be sleds. For landing on ice?!
There was another cool restoration project going on right on the floor of the public hangar – the control car for the Goodyear blimp. That was fun to see, as well.
Such a fun morning outing! Udvar-Hazy is always a blast – we love bringing visitors out there – but it was so special to see the restoration hangar and to get a close look at Apollo 11.
Have you ever gotten onto the restoration floor at a favorite museum?
Pomfret Towers (Barsetshire #6), by Angela Thirkell – Continuing with my recent binge on 
Mom & Me & Mom, by Maya Angelou – Having read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings in high school, I somehow only recently discovered that Maya Angelou wrote a stack of other memoirs. Mom & Me & Mom was one, and it was powerful and joyful. Opening in Angelou’s early childhood, during which she was raised by her grandmother, Angelou discusses returning to her mother’s side at age 13 and spending her adolescence in San Francisco, living with a mother she barely knew. Angelou’s relationship with her mother, whom she calls “Lady,” is – of course – the focal point of the book, and it’s beautiful to watch her love for, and trust in, Lady blossom and grow over time. Lady, for her part, explains that she is a terrible mother to young children but a great one to young (and not-so-young) adults, and that does seem to be the case. From a foundation of mistrust and resentment, a beautiful mother-daughter relationship blooms.
We Love You, Charlie Freeman, by Kaitlyn Greenidge – The Freeman family is proud and honored to have been selected as part of an experiment at the Toneybee Institute, a scientific foundation studying the communication of apes and other primates. The Freemans will leave their home, move into the institute, and live in an apartment there with Charlie, a young chimp who was abandoned by his mother. The purpose of the experiment is for the Freemans – who all speak sign language – to teach Charlie to sign, and to fold him into their family and overcome his feelings of abandonment, first by his mother and then by various institute staff as they turn over in the normal course of business. Soon the stress of the experiment begins to overwhelm the family, who all deal with their emotions in various – mostly unhealthy – ways, and what was a close family starts to unravel. Against this backdrop, teenaged daughter Charlotte – the main protagonist – discovers some unsettling facts about the early history of the Toneybee and its racist beginnings. The novel, on the surface about the undoing of a family, is an interesting allegory about – as the jacket copy describes it – America’s failure to find a language in which to talk about race. So, I liked this. It was well-written and thoughtful. I found it hard to connect to the plot, though, and couldn’t love it – that’s probably my own thing, since this book is getting raves from everyone else. “Undoing of a family” stories aren’t really my jam, and that ultimately couldn’t overcome my interest in reading a story about the language of conversations about race – but it’s a book very worth reading, and I do recommend it.
You Can’t Touch My Hair: And Other Things I Still Have to Explain, by Phoebe Robinson – Robinson is a stand-up comedienne, a podcast maven, an all-around hilarious lady, and a black woman. In this memoir, she describes her experiences and encounters with race during her childhood and young adulthood – and she folds quite a lot of thought-provoking introspection and wisdom in with some truly hilarious material. Whether describing the hours she spent sitting on the kitchen chair while her mother took pains over her with a hot comb so Robinson wouldn’t “go to school looking like Frederick Douglass,” or recounting awkward encounters with tone-deaf white people’s unconscious racism, Robinson is real, and thoughtful, and smart – as well as funny. I’ve long been a fan of stand-up as a way to tell truths about our current society, where we need to go and how we need to get there – in a light-hearted but intelligent way, and Robinson seems like a comic that I’d really love. You Can’t Touch My Hair was an uncomfortable read at times, but should be required reading as it takes on big issues and pulls no punches while doing so.
Emily of New Moon (Emily #1), by Lucy Maud Montgomery – I won’t get too into detail here, as you’ve already read my thoughts about re-reading my childhood favorite book 
Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave, by Frederick Douglass – I’d been meaning to read this classic for awhile, and had been eyeing it as a perfect pick for Black History Month, when a certain tone-deaf and evidently uneducated world leader (#notmypresident) referenced Douglass in a manner that suggested he had no idea who Douglass actually was. (Has been doing a very good job? Getting recognized more and more? Are you KIDDING ME?) Since reading is apparently how I #resist, my first stop on the internet, after reading that embarrassment, was my library website to put Douglass’s memoir on hold. It came in shortly thereafter, and I blazed through the slim but incredibly powerful volume. As expected, it’s far from an easy read – the events it recounts are nothing short of horrifying. Douglass’s powerful voice comes across in a ringing attack on the very system of slavery – I can only imagine how astonishing he must have been as a speaker. If I was to create a list of books that I think should be required reading for all Americans, this would have to be on it.
1984, by George Orwell – Another one I added to my library holds after seeing it in the news, dystopian novel 1984 started trending – actually selling out on Amazon – thanks to Kellyanne Conway and Sean Spicer and their “alternative facts,” which seemed right out of the regime of Big Brother. Orwell’s classic focuses on Winston Smith, a 39-year-old bureaucrat in the superstate of Oceana. Winston works at the Ministry of Truth, which is concerned with “rectifying” publications so that they reflect the desired standpoints of the ruling elite – whatever those happen to be at the moment – and in the process, obliterating history and memory. Big Brother, the unseen leader of the regime, is always watching through mandatory “telescreens,” which are everywhere. Love, sensuality, memory, and any questioning of authority are prohibited acts of “thoughtcrime.” I read Orwell’s other well-known dystopia, Animal Farm, in high school, but had never made it to 1984, so I jumped on the bandwagon with everyone else and read it this month. It was distressing, upsetting, engaging and frighteningly relevant to today’s political climate.
covered in flour 