Dr. Tongue’s 3-D House Of Beef And Reptile Museum

So what happens when you get a state and a half away before you remember that you forgot to pack the camera?  You tell yourself that you’ll borrow your Mother In Law’s camera and email pictures back to yourself.  What do you do when you can’t even remember to do that?  You post with borrowed pictures of other peoples’ turkey’s and good times.  Kind of like buying a multi-photo frame at Wal-Mart and then telling everyone that the filler photos are actual pictures of your family.  “Here’s Aunt Edna at the Acropolis, cousin Janie on a carousel and Grampa Ed scuba diving off of the Great Barrier Reef.  I know, I know-quite the active family I’ve got, huh?”  I’ll do my best to give you visual impressions of our trip.

We left last Saturday and came back on Thanksgiving Day.  NukeMom wanted to be back early enough to hit the sales this morning.  I wasn’t crazy about the idea when she proposed it last month, but after seeing the haul that she brought in this morning, I’ve changed my mind.  I’d go into detail, but prying little eyes may read this.  One set in particular.  They are about 11 years old and trying to keep them from snooping is like trying to baptize a cat.  I’m getting crafty, though.  The more he snoops, the more surprised he’ll be on a certain day in late December.  Either that, or he’ll think he really is getting sticks and coal from Santa.  Details to follow, now; back to the trip.   

It’s about a 10 hour drive from our neck of North Carolina to the In Law’s place, which is about an hour north of Tampa; up near Crystal River.  If we come in at night we just look for the glow of the Nuclear Power plant and know that we are getting close.  Grandma and Grandpa left the pool heater on so the NukeKids could enjoy some late November swimming.  It was teeth-chattering-tastic!  As long as they stayed in they didn’t have any problems, it was that whole getting out thing that they didn’t like.  I got to read the new Stephen King book of short stories; Just After Sunset in just under 4 days.  That man is one sick puppy.  And I love him for it.  The last story is….well, you’d just have to read it.  It’s about a person stuck in a San-O-Can that has fallen over on it’s door.  The sides are covered in sheet metal, but the bottom isn’t.  Guess how he has to get out?  Yeah, like I said, one sick puppy.  I played 2 rounds of horrible golf, but I have a bum knee to blame it on.  I also got enough strokes to help win some money in my FIL’s Sunday group round.  I birdied a par 5 and got 2 strokes on the hole for a net 2.  Not bad. 

One of our outings was to the Homosassa Springs Wildlife Park.  The kids have been here several times, but this was only my second visit.  The springs come from an underground river and keep the water at a constant 72 degrees; nirvana for the 6 manatees that call it home.  There is an underwater observatory built (and floating) right over the fissure where the water comes out of the ground.  You can go in there when they feed the manatees and watch them swim within a foot of you.  They move very, very slow; not unlike Congress. 

The star of the visit, though, had to be Lou, the Hippo.  Lou is a flatulent mammal that takes great pleasure is backing up to walls, swirling his tail and ears and projectile pooping.  In the water, out of the water; doesn’t matter ‘cuz it’s all water anyway.  I think the last solid thing Lou passed was an errant pebble in one of his cabbages.  Lou is very vocal, also.  He lets out a belly laugh when he’s “dropping the kids off at the pool”.  If you see the ears and tail start to go and he happens to be facing away from you, you’d better move.  And in a hurry.  We passed him twice while we walked around the park and both times he put on one of his fecal symphonies.  You could set your watch by him.  I heard a park ranger tell one of his volunteers that Lou’s next feeding would be at “crap thirty”.  Between Stephen King’s book and Lou the Hippo, this is turning out to be a pretty crappy post. 

Having Thanksgiving Dinner on Wednesday isn’t so bad if you can get your brain wrapped around the idea that when you look at the TV you WILL NOT see any football.  We watched James Bond instead.  Casino Royale was on, and if I’d know about the torture scene ahead of time I would have worn my cup.  Ouch.  If you don’t know what I’m talking about, rent it.  Girls, be prepared to grimace; guys, wear a cup.  Least favorite Sound of Thanksgiving?  Hearing canned cranberries exiting the can.  Ugh.  The dinner was great and Grandma put out a fabulous feast.  Nukeboy 2 even went back for 3rd’s on mashed potatoes.  I had seconds on potatoes, biscuits and turkey, but shied away from the cranberry jello.  NukeGirl has almost mastered the art of the mashed potato volcano with butter filled vent.  I’ve taught her well.

The drive home was interesting, to say the least.  I didn’t figure we’d have too hard of a time finding restaurants open near I-95, but I will be prepared for next time and know the difference between knowledge and wisdom.  Knowledge is knowing it is a one-way street; Wisdom is looking both directions anyway.  We’ll look both directions if we travel on Thanksgiving again.  We pulled into a McDonalds for breakfast with what seemed to be 200 of our closest friends.  We didn’t put 2 and 2 together when we saw 2 people peek in the door and then walk away.  We were about to get the kids out of the car when we saw a second group walk up and actually pull on the door.  It was locked.  No problem, we thought, the lobby isn’t open yet (it was 8:04am), so we’ll just go through the drive in.  No dice.  Closed up tighter than a camel’s butt in a sandstorm.  We raced up the interstate to the next Mickey D’s opportunity and found it closed as well.  We threw some peanut butter crackers in the back seat and set our sights on lunch.  After passing such culinary delights such as Harry’s House of Hunan, Melba’s (bet they only serve toast) and Big Moe’s Meat Shack; we finally saw a Shoney’s.  My friend Paul used to always say that he wanted to open a restaurant one day called; Dr. Tongue’s 3-D House of Beef and Reptile Museum.  Passing Big Moe’s made me think of that, which is why I chose it for the title; but being a cautious man, I swore to myself that I would never eat in a restaurant who’s name could be confused with a Wes Craven movie.  So Shoney’s it was.  Can’t remember exactly where we were, but I do know that it was South Carolina.  Meridianville, or Meridianburg, or something.  We filled our gullet’s and got back on the road.  We only had to ride through 2 more showings of Shrek and we were home.  Boy, is my butt tired.  Probably not as tired as Lou the Hippos, though.