You'll Be Exposed to Culture Even if I Have to Shove it Down Your Throat
Is it already almost Wednesday?
This week has totally flown by me so far.
Sunday, we went to the La Brea Tar Pits, and for those of you not from this area, it is the premier fossil site in the United States, at least for animals from a certain period, most likely ending with -cene. As is Pleistocene or whatever. I was watching the little movie, but for some reason wasn't paying whole lot of attention.
They really do have a tar pit there, and it is pretty cool too see it bubbling up with methane every few seconds. Mr. P was utterly fascinated, and even more so when we found eruptions of tar on the ground. He was able to poke sticks in it and other various plant materials, which trumped the entire museum. We should have just saved the seven bucks a pop and let him play with the dang tar.
But this is what I have been waiting for, the day when we can take him to a museum and he can truly process all the information. He's been to museums, but mostly of the child-centered kind. This was his first grown-up museum, and I was feeling that this was some sort of milestone.
I love museums, always have. Ok, well maybe not always. I remember my mother dragging us to museums when we went to Hawaii when I was about 11. But hey, we were in freaking Hawaii, I wanted to go to the beach, not hear about some king with fifty vowels in his name. I mean, I would now, but then, not so much.
I credit my mom for the exposure though, and now have a thorough appreciation for museums of all kinds.
I only hope that I can pass it on.
New post over there. You've seen the picture (because how could I resist not putting that up again) but the words are brand new.
This week has totally flown by me so far.
Sunday, we went to the La Brea Tar Pits, and for those of you not from this area, it is the premier fossil site in the United States, at least for animals from a certain period, most likely ending with -cene. As is Pleistocene or whatever. I was watching the little movie, but for some reason wasn't paying whole lot of attention.
They really do have a tar pit there, and it is pretty cool too see it bubbling up with methane every few seconds. Mr. P was utterly fascinated, and even more so when we found eruptions of tar on the ground. He was able to poke sticks in it and other various plant materials, which trumped the entire museum. We should have just saved the seven bucks a pop and let him play with the dang tar.
But this is what I have been waiting for, the day when we can take him to a museum and he can truly process all the information. He's been to museums, but mostly of the child-centered kind. This was his first grown-up museum, and I was feeling that this was some sort of milestone.
I love museums, always have. Ok, well maybe not always. I remember my mother dragging us to museums when we went to Hawaii when I was about 11. But hey, we were in freaking Hawaii, I wanted to go to the beach, not hear about some king with fifty vowels in his name. I mean, I would now, but then, not so much.
I credit my mom for the exposure though, and now have a thorough appreciation for museums of all kinds.
I only hope that I can pass it on.
New post over there. You've seen the picture (because how could I resist not putting that up again) but the words are brand new.
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