day nineteen.

Day One in the torture chamber. It’s actually not as bad as it sounds, I just like being melodramatic. We started off the day late, not eating breakfast until 10:30 or so. I myself woke up at 10, so we were just taking things a bit slower than necessary. After stuffing ourselves with eggy bread (some call it French toast), we all sat around and wondered what the day held in store for us. Finally some brave man made the decision to listen to my advice and we all got in the van. CMOG was where we spent our day. For those not familiar with the Mansfield area and its surrounding attractions, that stands for Corning Museum of Glass. It sounds hideously boring, I know, but shockingly, we went per my request. Philip was less than enthused, but everyone else hid their boredom for my own sake. I forced them to sit through 4 live glass shows, in which we watched several groups of people create their own glass items. Things included: dinosaur figurine based off of an 8-year-old’s drawing, large bowl which was then cracked and recycled and a dragon goblet which retails for approximately $400. All of the above were made in less than 30 minutes, yet sold like they were the last White Rhino on earth. After boring them all to a comatose state, we ventured into the CMOG Café where we munched on room temperature pizza, a loaded baked potato with cold broccoli and unmelted cheese, and surprisingly delicious chicken fingers and fries (Insert snarky comment on Americans and fried food here). We scavenged the souvenir shop for a cool t-shirt, found nothing, and went back to the car to leave. We drove to Wal-Mart. We walked into Wal-Mart. We shopped at Wal-Mart. We checked out at Wal-Mart. We got in the car and left Wal-Mart. We arrived home. I’m now sitting in the cabin, with no internet, disillusioning myself into believing I have some sort of wifi connection by using a computer. Alas, there’s nothing, and I’m writing to who some would call NO ONE. Thanks for reading, Mom.

SIDE NOTE: Direct quote from Martha, “I’ve got lots to do here! I’ve got coupons to cut…” Only in the mountains would cutting coupons create some strange form of stress.