Pandemic Panic

I don't feel like I've been super nervous about getting COVID-19 since maybe those first few weeks of the shutdown when we didn't know much about how it spread or how many people might be infected since testing was rare.  But since we started focusing on masking and trying hard to limit our outside contact, it has been less of a concern.  For example, I'm not really concerned about picking it up at Wegmans or Walmart, though I am still trying to minimize how often we do things like that.  I think that's the difference between living in fear and being careful--we should do all we can to minimize our chances for infection without making our lives needlessly hard or frustrating.  Run the errands as needed to keep an already challenging existence bearable, but take precautions and don't create extra reasons to be out and about. 

I do currently get a little more nervous that we'll be the victims of bad luck on the rare occasions we do let our guard down, like when we saw Craig's parents on Father's Day, my parents last Friday, or let the plumbers in our house last week.  We could have masked (or asked others to mask) but I think for the most part we're trusting that we're all being smart and safe and keeping our overall risk low.  I had a baby shower this weekend, and while I had my mask with me, I never felt compelled to wear it.  Could I have?  Maybe, since I did go in the house a couple times for drinks, but nothing felt uncomfortable.  However, there are times where I've felt like I should mask but it felt awkward and borderline rude, and usually I cave and skip it.  At times like that, I just have to keep reminding myself news reports of parties that have high transmission rates (like a 4th of July party downstate where a third of guests got infected, or a birthday party weeks ago where 30 infections resulted). 

The issue is that now we're moving closer to a couple higher-risk scenarios, and I'm just not sure what to do about it.  The good news is that our current rates here are low.  Less than 2% of tests are coming back positive in our area, and cases have only been a 2-3 dozen or so most days in our entire county.  So that means that the odds of coming across a positive person are not high, but it's definitely still out there and we should take as many precautions as we can. 

Jacob was supposed to start basketball this coming week, but this past week it got moved again to early August.  It's just a local league, but since he's been practicing (sort of) masked, it's really going to be his first major opportunity for exposure.  And same for us, I guess, since it'll be our first extended indoor setting.  We're going to switch off, though, so for each of us it's only once a week.  It definitely makes me nervous, but considering it's just a couple days a week for an hour or so, it's probably a calculated risk we're willing to take to offset at least some of the negative mental health impact this has likely had on Jacob.  He just wants to play some basketball (and we're pretty much over all of the on-court scenarios he constantly ruminates on), so we sort of just want to get on with it and see how it goes.  But it's still scary.

The bigger issue right now that has me as close to panic-stricken as I've been so far is school.  I understand that with our current low numbers we're in a much better state to start school than much of the country.  Yet despite rampant spread recently, Florida is still targeting an in-school start, which seems extremely risky at best and downright reckless at worst.  This will probably sound stupid reading this back 20 years from now (ha, as if) but this whole thing has turned extremely political.  Not just schools, but masking and the general handling of the pandemic, as well.  You wouldn't think a public health emergency would do that, but I guess these days anything is fair game.  The left is encouraging lots of masking and very careful (read: often restrictive) reopenings.  The right thinks masks are an affront to liberty and American freedom, and tend to have more concern about the impact from the economy from not reopening quickly enough.  They also want schools open, with a certain faction going farther to insist kids shouldn't have any restrictions on their in-school existence, such as masks or social distancing, which seem to be the only documented ways to keep things under control.  I understand that there are definitely groups of kids that are more at-risk from being out of school for an extended period of time.  I feel so badly for special needs kids and parents who can't get much needed teaching and therapies because telehealth isn't always awesome.  Our family knows that full well from our barely-functional family therapy video calls every two weeks.  There are also kids with limited internet access and subpar parental involvement, often due to being essential workers outside the home.  That was clear from some iffy participation in some of Carter's video calls and the general sense from his teacher that despite our struggles, he was still far above and beyond what some other kids were doing.  Some kids are English learners and their parents simply can't speak well enough to help them.  And I know that there are kids whose only safe place is at school--the only time they're safe from abuse, fear, or hunger.  It all breaks my heart so much.

But I also know that those kids' lives will not get any better if they or their family members come down with the virus.  They're already more likely to be in schools with fewer resources to keep things safe and to have less adequate medical care at home, and many probably have different child care situations involving older generations who are more susceptible--either grandparents living in the house or watching them while their parents work.  It's a complete lose-lose situation for those kids, infinitely far beyond the still very real concerns I have for my own kids.  The virus will get into schools, just like it's made its way into camps and daycares this summer, so we need to plan for that to happen--but I'm not convinced some people are taking that thought seriously.  Or at the very least, they're so hell-bent on in-school that they'll once again end up behind the 8-ball, unprepared, when the virus hits and things have to close.

The more I read from teachers, the more it becomes clear that any in-school experience will be a shell of its former self.  Kid interactions will be limited due to partitions in classrooms, distanced seating, and changes to lunch and P.E.  They'll be staring at masked faces all day, and probably be preoccupied trying to keep theirs on.  Teachers will likely be keeping their distance more than before, as well.  It simply won't be the social experience it once was, which pretty much negates the argument that kids need school for socialization purposes.  And believe me, I get it--after four months of this, Carter is pretty much always wanting to be with a screen and it's difficult to get him to go outside, even to play with the neighbors, which he once loved.  I know he needs interaction.  But if it's going to feel more like a prison than school?  I don't know.  Kids are more adaptable than we are, so I think over time they'll adjust to a lot, but it's still not going to be what they remember and that could impact their learning more than we realize.

And that's not even getting into the health risks.  Kids are messy, they are absent-minded, they are fidgety, and they are germ magnets on a good day.  Schools generally don't have the resources to do all of the CDC recommendations, so we can assume germs will still run amok like they do when strep or stomach bugs run through classrooms.  And with something that transmits through air, particularly in indoor settings, it seems rather difficult to keep it under wraps for long.  It just takes one kid, teacher, or worker to spread it around.  And once that happens, what then?  Do entire classes quarantine?  Does the whole school close?  Or do we lower expectations for these groups and minimize quarantines just so kids can stay in school?  It gets more complicated in older grades with changing classes, since any given person could interact with dozens of different students and a half dozen teachers each day, and that group in turn interacts with dozens more.  It's endless.  If teachers need to stay home, does that cut into their sick time?  Or can they use workers' compensation?  Or do they just keep teaching from home if they're healthy enough?  Inevitably these infections will cause exponential spread beyond schools and into communities if we're not careful, and that's not good for anyone.  Many areas are seeing business closures again, and while I fully understand that it's bad for the economy and could contribute to countless permanent closures, I'm just not sure what other options there are to prevent further spread.

I understand one side of this argument thinks that the whole thing is overblown.  I'm just going to ignore that there are some people who think this is a big hoax created by the Democrats to mess with Trump's election chances in the fall.  That is absurd because the entire world has suffered through this, and what's more, Trump's lack of acknowledgement and action (aside from shutting off travel from China) has been part of the reason it has become such a problem here.  Instead of setting forth a decisive course of action that set the example for all governors to follow, he downplayed it, refused to wear a mask, held rallies, and criticized Democratic governors for trying to shut down the economy.  Just last week he said that Democrats were the ones wanting to keep the schools closed, also to mess with his chances of re-election.  What's more, he suggested cutting off funding to schools that don't open in-person, which is not only insane on many levels but also not necessarily in his power, since that funding goes through Congress.  It's all getting absurd and even dangerous.  Even among the more logical folks, there are assertions that cases are being over-counted, death rates are low, and for most people it's just a minor illness.  But even if cases are over-counted, that doesn't account for why hospitals are overwhelmed.  This is not just the flu.  It is making people sick and killing a small but significant percentage of them.  What's more, we've found out more and more that the symptoms people are showing are sticking around for weeks or months, or even causing long-term damage.  There are heart issues, lung damage, blood clots causing strokes, nerve damage, and all sorts of concerning chronic issues that are impacting otherwise healthy people.  It's harder to get stats on how often that's occurring, but the randomness of how they strike concerns me and I can't say I want to expose my kids to that on a daily basis, or risk them passing it along to me, Craig, or our parents.  It may not kill us, sure, but if our quality of life is greatly reduced, was it worth it for some in-person instruction?

There just hasn't been any research I've seen that makes me feel comfortable that this can go off without a hitch.  I'm still not allowed to go into my office freely, even with hardly anyone else in the building.  Even if we do go back, which likely won't be for months, we're being told Zoom meetings will probably be the norm for a while.  So if they're telling me (and remember, I work for a place connected to a big-time research hospital) that I shouldn't sit in a conference room for any period of time, why should I feel comfortable having my kid sit in a classroom with crappy ventilation for six hours?  It just doesn't seem logical to me.  I don't want teachers putting themselves at risk, and I will always worry about my kids.  In arguing about this on Facebook with a couple people that don't have kids, I didn't want to pull the "mom card", and I didn't publicly, but I realized they probably can't understand how parents will instinctively do whatever it takes to protect their kids.  It's practically involuntary.  Realistically I know they will learn more in school and do better socially, but my gut tells me to keep them safe at home, just in case.  I can't actively stick my kids in a potentially unsafe situation without a compelling reason to do so, and right now the social and learning benefits just aren't compelling enough.  

That said, I don't blame parents of those previously mentioned groups of kids one bit for fighting for what their kids need.  Maybe the long-term risks of a subpar education outweigh the short-term health risks for them.  If that's the case, that's fine--but I don't necessarily feel that my kids need to be pulled into that risky situation as well.  It's essentially a science experiment, and I don't want my kids to be the guinea pigs.  I desperately want the kids that need and want services to get them, and if that means keeping my own kids home so those groups can have distanced learning, I'm cool with that.  We can do that and we'll survive.  But the thought of going back to distance learning with Carter makes me crazy and I'm definitely nervous about how both kids will come out of this socially.  As of now, the only thing we know is that Carter will probably be on a hybrid model because the district simply doesn't have enough space for proper distancing.  We're supposed to get more info in the coming weeks.  As for Jacob, we probably won't know their plans for at least another week, until their online town hall meeting.  The crazy thing is, depending on how things go for other districts that do open on schedule in August, all of it could possibly change if things definitively go badly.  It's completely exhausting to think about.

I'm just frustrated that there is no "good" solution right now.  All have risks.  I hate that this has been politicized, because decisions should only be made on science, not what we think will impact the polls.  This will probably be our reality until a vaccine is developed or there is a very clear, universal treatment that helps ill patients.  Neither is imminent and probably neither will be universally distributed immediately, so this is clearly going to be our life for a while.  It's depressing and I'm pretty happy I didn't know in March we'd still be slogging through this in July with no end in sight.  It is truly a one-day-at-a-time thing right now, and we just need to keep living with it.  And finding the good.  It's there, I promise.  I'll keep worrying, too, because this is a big deal, but I'm doing my darnedest to appreciate this time for what it is.  There are parts I'll miss when it's over.  I never thought I'd say that, but here we are.  What strange times we live in!

Forced Family Fun - Niagara Falls Edition

Last year I entitled the blog posts for our abbreviated family vacation "Forced Family Fun", because that's what it felt like.  The boys didn't want to do any of the touristy stuff we did while in the North Country, but we did it anyway because it's important to get out into the world, see new things, and learn some history.  And, if it's that bad, it's not a bad side effect to learn some patience and endurance in the process.  We have all had family vacations with boring or exhausting patches, and yet we survived and it probably made us more tolerant people in the long run.  I think specifically of my family's trip to Washington DC when I was nearly 10.  As a whole I liked the trip and definitely appreciate now all that we did.  But I recall a few moments where the drive lasted forever, it was hotter than heck, and certain historical things ended up a little more boring than I would have liked.  We crammed a ton into that trip, though, and I'm sure I had moments where I just wanted to be back at the amazing indoor-outdoor pool at our hotel.  I may have whined here and there, to no avail, but I appreciate my parents slogging us through so we had a chance to see so much--and now those memories have had to last me over 30 years since I've never been back.  But every time a Washington attraction pops up in news or culture, at least I've been able to say I was there.  

Pretty much the only family vacation that the kids might fully consent to under normal circumstances is a trip to Disney.  Obviously that's not happening right now for a ton of reasons, so if we want any sort of adventure this summer, it has to stay rather local.  I know it's not exciting, but I've pretty much hit my limit of everyone sitting around playing Fortnite, and even the pool only holds so much enjoyment right now.  So, with my last day of two straight weeks of furlough, we headed off to Niagara Falls.  I figured it might be a good spot since most tourists can't come visit right now, either due to the border being closed or travel bans and quarantines minimizing much travel into the state.  But I guess you never know, especially when locals are bored out of their minds and outdoor activities are preferred right now.  Of course, it ended up being a brutally hot day, well into the 90s, which was both good and bad--good for part of our day, and not so good for the rest.  Originally, my plan was to do an easy hike down to the whirlpool in the Niagara Gorge (which we've never done) and then go back to the main tourist area to walk across Goat Island to Terrapin Point, which overlooks the Canadian Falls from the American side.  I think Craig and I may have made it over there once many years ago, but it was the middle of winter and much of that area is blocked off due to ice from the Falls' mist.  The last time I was there in good weather may have been in college.  But with the weather looking like it was, I decided maybe we'd benefit most from doing the Maid of the Mist, the famous boat ride up to the Falls.  That I hadn't done since I was maybe Carter's age.  I did it once with my family and once with my friend's family, but never since.  I figured it would be a nice counter to the 90 degree temps, at the very least.  

In our usual fashion, we got a bit of a late start.  Craig had some work to do and Jacob took forever getting ready, so we didn't get on the road until well after 11am.  Then we had to stop at the mall (first day open!) to pick up water resistant footwear for all the males.  Jacob had outgrown his last pair of slides, Craig's flip flops broke a couple years back, and Carter didn't have any sandals either.  And no one really wanted wet feet from the boat ride.  So we stopped at Old Navy and got sandals for all three, then got gas, and finally got on the road.  We had to grab lunch on the way, and in the middle of that (three of us got Mighty Taco and Craig was picking up Tim Horton's while Carter made a potty stop), I realized that we just weren't going to have time (or the energy) to do the whirlpool hike.  Since we were planning on eating our food at the park, we then needed to find a place to eat our drive-thru food outside.  It was a little convoluted to change plans at that moment, but it worked out okay.  We just went back across the street to Mighty Taco, where there were outside tables.  

Our first stop was the Maid of the Mist.  We put on the new footwear and discovered pretty quickly that Carter could barely walk in flip flops.  Ugh.  But we somehow made it from the parking lot to the entry intact.  We had to wear masks for the entire experience, which definitely didn't feel great in 90+ degree weather.  However, we got in with no wait and took an elevator down to the docks.

When I did this as a kid, you had to wear heavy, smelly raincoats.  Nowadays they use disposable ponchos.  We opted to keep our ponchos off until we were on the boat, for obvious reasons.  Unfortunately, a boat pulled out just as we got down to the waiting area, which meant we had a full half hour wait in the hot sun.  It was definitely hot and sweaty, but at least there was plenty to see.  

One of my memories of riding the Maid of the Mist as a kid was that the ride down to the docks was my favorite part.  That's because on the Canadian side (which no longer has the Maid of the Mist but does have a different boat operator), they use an incline railway to take you down to the gorge.  I though that was super cool as a kid, and you could see it very well from our vantage point.

Here's a look at the elevator we had to take down on the U.S. side.  That tower used to look very different but was renovated a number of years ago.  It's an admission-only observation deck, as well.

Hard to tell here, but it's covered in green glass.

For reference, this is how it looked when I was in college.  

It's on the left, almost matched up with half the bridge.

We looked longingly at Canada, pointing out the hotel we stayed at a year and a half ago and the waterpark we visited while we were there.  I definitely miss Clifton Hill this time of year, since it was a family tradition to go over there on a hot afternoon once a summer when I was a kid.  I laughed later in the day when the kids were complaining about the heat and the walk, because my family would not just walk around Niagara Falls, but we'd walk to Canada and back!  We'd park on the U.S. side, walk over the Rainbow Bridge, go through customs, and then do a hot walk up and down Clifton Hill, if not all the way down to the Horseshoe Falls, as well.  We might get an ice cream or something but would rarely get to stop in any sort of air conditioned tourist trap or shop.  We did usually get a little time in the mall (now a casino) that was adjacent to Maple Leaf Village, the now-defunct amusement park, but once we hit Clifton Hill or the walk to the Falls, that was little help.  So, I guess that's why I had little sympathy for my kids on a day like this!

It was finally our time to get on the boat, and so we dutifully put on our ponchos and readied for the ride, masks and all!

Once the boat started moving, the breeze and mist were refreshing.  Craig took this picture of Carter as it started to get really windy on the boat, the closer we got to the Falls.

First we passed by the American Falls.  It was quite a view from down below after years of seeing them from the top of the gorge.  

I loved getting a closer view of Cave of the Winds, the other tourist attraction we could have done.  I did it in college and it was pretty amazing.  The hurricane deck (I think the one you're seeing at the top) is quite an experience.  The water and wind created by the rushing Bridal Veil Falls is overwhelming but exhilarating.  I saw it on TV once and the camera man couldn't keep the lens clear of water for even a second!  A friend of the family was there with her kids that same day, and her son lost a Croc to the Falls!  Haha!

Looking up--we'll be back up there soon enough!

When we approached the Horseshoe Falls (the "Canadian" Falls), the wind and mist really picked up.  I heard Carter making noise behind me, and despite his mask I could tell he was giggling uncontrollably from being pelted in the face with the water!  He was loving it!  

There it is...

Getting closer...

So huge!  Too bad the mist obscures a lot!

The five minutes or so right at the base is a very wet, full sensory experience.  The power of the Falls is amazing, and the constant (refreshing) onslaught of mist left everything damp.  Luckily I was purposely using Craig's old phone, which is water resistant, because it and my hands and face were all really wet with no easy way to dry anything.  I had to hold on tight just so I didn't drop the phone.  But it was such a cool experience, so much better than I remember as a kid--although I didn't like getting wet or splashed back then, so I was probably a little preoccupied with that instead of enjoying the Falls!

Once we pulled back out and got some distance, I could focus on the section of the Falls on the Canadian side, which mostly drops straight down without too many rocks at the bottom, unlike some other areas.   

This is looking back up the gorge toward where we started.  It's amazing how calm the water is here despite the ride it just took.

Back at the American Falls, I marveled at the build-up of rocks.  Erosion causes the rocks to fall over time, though it's hard to say if it really gets worse.  I found a picture from about 1979, and it looks about the same.

Now...

...and 1979!  Note the old school Maid of the Mist boat in the bottom left, with no top deck!

We've had a little special place in our hearts for the Maid of the Mist since Jim and Pam got married on it on The Office, which I couldn't help but think about as I looked toward the front of the boat and remembered them knocking on the window to summon the captain to marry them.

We looked up at the Rainbow Bridge, the one I used to walk across, and marveled at its emptiness.  Usually it's crammed full of traffic and a number of pedestrians this time of year, and now, nothing.

We'll never see it like that again--at least, I hope not.  Cool to see it from below, though.

The last time I had a view of the bridge like this was more than two years ago when Carter and I went with my dad to see another spot in the gorge where the power plant used to be.  That was a cool little adventure, too.  

Our only other wait for the day was to get on the elevator to get back up.  Due to social distancing, I think they were cramming far fewer than usual onto each elevator, so we probably had a 10-15 minute wait.  At least it was pretty...

This is the view from the top of the elevator, near the observation deck.

We walked back to the van, with Carter barely making it in his flip flops, and took a little break in the air conditioning while we changed shoes and drank some water.  Then it was back off to explore.

This was a Civil War memorial monument in Niagara Falls State Park.  It definitely had added meaning with all of the monument destruction we've been seeing lately.  It told when and where soldiers from the area died, which was sort of different but very interesting. 

We walked across the bridge toward Goat Island, which gives quite a view of the rapids as they come from the main part of the Niagara River and split off around the island to the American Falls.  They really get rockin' and rollin' there.

Pardon the fence.  There's a whole apparatus on the bridge to support it prior to repairs, and it's very hard to shoot around!

I find it really cool to see the water transition to slightly more settled just as it approaches the falls.  This little area looks deceivingly calm.

This area is heading toward the Bridal Veil Falls and felt oddly non-indicative that one of the biggest waterfalls in the world was just up the way.

I saved the boys some walking and didn't force them over to the observation area between the main American Falls and the Bridal Veil Falls (as seen from the boat previously), but the view near the brink of the Bridal Veil Falls was cool nonetheless.

Seriously, how peaceful does this look just upstream?  You'd never know you could turn the other way from the view above and see this.

In order to bribe the kids to keep walking, we had to hydrate with lemonade.  They liked it so much I bought lemons today to try to recreate it at home!

We walked over Goat Island to Terrapin Point, on the brink of the Horseshoe Falls.  In a sign of the times, notice the garbage bagged binocular viewers that can't be used due to lack of sterilization.

In the winter, pretty much from this point forward tends to be all snow and ice from the mist.  By this time, after a very sweaty walk, getting back to the mist was welcomed.

There was this funny spot near the edge, where the water is blocked from flowing over, but sometimes spills a bit.  It's just a rock platform.  There are lots of coins here, and Jacob wondered if anyone ever jumped down there and hung out.  I wouldn't doubt it...it's quite the view!

This shot isn't that much different from the next one, but I included it to show how far around the Falls wrap.  They go in a big horseshoe all the way around to the area below the first visible hotel.  They are huge!

I laughed in looking through my parents' pictures, because that weird looking tower on the right stood alone in this area back in the 70s.  I have no idea why it took so long for high-rise hotels to go up in that area (maybe into the 90s?), because those views are awesome.  Still none in this area on the American side, though there is a restaurant.  I'm guessing it's because it's still park of the state park and would disturb things too much.

Here's a wider view showing that rock platform in relation to the brink.  You can also see more of the curve of the Falls heading closer to Canada.  

I've seen this stuff dozens of times in my life and it never really gets old.

Here is the other direction, looking back toward the bridge.  It's so scenic no matter where you look.

Craig remembered while we were there that there had been a news story months back that a fierce windstorm that came through the area dislodged an old barge that got stuck in the rapids more than 100 years ago.  I never knew it was there until that story broke.  It moved about 55 yards that night but got stuck again.  We looked out into the river and with the help of my camera's zoom (God bless that "old" technology), I think we found it!  I'm not sure exactly what angle this is, but it definitely looks like an old rusty barge to me!

On the walk back, we wandered past this statue.  Turns out it is of Nikola Tesla, whose technological discoveries enabled hydroelectric power to become so important to this area.

It was a long, hot walk, and I can't say the boys were great about it, but we got through it.  I hope they took in bits and pieces of the day and one day look back on them fondly when the sweat and sore feet wear off.  Carter did give the Maid of the Mist an 8 out of 10, so that's something, since not much impresses him these days.  Jacob gave it a 5, but he's not much of an adventurer and he worries too much about his hair--so much so that he almost brought gel with him!  It felt pretty good to get back in the van and blast the A/C, I will admit, but it felt even better to get out in the world and experience something much different from our norm.  I needed it, for sure.

On the way out of town, we drove by one more landmark from the wedding episode of "The Office", the exterior they used for the hotel everyone stayed in.  Interiors were done in California, sadly, but it was fun to see this place in person!

We finished off the day with a short but pleasant stop at my parents' as a crazy storm blew through, and then finished up with an outside patio dinner at Anderson's, a Buffalo favorite that offers gluten-free buns to complement their famous roast beef and custard (separately, of course!).  Ice cream for the ride home was a much-enjoyed treat!

Oh, and I will say that it was an interesting exercise in what felt okay in this new world of social distancing.  There were stickers for waiting in the boat line and we had to wear masks anyway, so that felt okay despite the number of people.  The boat wasn't crowded but it was still hard to distance during the good parts, though I trusted that our masks and the fresh air would be enough.  Out in the scenic areas we usually didn't wear masks because we could distance effectively.  However, if I get COVID from this, it's probably from walking up to an area of railing where someone else just stepped away, but I did tend to keep an eye out for who was wearing masks and felt better moving to those areas unmasked once they were done.  Maybe if it wasn't over 90 I would have worn the mask more, but it was so hot and it really wasn't that crowded, so it felt okay to me.  Between this experience and the zoo, it's clear to me I'm not going to be doing any amusement parks or other all-day-masked activities in the heat of summer while this virus is still an issue.  It's still weird that this is our new reality, but if that's what it takes to get us out in the world, I'm fine with it. 

Unfortunately, I only have a week of furlough left (not this week, but the next) and vacation time will probably be really limited after that, so we may not have many more fun adventures like this before summer ends.  I'm sure going to try to think some up, or at least plan a couple weekend things that we can do, maybe even into the fall a bit.  I need this stuff right now--some adventure, some beauty, some non-argumentative-sibling time--so it's definitely still going to be a goal of mine as we make our way through this weird summer and into a very concerning and unknown fall.

Escape to the Zoo

Without anywhere to go or much to do right now, we're getting a little desperate to get out of the house and do something other than stare at screens or even swim in the pool.  When it's 90 every day, even that loses it's excitement a bit.  It doesn't look like a true vacation is in the cards this year, and this week a heat wave is making it almost impossible to do anything except swim or sit in the A/C.  Even still, this is my second to last week of furlough (though I'm working next week), so we've been trying to think of things to do.  Our zoo opened a little over a week ago now, and while the kids are definitely not impressed by the zoo these days, we felt like it still might be a nice little diversion.

We scheduled our entry for between 10-11am, in order to try to beat as much of the extreme heat as we could.  It was still really hot when we got there a little before 11 (because getting everyone moving right now is a challenge, and Craig had a little work to do, as well).  The heat was made even more challenging by a mandatory mask policy.  Despite being mostly outside, masks are required throughout the property.  I definitely feel more comfortable that way, but I'll admit I couldn't wait for chances to take it off, like when I took a drink of water.  

It was our first time to the zoo as a family in over a year and a half.  In that time, the zoo demolished their original main building and replaced it with a play area that will remain until they build an entirely new building that will allow them to bring in a bunch of primates, among other things.  It's still a couple years out, though.  It was so odd to see that huge space cleared and changed to the point of being almost unrecognizable.  It took me a few minutes to get my bearings.  The original building housed a bunch of birds, some reptiles, the beloved orangutans, meerkats, a few other monkeys(maybe spider monkeys and golden lion tamarins?), and a few random other things including vultures and a sloth.  You can see my documenting of our last trip while the building was still open in March 2018 here.  It was sad to see it go, but it was a very old building that wasn't up to current zoo standards, so it was time.  

The new play area is huge and I'm sure kids are loving it.  I think we would have spent a lot more time there were it not so hot and totally not shaded!

Carter trying to climb a rope

Jacob trying to cross a rope bridge.  I tried it and only got maybe halfway.  It was hard!

A different type of bridge...also challenging!

Of course there was hand sanitizing after that activity!  Besides masking and reminders of distancing, the zoo also had a one way path throughout the property.  It wasn't bad aside from making it harder to check out certain animals both on your way in and out.  But all things considered, it wasn't that different of an experience.  

Because it was so hot, we ran into a lot of lazy, sleepy, or hiding animals.  The red panda escaped into its enclosure before I could take a picture, and the snow leopards were just visible inside their indoor space, napping away.  The racoons were pretty representative of the general mood, though. 

The penguins were mostly hiding in the shade, continuing to illustrate their dislike of their pool, but this one guy ventured out and went into one of the little caves instead.

Gotta love a big bird--the crane is a cool one!

The sea lions were swimming a lot, probably to stay cool, so it was hard to get a picture, but I liked this one where the tongue was sticking out!

The lions were snoozing as well, and I caught this shot through the fence while the boys were getting slushies.  Had to keep them cool and happy somehow! 

This was the up-close view by the viewing window.

A lioness was awake but sitting in the shade on the bus.  So regal, isn't she?

On the other end of the spectrum was the always interesting baboons, who pretty much never have any shame.  One was intimately grooming another.

This one had a nice little lookout spot...

And this one had a precarious view from above!

How do you balance like that?

The elephants were eating hay from on high...

Bill the Rhino will be leaving in the fall (I believe to be replaced by a different rhino--he needs to go make babies elsewhere, I think), so I made sure to take a picture just in case.  Though nothing will beat the rhino photo I got many years ago near closing time, when one had a tranquilizer dart in its butt, presumably for upcoming medical treatment after hours.  Hilarious.  Clearly on this day the heat was enough of a tranquilizer!

In the new African Savanna building I had to take a couple pics of the pretty birds.  It's not the same variety as what the old main building had, but they're cool anyway.

The giraffes were mostly hanging out inside, too, but this one finally headed out.  This picture cracked me up a bit because of the giraffe snout sticking out from the door.  It almost looks like they're having a conversation if you look at the half-open mouth of the other one.  It actually reminds me a bit of the old cartoon (per Google, The Ant and the Aardvark) where the aardvark (who I always thought was an anteater) talked out of a mouth at the end of his nose.

The zebras are just so cool.  Their patterns fascinate me.  God really had fun with that one.

On the way back through I did catch a better shot of the giraffe from the front.  I love that we have them here now.  Normally I could watch them for hours, but the heat was just a little too much to do more than a couple minutes.

When we walked past the lions again, the lioness was sleeping on the rocks.  She's so pretty.

We only caught a glimpse of the polar bear from inside the underwater viewing area, pacing around in the shade.  I'm shocked she wasn't swimming to keep cool.  The photo op polar bear, however, was sporting a mask! 

We caught a quick glimpse of a training session with one of the sea lions.  Sorry for the quality--the glass is hard to see through.  He dropped his fish in the water right after and had to go chasing after it.

As we walked back toward the otters, I couldn't help but take a picture of the lovely flowers.

Sadly, the otters were sleeping but at least it was better than some trips where they're nowhere to be found.  While we'd prefer playful otters, sleeping ones are pretty cute, too.

I was rather amused by this lizard who didn't seem to mind that his tail didn't stick to the wall like the rest of his apendages...

The geckos were plastered up against the glass, which looked pretty funny from our vantage point.

Poison dart frogs are one of my favorites, just because their colors are so vivid.  They had yellow ones and blue ones, but I personally liked this green one with blue legs.

We were rather entertained by this ghosted image on the frogs' glass aquarium.  Craig said it looked like the frog lost his grip and slid down.  You can almost hear the, "Noooooo!"

We probably would have stayed a little longer were the heat not overbearing in the masks and were lunch not on the horizon.  As a result, I think everyone had enough by the time we left.  As fun as it is, our zoo is definitely lacking a bit right now without the monkeys, tortoises, meerkats, and other things that had to go until the new building is built.  I won't pass up the chance to go to the Buffalo Zoo or any decent zoo in towns we may travel to, but I know the boys are definitely less impressed by them right now.  I love that the animals are always doing something different (unlike a museum or other static attraction), so I feel like I never tire of zoos, but it looks like the boys will take more convincing for the foreseeable future.  Still, I'm glad we went and got a little time out of the house.  I can't get enough of that right now, that's for sure.