A Little Jam

Loose roosters greet guests with insouciance. They're nonplussed by crowds parading across their property. Generally it is a child who views the birds with curiosity and wants to tarry along the pathway from the parking lot. Adults, more focused on the nearby delightful destination, urge their charges forward.

Weather is a holiday bonus with rain in retreat and sunshine in abundance, at least temporarily. Decades ago, fruit and animals co-existed in this once agrarian space. The owners produced more than could be consumed and a roadside stand soon appeared by the dirt route on which cars passed, bound for the nearby beach.

In the backseat of our own vehicle are two lively blondes. They're just five days past six and thus presumed to be mature enough for an all day outing sans parents. Though these youngsters appear to be completely calm about this new adventure, the adults are slightly uneasy. What if separation anxiety envelopes the girls? What if they whine and cry, fight and fidget? Will there be endless bathroom breaks or fussing about which sister sits with which one of us? Considering that we are no longer young, can we keep up with them?

These worries quickly disappear as the ninety minute ride is totally pleasant and without incident. They're excited and definitely realize that this is a 'big girl' activity. We relax and recall years earlier when we shared the same fun with our own children.



Knotts Berry Farm is a famed Southern California amusement park. Close by the behemoth Disneyland, it offers a more muted outing with reasonable pricing. Parking is uncomplicated, crowds are manageable even two days after Christmas. Camp Snoopy entices little ones and their adult guardians. There's time for an initial ride as we await the arrival of Caitlin and Bobby who've traveled from Portland to Long Beach on an early morning flight.




With a bit of difficulty, we connect with the almost already tired travelers next to a gigantic inflatable Snoopy. Somewhat still kids themselves, Caitlin and Bobby are ready to ride. They've practically insisted that we join them and bring Hanna and Jessy, too. We stand aside and watch the foursome become re-acquainted. There's some initial hesitation and we know that it'll be our role to bridge the differences.



Other attractions beckon, particularly the Hat Dance and merry-go-round. It's difficult to discern who is having more fun.








Hunger has descended upon the sextet. With a vegetarian in our group, locating an accommodating restaurant can be challenging. We traverse the park to Johnny Rocket's. Fries and shakes supplement burgers big and small. The girls sip leisurely and eat very little. Maybe this day is just too much to absorb. Refueled, we're off to watch the big kids soar in a scary roller coaster. With mechanical troubles heralding unspecified interruptions, we leave the coaster lovers and return to the safe haven of Camp Snoopy.






We're checking our watches, worrying about rush hour traffic and the long ride east. Just a couple more lines and we're leaving. The heart-stopping coaster has resumed, the wait rewarded, and we're all together once more. Hanna and Caitlin choose the Ferris Wheel. It's more aptly identified as 'glacial.' Even with a wait exceeding an hour, the Kindergartner demonstrates an astonishing maturity. Her sister, Jessy, partnered with me, has time to sample two rides during that time frame. The final ride proves irresistible and the twins rotate into the sky a few times before we say good-bye to the Oregonians and walk to a gift shop. With souvenir Snoopys tucked under their tired arms, we've waved good-bye to the roosters, found the car and pointed eastward. Along the way, the 'naming' process ensues. Several apt names are considered. "Snoop Dog." "Snowflake." "Soupy Snoopy." The last name is my contribution and it elicits unlimited laughter each time we repeat it.



As we join the mostly non-moving stream of cars, exhaustion breeds discontent and questions multiply. "When will we be home?" "How long will it take?" There's an immediate solution. Call their parents, let them hear the dearest voices. Relief courses through their small bodies. They relax and soon slumber. Two Snoopys keep watch.






The freeway is impacted, though no accidents or disabled vehicles contribute to the delays. We creep along, recounting the wonder of the day. Hanna and Jessy awake refreshed as we reach our exit. All of us realize that out there in the darkness, Mt. San Jacinto looms and silenced windmills stand stalwartly awaiting stiff breezes. We see the city's lights and soon are traveling down the main thoroughfare. Hanna says, "I love the smell of Palm Springs." We know exactly what she means. We are home, jammed with memories.