There Must Be Magic

By GirlWithACamera

Golden Light / Weird Shopping / Prince Gallitzin!

Husband: Who says you can't go home?
Me: Well, actually, that guy, over there. . . .

It was a day that turned into its very own mini-series. What a week we've had! We've been here, there, and everywhere. On this day, my husband had made plans to visit old friends in Ebensburg. We spun some additional plans around that:

Pick up Himmel's sweet corn in Altoona, near the Eat 'n Park,
Enjoy a gorgeous steak salad lunch at Off the Rak in Ebensburg,
Shop at High Street Emporium,
Visit the Gardens at Loretto,
Swim at Prince Gallitzin, the site of our second date (and first kiss!),
Enjoy a burger or two at the Burger King in Tyrone on the way home.

We left our house around noon, stopped in Altoona, picked up 13 ears of sweet corn at the Himmel's truck (silver queen, still selling for $8, even this late in the summer!), and tucked them into a cooler in the trunk. 

We made our way to Off the Rak, where we were, strangely enough, the ONLY people there, enjoying a late lunch of two really wonderful steak salads and hot crusty rolls with butter. Oh nom!

They told us it was quiet now but they'd really get slammed later on, as Friday night is "spirit night" and anyone who shows up wearing team colors gets a discount. (Friday night is a big high school football night around here; maybe it's the same everywhere.)

From there, my husband and I set up drop-off and pick-up for me at the Cambria County Veterans Park, which features a granite obelisk and a bronze statue of a Civil War sentry. I had about 90 minutes to spend, walking around seeing the sights, and shopping at the High Street Emporium.

Some days, I visit the cemeteries in Ebensburg, which are huge and beautiful. But not on this day. I had shopping on my mind, and so I was off to the races! In short order, I was standing in front of the Emporium, wondering what strange delights I'd discover THIS time.

The store . . . well, it's hard to even describe it. They sell antiques, and every time I've been there, all three floors were open, and chock full of stuff. The lady who runs it now just took ownership last summer. I must have stopped by shortly after she bought it last year. The third floor has been closed because it was just too hot up there during the summer months; she anticipates she will reopen it eventually.

The lady greeted me as I walked in, and I told her how excited I was to be there: this is one of the neatest stores I know of! She invited me to leave my daysack behind the counter, which was kind of her, and she let me put my items on the counter as I shopped so I didn't have to carry them. Some were glass, and so I worried about their safety in my hands. 

I pointed to my camera, told her I'd brought it along and that I hoped to take some fun photos of her cool stuff. She said that would be great, help yourself! Now, there are signs all over the downstairs saying, Smile, you're on camera. 

So I knew she'd see me taking photos, as I always do. I wanted to diffuse any concerns she may have right up front. So the photos I have, which are MANY, I took with her explicit permission. (Seldom have I been challenged on taking photos in stores, with one or two notable exceptions.)

There is a picture in the extras showing the store, or rather, just one glimpse of the main aisle on the ground floor. There is a lower level, and it felt like just like walking around somebody's basement, peering through their stuff. 

You wouldn't even BELIEVE all the crazy stuff you can find there! I almost bought a set of retro Shiny Brite Christmas ornaments there one year; I didn't, and I regretted it. Of course, they weren't there when I went back again. I think perhaps I am looking for them still.

I did come home with a few items: a clear glass bowl with a handle ($7.50), a brown/purple Hadson teapot with grapes on it ($3.50), two rings ($10 and $5), one ruby glass bowl (all ruby glass items $1 apiece), and a pair of rose-colored glasses ($1.50). Once again, I admired, but did not buy, the printer's drawers for $45 apiece; one of these days, I'll have to bring one home, to use for displaying knickknacks.

I left the store with a bag of stuff, and walked over and met my husband at the Veterans Park. And then we were off to the Gardens at Loretto for a whirlwind half-hour quick tour. The gardens are right across the street from St. Francis University. They must have been having some kind of pep rally as we arrived, as we could hear noises and shouting across the street, but it didn't last long before complete peace was restored.

My main shot above is of the gorgeous, golden afternoon sunshine, lighting up the stone. This is how the light is right around 4 p.m. All around the edges of the gardens are the Stations of the Cross, which have been redone. The main altar area is open, but the smaller one is closed for renovations. There were shadows and light and trees and statues. It was so beautiful there.

And then we were back in the car, heading for Prince Gallitzin, for a late-afternoon swim! Muskrat Beach was open, and once again, things were pretty deserted. There were two people at a picnic table by the beach, and two young folks playing on the exercise equipment. They all left, and that left a private beach for my husband and myself.

Prince Gallitzin figures largely in my husband's and my romantic story, as it was the site of our first kiss, back in August 1986! We met on a Wednesday, the 13th, in a laundromat. He asked for my number. Though I was engaged to someone else at the time (long story), I gave it to him. 

Two weeks later, on August 27th, we went on a first date. That Saturday, the 30th, I drove to Philipsburg to his garage apartment for the first time ever. From there, we went to Prince Gallitzin, rented a canoe, and had our first kiss. And the rest, as they say, is history! (The area where we canoed is now choked with water lilies and other vegetation; I guess if this were THAT year, we'd have to find another locale for our canoodling, or should I say canoe-dling!)

There were no showers there, so there was no shower (neither hot nor cold) after our swim. But the water was so clean, we didn't care. Nobody else was there at this point, so we quickly changed clothes, hopped in the car, and headed for home. 

You may see a photo of me, post-swimming, and with my sunglasses reflecting my dear husband - whom I first kissed in this lovely park - sitting on a nearby picnic table, in the extras.  :-) Milestone: first, last, and only swim at Prince Gallitzin! The lines and buoys come out after this Sunday, and the Muskrat Beach swimming area will close for the year.

It all seemed to be going so well, like clockwork. But then, suddenly, things took a turn for the worse. We were on some backroad between Prince Gallitzin and Tyrone, on our way for our final stop of the day: a couple of burgers to get us home. It was all going swimmingly until we rounded a corner and saw a sign. A bad sign.

There was an EMERGENCY AHEAD. In seconds, we were putting my window down. One of two guys standing there in emergency gear asked us where we were headed, then shook his head sadly, and told us, "I'm sorry, but I can't let you GO that way."

He directed us that instead of turning right, we should go straight ahead until we came to a stop sign. At the stop sign turn right. Go for a while. At the next stop sign, turn right. Eventually, we'd be given the opportunity to select a road that would take us to Tyrone, and burgers.

Well, around and around we went. We did follow his directions. But it seemed counter-intuitive. "We're going the wrong direction!" my husband exclaimed. "We're going in CIRCLES!" We saw signs with names like Glen Hope, and Smoke Run, and Janesville, and Allemans, and Ginter, and Houtzdale. Actually, Janesville showed up on SEVERAL signs; it seemed that ALL roads led to Janesville. . . .

We got to the stop sign. We turned right. We went a ways more. It all seemed wrong. My husband pulled off onto a graveyard on a hill, stopped the car, we got out a map. As we sat there, a man and woman driving toward us from the Smoke Run area asked, "Are you lost?" Well, as it turned out, we sort of were.

They told us to go back, take the turn (as the first guy had instructed us, right WAS the way to go), go through Janesville, and on the other side of Janesville was a right that would take us back to Tyrone. We drove and drove and I think we went through Janesville, though there was no sign explicitly saying "Hello, welcome to Janesville." Eventually, we came across a route number we recognized. Suddenly, we finally WERE on our way home! Hooray!

We stopped in Tyrone for burgers, but there was a long line and nobody at the counter to help anybody. So we hopped back in the car, and ended up with hoagies from Lykens in Port Matilda for our supper instead. From there, we drove home, exhausted and starving, from our day's adventures.

My husband spent some time later that evening looking at the map online. "There IS no Janesville," he announced. And I thought he was joking. But then I tried to look up Janesville myself. No dice. It is apparently a town that was renamed (to Smithville, one wonders?), or perhaps it is one that never really existed at all!

It reminded us of that 1994 John Carpenter horror film featuring Sam Neill, In the Mouth of Madness. He ends up in a town called Hobb's End. It turns out it is a town that doesn't exist. So somewhere out there in central Pennsylvania, there may or may NOT be such a town as Janesville. We spent a couple of miles there last night. We think. We feel very fortunate to have escaped that town, real or not, and to have found our way home!

I have three photos for this long and winding tale. So let's have three soundtrack songs. First, for the glorious golden light at the Gardens at Loretto, I've got Martin Page, with In the House of Stone and Light. My second song, for the shopping extravaganza in the store, is U2, with I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For. And my final song, for the endless drive home, through towns that may or may not have existed, I've got Jennifer Nettles and Jon Bon Jovi, with Who Says You Can't Go Home.

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