Mom loved an adventure, and when we were growing up, she had a book called "Away We Go", with suggestions for day trips around the New York City area. We went to Sterling Forest Garden and Bear Mountain along the Hudson River, to Jones Beach on Long Island, to the Edison home in New Jersey and Valley Forge. I can't REMEMBER all the places we went on our weekend jaunts! But it was always fun. One summer when we were up in Maine and having a very long spell of foggy weather, Mom decided we should go visit a Penobscot Indian village. I don't think she had a very clear idea of how far away it was or how long it would take to get there. It turned out to be a VERY long drive indeed, through rain and nasty weather; when we finally arrived at the so-called "Indian village", it was a sad, dilapidated place with a large concrete "tepee", at the entrance, a "trading post" (selling tourist trinkets) and probably the remaining two Penobscot Indians in the whole state of Maine. I'm sure Dad was NOT amused at the time, but we all got many laughs out of it afterwards.