I was a woman on a mission this afternoon. I hadn't been home from school five minutes when I told the kids to get their socks and shoes on; we would be finishing our park visits today. And being the good sports that they are, they bundled up and out the door we went! Okay, Bill had to man-handle Fletcher into his socks and shoes, but once we were in the car, he was as good a sport as the rest of them.
There are actually two playgrounds at Frank Olson Park. One of them is right along Sycamore Avenue, but we headed for the playground over by the pool and the ice skating rink.
This is the playground I remember playing at when I was little. Well, it might not be the same equipment, but I'm talking about the location of the playground. See the pool house and the warming house in the background? My cousins didn't live far from this park, so there were plenty of summer days spent at Frank Olson Pool. And there's another whole section of this park, to the south of where we played today, that's all ball diamonds. Or at least it used to be. I guess I was talking to Bill or something when we drove past. I didn't even look to see if those ball diamonds are still there. Yikes! I guess I'll be making another drive by Frank Olson.
They were pretending to be fish inside this bubble.
This bouncy chicken has lost its bounce. I don't know if it was the cold weather or what, but that thing didn't move no matter how hard Fletcher rocked.
I laughed so hard at this. She was like doing laps around the perimeter of the playground. She couldn't see a thing with that hat on and she just kept following the edge of the sand, even though we were all at the other end of the playground calling to her. I couldn't stop giggling. Eventually, she made it around to the rest of us.
The wind was wicked this afternoon, so the kids didn't mind that we didn't spend hours and hours at each stop. We just got out of the car long enough for a little fresh air and some Vitamin D. Well, maybe not. We may have been too bundled up for the the sun's rays to have any effect.
When we'd had enough Frank Olson fun, we loaded back up for a trip downtown. Back in July, when we visited Falls Park and rode the trolley downtown to visit all of those plazas on the parks list, we were mere feet from Fawick Park. It's just down the street from Fort Sod Plaza. But Fawick wasn't on the agenda that day and we'd already ventured a couple of blocks from Phillips Avenue in order to get to Fort Sod, so we did not cross over to this park.
I couldn't find one of the usual wooden signs, so this picture with a naked man behind my children will have serve as proof that we visited the park. I bet if I'd walked farther along the bike trail, I would have found one of those small metal signs with the name of the park. Oh well. Naked David, it is.If you asked the kids about Fawick Park, you'd get blank stares. If you asked them about Naked David Park, the light would flick on, as is probably the case with any child growing up in Sioux Falls and even some adults. I had hoped to give my children some other mental "hook" for this park by attending a moonlight movie during the summer. But for some reason, it felt like Bill worked an inordinate number of Saturdays this summer. Or maybe it was just that he worked on all of the Saturdays when they were showing movies I actually wanted to go to, but either way, the idea of taking all four kids, by myself, to watch a movie in the park at 9:30pm was a little more "adventure" than I was looking for. And so, Mr. Fawick, I am sorry. Your park is still Naked David Park.
I wish I knew how to highlight just a portion of a picture. I took this picture because I enjoyed the word choice in the description of the Statue of David. "The masterpiece has charmed viewers for centuries." When I giggled about it, Bill thought I was laughing about it saying "centuries" and he explained to me that they were talking about the real statue, not the replica in Sioux Falls. I explained to him that it was the word "charmed" that I found amusing. I know I am not exactly The English Master or anything, but when I think of something that is "charming," I think of something magically sweet, quaint, enchanting. And that just makes me giggle thinking about a bunch of ladies gawking at the statue and trying to pass it off as being "charmed."
"The Poop Zone" as it was deemed by my children. Apparently there are a few geese that call this park "home."
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