When you're a Californian kid, sooner or later someone will find out that you're in 4th grade. And then they will turn to you with that knowing smile and say,
"Ahh. Fourth Grade. The Mission Project."
Fourth grade is California History. That's worked out well for all of us, since we don't know squat about the history of our adopted state. I think there might be something about Indians? And those Spanish guys with the metal hats? I dunno.
So Oscar has to make a pamphlet about a mission. I handled the last project (the holiday tradition book) so it was Evan's turn.
BUT.
Local history. I'm a history/museum buff. I pulled my card and Evan let me be in charge of this project.
I don't think it was a huge sacrifice on his part.
On MLK Day, Oscar and I drove 60 miles southeast to San Juan Capistrano.
We had lunch.
Eventually we made our way into the Mission. Oscar was fascinated by the audio tour. I was fascinated by all the different textures and patterns from years of building.
Images from the soldiers' barracks. (Oh yeah, there were soldiers there, forcing the native community to build those missions and forcing them to worship a different god. The California state history dances around all kinds of sordid facts.)
The mission bell.
It's hard to get mad at all those padres when they built something so beautiful. (Okay, when they enslaved the native population to build something beautiful.)
Kiln for baked abode bricks.
Part of the system for boiling tallow for candles. I could read about (and take pictures of) this stuff all day.
Here's my sweet Oscar B at the entrance to the garden.
The bellows.
Where they smelted iron.
I eat this stuff up. Oscar sighs and smiles for pictures.
One of my favorite things about living in Southern CA -- all the scrubby little ground cover. Aren't they gorgeous?
Oscar and the grape vines. Grapes used for the sacrimental wine.
The brand for San Juan Capistrano. As a type geek, I love all the brands. They are early Paul Rand logos,
Ooh, random window.
Oscar B as a Spanish Conquer.
And me as his mamacita.
Oscar insisted on making an adobe brick. It cost an extra three bucks.
I drew the line when he wanted to pan for "gold" for another three bucks. I reminded him that we can pan for gold every day at the Autry, and hear both kinds of music every third weekend.
Tiles atop doors in the mission.
La bella Luna!
Porthole window in the bathroom.
My Oscar B.
I grew up in an old house kept together by a handy guy. I have an appreciation for the quirkiness of old structures-- but even more for the slapdash repairs done by some random guy.
I found a lot of those at the Mission.
Playing with the fisheye and macro lens for the iPhone. I got them for Evan for Christmas a couple years ago and he tucked them in my bag when Oscar and I left.
In the actual church on the mission.
Gorgeous. I am not a religious person, but Evan and I try to raise our kids with a healthy respect for religion. In my youth, my parents brought me to a church in Canada that was covered with the crutches and false legs of people who'd been cured by the saint of that church. I spent a lot of time in churches in my life -- and every time I am astounded by the work of the people that made the church.
Oscar tucked a bill into the offering box and lit a candle for someone we love who was about to have an operation. Any port in a storm. We said a little prayer.
More interesting patterns on the 100-year-old wall of the mission.
Out to the graveyard of the mission.
To the bells!
The original stone church was destroyed during a earthquake. The church kept the ruins to remind them of their loss.
I gave him three pennies to toss in the fountain. One for his wish, and one each for his siblings.
He took his wishing duties very seriously.
We spent a couple of weeks afterwards at the library and on the internet sussing out Oscar's report. I also decided that this would be a great time to teach him Adobe Illustrator, and it was. He can start a document, create text boxes, and place art files.
We are pretty proud of him. Plus I got to go to a mission!
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