BBQ, Ziplines, and Pontoon, oh my! (Branson/Table Rock Part 1)

The Caffeinated Ginger family recently went to the Table Rock Lake/Branson, MO area for vacation.  This has been a yearly excursion for us the past several summers.  It’s a convenient drive of about five hours or so and there is a wide-variety of family-friendly activities offered in the area.

This year we took our new travel trailer on its virgin journey to Missouri.  My Chevy Trailblazer was none too happy about lugging that trailer around the countryside, so the trip took about six hours instead of five.  We did stop for a breakfast break at Braum’s and two gas station breaks because the Chevy was really thirsty and was guzzling the petro.  At one gas stop, we saw this sign:

I don’t know what a Ballzburger or a Bshdmwich might be, but at those prices, they probably aren’t selling many.

After the Chevy bravely led us to our destination, our first priority after setting up camp was food!  It happened to be Mr. Caffeinated Ginger’s birthday, so he chose to go to Danna’s BBQ in Branson.  We found this mouth-watering mecca of BBQ a couple of years ago.  Casual environment, great food, and the best Memphis rolls to be found on the face of the planet.  On this day I had the pulled pork sandwich, fries and Memphis roll.  Dear Daughter #2 and Mr. CG both donated their cole slaw to me.  It was all dee-lish.

After eating until we couldn’t handle anymore, we drove the strip.   The Branson Strip is Highway 76 which goes through the heart of town. This is where most of the attractions are located–restaurants, shows, attractions, shopping. The strip is only a two-lane road with a turn lane in the center. During certain times of the day, say for example, ALL hours of the day–especially on weekends–traffic can be at a slow crawl.  The brilliant street engineers of Branson, however, came up with the ingenious idea of marking other routes to detour you around the strip if you choose.  There is the Yellow Route, Red Route and Blue Route that are clearly marked to provide a way to not get caught in the snake of tourists winding their way through Highway 76.  I’m quite sure all of the locals don’t ever come near the strip.  Smart people, they are.

We then headed for Branson Landing, which is located on the edge of Lake Taneycomo and offers lots of shopping, dining and entertainment such as Bass Pro Shop, Joe’s Crab Shack and some really cool fountains that put on quite a show in the evenings.  The newest attraction at Branson Landing, however, is Parakeet Pete’s Waterfront Zipline. Parakeet Pete’s is a zipline that pulls brave riders across Lake Taneycomo and then releases said riders to fly back to the other side.  I am usually afraid of heights, but for some reason I can zipline.  It doesn’t make sense, but there’s lots of things about me that don’t make sense.  Just ask my family.

On this particular afternoon, Parakeet Pete’s was having a sale.  For about $25 each, we could ride the zipline three times. So before I had a chance to think about my mortality, we boarded the ski lift-type chairs.  The only thing holding you in the seat is one seat belt harness across your midsection.  There is also really nothing for you to hang onto as you risk impending death.  You are first pulled backwards and upwards to the other side of the lake, high above the water and trees.  You then are suspended on the other side for a few moments supposedly so you can enjoy the great view of scenery if you aren’t quaking in fear as I happened to be.  Then without warning you are let loose to fly back across the water to the landing. I am sure the patrons of Branson Landing as well as the kayakers in the lake enjoyed my screams of terror delight as we soared over the lake.

Apparently today was not the day we were scheduled to meet our Maker.  To celebrate, we then headed for Andy’s Frozen Custard.

Andy’s is a very popular gathering spot in Branson.  All Andy’s serves is custard–no hamburgers, no hotdogs, no french fries.  Just custard.  And it is divine!  The variations of custard and toppings to be mixed in is unlimited.  On this particular night I happened to spill a huge spoonful of hot fudge all over my favorite WSU shirt, which didn’t make me happy, but at least my shirt died happy in a chocolate coma-induced state. Andy’s usually has a huge line of people waiting to be served, especially in the evenings when the shows on the strip end and the people come to sate their after-show appetites.  But no matter how long the lines, Andy’s is quick about getting everyone served.

After eating our fill of custard and me still in mourning over the loss of my shirt, we met this guy who was hanging out by Ripley’s Believe It or Not.

 Optimus Prime!

The next day after a breakfast at Cracker Barrel (fried apples! hominy grits!), we headed to the state marina where this beauty was awaiting our arrival:

For the past few years, we have rented a pontoon boat  for an afternoon.  Table Rock Lake is a beautiful lake for boating, fishing, swimming, and my personal favorite–just floating around in my life jacket.

There is a section of cliffs that is very popular for people to climb up on and then jump several feet off into the water.  I did it a couple of times a few years ago.  I didn’t really want to do it (it’s that fear of heights and death thing I have), but I had to prove I could do whatever the kids were doing because that’s the way I roll.  However, this time I left the cliff climbing and jumping to the experts and they had a blast.

 

Swimming, floating and lazying around on the pontoon works up a person’s appetite, so we headed to Pizza World for supper.

Now if you are looking for a fine dining experience, this is not it.  The ambience leaves a little to be desired, but the pizza was very tasty and the service was excellent.  My 16-year-old son thought our host/waiter was the twin of Jesse Pinkman off of Breaking Bad, so that provided lots of bad humor (no pun intended) regarding fictitious drug deals for our dining entertainment.

The pizza rejuvenated us, so we decided to take on a round of miniature golf.  Branson has TONS of miniature golf courses–pirate-themed, Hollywood-themed, dinosaur-themed–you want it, they got it.  We happened to already be right across the street from Lost Treasure Golf.

Our family at times tends to balk against establishment, so we threw away the score card and just had fun playing golf. However, if we had been keeping score, I’m sure I would be the official winner.  (Excuse me while I pick myself up off the floor from laughing.)

Stay tuned for Part 2 of the Caffeinated Ginger Family Vacation and learn how I cheated death not once, but twice!

If Plan A doesn’t work…

Life rarely goes as planned–at least for me.

I teach Kids’ Church once a month at our small Christian church.  Recently it was my turn to teach and I had the perfect lesson with the perfect craft planned.  The kids were going. to. love. it.  I’m not always so well-prepared, so I was feeling quite smug about this feat.  (Smug feeling = Something is about to go amiss.)

We arrived at church and I went to the library where the copy machine is kept as I had to make copies for this awesome-never-to-be-replicated lesson.  As I walk into the room, a fellow teacher broke the news to me that the copier was not working.  Of course I–never to take anyone’s word for anything–go over to the copier and press a couple of buttons. Sure enough, the copier was giving the “Call for Service” message that makes copier users everywhere shudder and want to do this:

I started to panic that my prize lesson was going to go to waste because the copier decided to take a day off.  But then I had an epiphany!  I decided that I would run home (one of the benefits of only living a few blocks from church) and make copies on my printer.  Proud of my problem-solving ability, I joyfully scurried home to implement Plan B and make the copies I needed.

Of course, life wanted to show me who was boss and it was obviously NOT me. As I’m making copies on the printer, it stops and gives the message that my printer ink is low and must be replaced before any further copying can take place. Seriously?!  Here I am, trying to do a good thing by teaching these kids and I am getting bullied by a bunch of office machines.

Admitting defeat and hanging my head in shame, I made my way back to the church building.  As I enter the building, there is a prayer in progress.  I listen as the man saying the prayer is asking God to help comfort and heal a childhood friend of mine who is in the hospital because she is currently ongoing some very serious, life-threatening health issues.

As I listen, Plan C comes to fruition.  The kids didn’t need the super-duper, can’t-be-beat lesson I originally planned. What we needed to do was to somehow encourage and alleviate some of this woman’s worry and pain.  So instead of amazing kids and parents alike with my Academy Award-winning lesson plan, I decided that our time would be much better spent by taking simple construction paper, markers, and stickers and having the kids create get well cards. Who wouldn’t smile when receiving such heartfelt thoughts as these?

I do believe that God had a message for me this day and that message is that it is not all about me.  I am not in control and that is okay. My Plan A is not his Plan A–He actually has something better in mind. So when Plan A falls apart, don’t fret!  There’s always Plan B, or M, or W…

Five things I want for my birthday but probably won’t get

My birthday is swiftly approaching and the husband is once again asking me for a birthday list.  For once I actually provided one for him, but he doesn’t seem too keen on any of my ideas.

1.  Baby Goat

I love most baby animals, but baby goats hold a special place in my heart.  I mean, really, who wouldn’t want a baby goat after watching this?

I keep telling Mr. Caffeinated Ginger that not only would we get a really cute pet if we had a baby goat, but we also would get free lawn mowing.  So far I am not swaying him to the goat side.

 

2.  Lazy River

I can’t think of anything more relaxing than floating around in this lazy river during the dog days of summer.

 

Add in a pool boy to routinely bring me cold drinks and I would be set.

 

3.  Basketball Court

I love college basketball.  My son plays high school basketball and much to my kids disbelief, I also was a basketball player when I was young.  This basketball court is a perfect blend between my love for the sport and one of my favorite teams.

 

If that’s too much red and blue, I will also take a black and yellow court to represent my other favorite team–the Wichita State Shockers.  I’m not picky.

 

4.  Baby Lemur

If I can’t have a goat, I will take a lemur.  Lemurs are just the coolest animals ever.  I recently had a chance to feed lemurs at an animal park.

 

And I met this guy who was just hanging around:

 

What would be perfect is if I could have both a lemur and a baby goat, and then they could do this:

 

5.  The Jetsons’ Kitchen

Cooking meals is not my favorite activity.  I would like to say that it’s only because of the lack of time I have when I am working during the school year.  However, during the summer I also tend to make excuses to not cook.  “It’s too hot!” “No one’s ever home at the same time.”  “Didn’t I just feed you guys yesterday?”

To make this chore much more enjoyable and less time-demanding, I would like a kitchen like on The Jetsons.  Just push a button and boom! Dinner is served!

 

So far my husband is just rolling his eyes when I show him “The List.”  I still have a few more days to work my magic.

What is the most unusual present you have asked for or received?

 

The Curse of the Unusual Name

I have an unusual first name. It is a name that is gender-neutral, although a lot of people assume it is a male name. Au contraire mon frère. I am called many things, but male is not one of them. Also, my name is one that many people assume is a nickname for another, more formal name. “What’s your real name?” is a question I’ve fielded many times in my life.  Is my name not real enough for you, people?!

Because of my unusual name, I have never been able to purchase any personalized items with my name on it. Coffee mug? No. Key chain? Nope. Necklace? Nuh-uh. One of those cool little license plates for my bicycle? Nada.

When I was in junior high, it was popular to exchange personalized leather band bracelets with the boy or girl you were “going with.” (I still haven’t figured out where exactly we were “going”).  These bracelets were about 1″ wide with a snap closure. The leather was embossed with your name and you exchanged bracelets with your true love to put your stamp of ownership on them. Of course, I could not partake in such a ritual since my name was nowhere to be found on the face of the planet. I had to buy a bracelet embossed with just flowers, and it was just not the same. Junior high is a hard experience to suffer through to begin with, especially with my hair, so this was just another injustice to my self-esteem.

Fast forward to today.  Coca-Cola is currently marketing coke bottles personalized with names. If you have been in Wal-Mart or on Facebook, you probably have seen this new strategy to persuade the public that Coke is It and that they really care about you.

I recently was doing some shopping in Wal-Mart and came across this.

It was just way too tempting to not dig through the bin in the search of a Coke bottle with my name on it.  I found my husband’s name, one of my best friend’s name, the names of Cienna, Bree, and Manuel, but no Caffeinated Ginger.  An employee walked by as I was digging my way through the red bottles and asked if I had found my name.  She was very confident that my name was in there somewhere.  But when I told her my name and how it was spelled, her crestfallen face told me what I already knew–I wasn’t going to find my name no matter how many Coke bottles I displaced in my search.

 

Apparently I was going to have to relive my junior high days and the generic leather bracelet and have to settle for the generic Coke bottle.

 

Life just isn’t fair sometimes.

A friend told me that I could go to Coke’s website to see if Coke made a bottle with my name on it.  When I searched for my name, alas I was told my name could not be found in stores.  On the upside, Coke told me I had a really unique name.  Really, Coke–tell me something I don’t know.

Having an unusual name does have its perks.  If I hear my name when I’m out in public, I can rest assured that the person saying it is actually talking to me.  Also, I never had to go by my first and middle names in elementary school, which is what some girls in my class had to do because they shared the same first name.

But the best part of my name is that someone very special picked it out for me–my dad.  Thanks, Dad!  I’d buy you a personalized Coke to show you my appreciation, but I just checked and Coke didn’t make a bottle with your name on it either.

Do you have an unusual name?  Do you find having an unusual name is a blessing or a curse?  Does Coke make a bottle with your name on it?

2-4-6-8! Who do we appreciate? Caturday!

Feeding My Inner Teenage Fangirl

I may or may not be going to see Rick Springfield in concert for the fifth time this week. OK–I admit it–I definitely AM going to see him for the fifth time. Don’t judge me.

For all you naysayers, yes, Rick Springfield is still alive, and yes, he still looks darn good for a man who is 64 years old. More importantly, he can still rock with the best of them and no, he doesn’t need to use a walker to get around on stage.

I first became obsessed with a fan of Rick Springfield when I was a freshman in high school. I bought all his 8-track tapes (showing my age, no?), posters, and planned my summer afternoons around watching General Hospital with Rick playing the part of Dr. Noah Drake. I had pictures of him taped inside my locker at school. I wore lots of purple and dreamed of buying a pair of high top Converses.  Jessie’s Girl was a frequent anthem that my family could hear blaring from my bedroom.  Rick was the leading man of many of my teenage daydreams.  Typical teenage fangirl behavior.

When I was 16 years old, Rick was performing in concert in the big city near me.  My best friend and I schemed about how we could bribe our parents into letting us go to the concert.  You-know-where apparently froze over briefly because both sets of parents granted permission for our concert attendance.  To say we were ecstatic was an understatement.

I remember the concert crowd being mostly girls (shocking, I know).  Rick spit water on me from the stage (I was never going to take a bath again so long as I should live!) and I came very near to certain death.  Remember how most concerts used to be general admission only and everyone flooded to the floor to push and shove their way to the front of the stage?  My best friend and I wanted to get as close to Rick as humanly possible so of course we went to the floor. Naive, we were.  At some point in the concert, we were pushed all the way to the stage which is good because we were near Rick, but it was also bad because I felt like I was being suffocated by the mass of bodies. Fortunately there were a few big, burly security guys at the front who were pulling girls over the wall at the front to save them from asphyxiation. I seriously don’t know how no one was crushed to death. My best friend and I wore our concert t-shirts with pride the next school day.

Rick Springfield, 1982.  I snapped this picture after I was spit on but before being rescued from impending death by security.

When I was a sophomore in college, I saw Rick again in Lubbock, TX.  Mr. Caffeinated Ginger, who was only Caffeinated Ginger’s boyfriend at the time, accompanied me to this concert.  (I knew it was true love when he saw me in full fangirl mode and still wanted to be with me.)  Once again, it was general admission, I was on the floor, and had to be pulled over the wall at the front so I would be saved from certain death.  I’m a slow learner sometimes.

Fast forward a few decades.  For the past three years, Rick has performed in venues near me and I have been lucky enough to attend.  I still get giddy with the thought of seeing him.  He still makes my heart skip a beat. I still know every single word to every single song. Considering the behavior of most of the women in the audience, I am not the only one who feels this way.

 Rick in concert, 2013

 

Rick and I in the same room.  Feet apart.  Sigh.

 

What is it about our teenage crushes that make us still feel the same way about them several years and decades later? I think it’s because they transport us back to time where life was a little more dramatic, our life responsibilities (job, home, children) were a LOT less, and we really believed that given the right opportunity to know us, our crushes would drop everything to be with us.

Thank you, Rick, for making me feel like a teenage girl again.  That feeling definitely doesn’t come around very often.  So as I hear you sing this week, I will pretend that am I young, life is full of unlimited possibilities, and that you are singing just to me.

My Unselfish B**bs

Since the beginning of the year I have lost about 15 pounds.  This is huge for me because, well, I like to eat.  When I reached my 40’s, my metabolism came to a screeching halt (which no one bothered to warn me about, thank you very much).  Even though I wasn’t eating anymore than I had in the past and my exercise level was still the same, the scale kept creeping up on me.

In January I began making better eating choices and stepping up my exercise and was able to get rid of some extra weight.  However, another fact no one warned me about was that I would not be able to select which part of my body from which the weight would drop. While I lost some in my waist (Hooray!) and a little off my legs (Hurrah!), the most seemed to come off my boobs.  (Yes, I said the b-word.)  Unfortunately, I didn’t need to lose any in that area.  I’ve never had much there, which is fine because frankly I think they can kind of just get in the way.  But to lose what I already had? Insult to injury.

Unfortunately my “girls” took their cue from Katniss and the Hunger Games.

Seriously? Why my boobs?  Why not my thighs?  Why couldn’t they be all selfless and honorable and volunteer to be the sacrifice?

Sigh.  There are probably several 12-year olds out there who wear a bigger bra size than me.  Oh, well.

I should have given the fat in my body this message:

I guess my chances of being asked to model for Victoria’s Secret are null and void now. It’s a good thing I have other skills to fall back on such as throwing Fruit Loops in the air and catching them in my mouth.  I hear there’s a huge demand for that particular talent.

Thank goodness it’s Caturday!

The Truth About Teachers and Summer Break

Disclaimer:  I want to clarify that the following opinions and experiences are mine and mine alone. Teachers are not all created equal nor do we have equal job or life responsibilities.  So if you are a teacher, please take the following tongue-in-cheek.  Relate to the shared experiences.  For those opinions and experiences that don’t match with yours, feel free to say that the Caffeinated Ginger simply does not know what she is talking about.  I can take it. We gingers were born with thick skin.

There is always lots of discussion about the biggest job perk of teachers:  Summer Break.  Now before you yell, “I KNEW it!  They are only it for the three months of sleeping late and wasting numerous hours on the Internet and Netflix!,” let me tell you that the main reason I became a teacher is because I enjoy working with kids (most of the time) and I believe that teaching is a God-given talent that was bestowed upon me (most days).  However, having summers off was also one of the reasons I went into the profession–not because I wanted several weeks to “do what I want,” but because my duties as a mom come before my duties of a teacher and I wanted to be able to be home with my own kids when they were not in school.

I will admit that once 3:25 p.m. hits on that last required work day of the school year, I am OUT of there–don’t block my exit because you are likely to be run over.  In fact, on the last day of this school year, a huge thunderstorm hit right at quitting time.  Torrential downpour!  Lightning!  Thunder!  Most sane people would have waited the storm out before leaving the building.  However, “sane” is not a word used to normally describe me, so I put a shopping bag on my head and a garbage bag over my stuff I was taking home with me and headed out into the storm.

I have no shame.

The first few weeks of summer break, “school” is not a word that is allowed to be uttered in my presence by my family. They know that saying the “s-word” can cause instantaneous death–or at least a dirty look from me.  My lanyard with my classroom keys is put deep into a drawer.  I do nothing school-wise.  No searching on Pinterest for classroom decorating ideas, no spending hours on Teachers Pay Teachers trying to find fun learning activities for my students, no reading education-related books. No, no, no.

During those initial weeks, that’s when I get started on my “List.”  The List is posted on my refrigerator and contains those “to-do” things around the house that I don’t have time to get to during the school year.  Lots of home improvement projects, some craft projects, errands, dental and doctor appointments, etc.  This summer’s list contained lots of painting.  Lots and lots of painting.  I am painting a large portion of the interior of my house and I. am. sick. of. it.  Ugh. Seriously–I could just throttle whoever put THAT on The List.  Oh, that was me.  Nevermind.

I also do some decompressing such as lunching with friends, reading some of that stack of library books that has been growing, going to the lake, and yes, spending some time surfing the Web and watching mind-numbing shows and movies on Netflix.

Then July 4 hits.

July 4 is the half-way point of summer break.  July 4 is the summit, the pinnacle, the apex.  After that, it is a very quick downward slide, or avalanche if you will, and the next five weeks or so seem to go by at lightning-speed until once again, the new school year begins.

Contrary to popular belief to those outside the academic world, even though I am not contracted to report back to work until August 11, that does not mean that I don’t start working on the new school year until then.  That would be suicide. Just this morning I spent time on the working on classroom decorations that will make my classroom an inviting place for my students.

I am a Title I reading teacher and my job is to work with those students who are below grade-level in their reading skills. We do diagnostic testing at the end of every school year to find out what each student needs to work on, so I already know what students I will be working with next school year as well as exactly what skills they are lacking.  That means that my mind is already starting to formulate and construct new lesson ideas to help make my students successful readers.

To keep my teaching license and also to move up on the salary schedule, I am required to take graduate level college courses. Next week I will be in the role of student instead of teacher as I take a class (at my own expense) to (hopefully) learn to be a better educator.  I am excited about it because of the possibility of learning new ideas to implement in my classroom and also because I am taking the class with a teacher friend of mine and we are already planning what restaurants to eat at during our lunch breaks.  Learning burns calories, you know?

Around the end of July, I will dig those classroom keys out of the dark recesses of the drawer and head back to my classroom.  At the end of each school year, we are required to dismantle our classrooms–bulletin board displays come down, chairs and desks are stacked into a corner, computers are unplugged and covered with garbage bags to keep out dust, and everything that is on the floor (area rugs, boxes, etc.) have to be put up on the tables.   Of course what has been dismantled has to all be put back together, so I will reposition everything in the classroom, start redecorating, and getting ready for the beginning-of-the-year open house and reading workshop that I present for parents.

I am fortunate that I don’t have to work another job during the summer.  Several teachers take a second job during the summer (and even during the school year) to make ends meet.  There are also teachers who teach summer school so their summer break is significantly shorter than mine.

And you know that paycheck I get during the summer?  I am not getting paid for my time off.  I am salaried and my district is helpful enough to divide that salary in 12 equal monthly payments instead of paying me in 9 payments and making me forage for nuts and berries during the summer.

As you can see, the “three months off” is a myth.  Do I have extra time during the summer?  Yes.  But also do I often put in over 40 hours a week during the school year? Yes.  Do I often bring work home with me?  Yes.  Do I often suffer insomnia because I’m thinking about how to better reach and teach my students?  YES.

I will not lie that I enjoy having my summer “off,” even though it is not completely school-free.  However, once August comes, I am ready to go back.  I miss my students, my colleagues, the routine, and getting goosebumps when I am a part of kids experiencing success.  That’s why I’m a teacher.

I’m Gonna Pop Some Tags

I am not ashamed to admit that I love to go thrift store shopping.  I love the thrill of finding new or almost-new items that cost me just a small fraction of what I would have paid for them at a regular retail store.  I have found all sorts of jewels–clothes, dishes, books, furniture that I repurposed, items for my classroom, Halloween costumes.  The possibilities of what you might find are endless.  As the saying goes, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

Most of my family does not agree with this fascination of mine.  The hubster would rather go unclothed than put a piece of already-worn-by-someone-else clothing on his back.  When I want to make a stop at Goodwill and have one of my kids with me, they usually just opt to sit in the car and wait for me which means that I cannot spend the time that I would like to browsing the racks looking for those treasures that I know are waiting for me. Killjoys.

Yesterday I found myself alone doing errands and happened to be near my favorite Goodwill store.  My vehicle automatically pulled into the Goodwill’s parking lot as if a giant magnet was pulling my Trailblazer towards it like a bug zapper attracts mosquitoes.

Sometimes I can go to a thrift store and find nothing.  However, yesterday the stars happened to be in perfect alignment because I found a cartful of good buys that I just couldn’t resist.

I have lost some weight recently and a lot of my jeans and slacks don’t fit anymore. I found five (FIVE!) pairs of pants that I tried on that screamed “BUY ME!.”  I can’t resist clothes that scream, so of course I had to obey their orders.

One of my favorites is this pair of Lucky jeans that was normally $3.99, but it was half-off all orange tags on that day so they got to be mine all mine for only two bucks. They are already well-broken in and fit like a glove.  I think I’m in love. (See what I did there??)

I also bought a like-new pair of Levi’s, two pairs of Ann Taylor slacks in khaki and navy, and a pair of grey Gap slacks–each for $3.99.

I felt like I was stealing candy from a baby.

I also bought three shirts for $2.99 each.  This one didn’t look too attractive on the hanger, but I was smitten by it when I tried it on.  It was originally bought at Dillard’s which means someone paid wayyyy too much for it when it was new.

This is a Daisy Fuentes shirt that was originally bought at Kohl’s.  It has kind of a weird neckline, but I’m kind of weird, so we are a good match.

 

While perusing the store, I also snagged some kitchen items for our RV as well as some kids’ stuff that I’m going to put in my classroom prize box at school.

All of this for $33. Not a bad haul if I do say so myself.

Never been thrift shopping?  I challenge you to do so.  Not all thrift stores are equal–some are smelly (yuck!) and some contain mostly items that really should just be added to the landfill.  But there are definitely good thrift stores and secondhand shops that offer great bargains.

Let me know what gems you find!