eptivity

Last week was my brother Matt’s 27th birthday. To celebrate, he took his friend Christina and me to the Enchanted Forest. Though I do have several childhood trips there logged away in my capacious gray matter, they were all before the age of 10, and there remains little photographic proof of these visits.

Never fear, Internets! Behold a mere glimpse of the glory that is the Enchanted Forest.

Inside the mouth of Snow White’s wicked witch. I envy those lip wrinkles:

Up the witch’s nostrils:

Inside the Seven Dwarfs’ Cave. Mostly dark inside, except for the psychedelically blacklit fountains (captured with the nifty night vision feature on the camera). Since they can’t directly copy Disney, the Enchanted Forest dwarfs are Droopy, Wheezy, Snoozy, Dingy, Grouchy, Smiley, and, my personal favorite, Lumpy.

Dandeflower in Alice’s Garden of Flowers.

Alice and the stoned caterpillar:

The haunted house, which my mom would never let me go in when I was little. She claims now that it was because she didn’t want to go, and I couldn’t go by myself. Personally, I applaud her. Though the scariest thing was not the actual house, but rather Christina’s screaming.

A “cherry pitter” in the Old West muzum. One of my most vivid childhood memories is of my mom laughing hysterically for approximately one week, tears rolling down her cheeks, at the caption: “Invented by the late Dunce McKoy. Production had to be discontinued after 10 years when it was discoverd [sic] that the pits were too large to pass through the holes.”

And finally, the most awesome plaque ever made: