Well loved friends and a brewery

We headed north for new years as usual, but on the way we detoured to Grand Rapids to visit friends (who are from Seattle now, but come back once a year to visit friends and family). With growing kids and families, once a year hardly seems like often enough to catch up, but we'll take what we can get, and one of these years we'll visit them out in Seattle, too. And since we were headed to Grand Rapids anyhow, we stopped in at Founder's, our favorite Michigan brewery for lunch. Turns out they have really great food, too.

The great Dire Woof

We spent today with good friends, so while we started out with some chores, some piano practice, and some journal writing, we ended it with an early bedtime due exhaustion from wild giggling and activities. Legos, play kitchen, books, a walk to the park, and even a fall craft. The two little ones (who aren't so little any more) were lost in every kind of imaginary game they could think of. At one point they were hiding out in the toy tent—scientists on an expedition!—when the meat-eating Ollie-saur (or the Dire Woof, as they later named him) came lurking around and needed scaring away with loud shrieks and roars. It didn't really work, because he wanted to play, too, which meant that Ollie made the perfect play thing today, and that he is also passed out with exhaustion tonight.

We walked to the park, collecting things of beauty along the way, like brightly colored leaves that we brought home to laminate for hanging in the windows, or setting on the table. We were busy, we were happy, we had a great time.

Where you are

Days go by, years go by. It is hard to remember the children we once were, or the teenagers, sometimes even the young adult years are beyond grasp, but the memory of friendship is one that rarely fades. As we grow and change we can easily lose sight of the connections from our youth, but reunion with friends is a sweet moment, even if brief. We gathered today at a nearby lake with friends from my past. Sixteen years ago we graduated together, and today we reconnected to laugh and chat and watch our children play. From one generation to the next.

Childhood friendships do not always go with us into adulthood—we lose touch, we grow in different directions, we start families at different times or in different ways—but respect and fondly shared memories are a good basis for rekindling, or an enjoyably spent afternoon. Thankfully it was neither 90+ degrees nor storming, and the afternoon was breezy and comfortably cool as we gathered near the play structure to watch the kids weave in and out while we caught up on current life news. The past can rear up and bite with regret, or nostalgia can bring a pain of longing, but enjoying the people we've become and the generation we've created brings a heady feeling of contentment and ability, and a sense of being right where you should be. And at the end of the day, where you are really is where you should be.

Zoo, zoo, zoo

Calvin's first written word was zoo. I'm surprised, in fact, that it wasn't his first spoken word. It should not, therefore, surprise you that we were at the zoo again a few days ago, this time with friends. We've gone and had a great time with Noah and Isaac before and this was no different. As the boys grow older it is fun to observe the changes in their dynamics and interactions. Calvin brought along his magnifying glass today and all three boys had a fun time with it, mostly in making themselves lop-eyed monsters. And no two trips to the zoo are ever alike; aside from the variations in child behavior, the animals always treat us to something new and wonderful on each visit. Today the binturong, whom we have always observed as a faintly discernable shadow in the back doorway, was actually sleeping out in the open; a frog was hanging out in plain view in the fish pond; the flamingoes were honking away.

Probably my very favorite picture from this trip—discussing fungus.

Camping, a dry run

I camped with my family when I was little and have fond memories of the experience. The Girl Scouts often got me out and about, too, and then in high school I camped several times with friends. That, however, is the extent of our camping knowledge, but we have friends who have also enjoyed camping in the past (with far more experience between them) and our sense of adventure got the better of us, so this weekend, on a day's notice, we packed up and headed over to Irish Hills to camp for one night in the state park there. The event was an unqualified success.

There was a lot of teamwork setting up tents.

And then we were hot and tired enough to have to go swimming.

Then more setting up—a fire and lanterns, water for dinner, food stuffs, yadda yadda. A one night dry run was probably a good idea, but I'm not sure I'd ever plan to camp for just one night again.

Mmmm...campfire food.

Scavenger hunt in the woods.

Roasting mallows for s'mores by the fire.

Playing card games with four year olds is a whole different animal.

Bedtime story by the fire. Thankfully Curious George is the only one who got sprayed by a skunk.

The biggest success of the trip? The Stanley Thermos we got for Christmas. We made coffee before leaving home on Saturday, around 11am, and poured into the preheated thermos. On Sunday at 7:30am the coffee was still hot enough to enjoy.

And yes, by the way, that is Calvin peaking out from behind a tent room divider. We had a three room tent for the night. This was new to me. Also new was the existence of electrical outlets (several of them) at each and every campsite, and the rampant use of them throughout the camp. Aside from the apparently popular trend of stringing your tent or RV with gaudy novelty lights (so, as my dad says, you can find your own site when you're stumbling in drunk at 3am), there was even a site with a flood light trained on an American flag all night. Camping. It's not what it used to be.

But we got a good night's sleep, and had just as many helpers the next day to take the site down.

Then we went GeoCaching.

And then we went into Irish Hills for a little amusement before heading home. Finding amusement in Irish Hills, however, is a little like visiting a graveyard for good eats. All the places Jon remembered from childhood visits were dead, though not gone.

The Prehistoric Forest—closed for about seven years(?) but listed as a creepy place to explore uninvited.

Stagecoach Stop has only been closed since 2008, but its heyday was back in the 1970s when US12 was still the main route between Detroit and Chicago, before the interstate. All this according to the creepy fat old bearded guy who was driving around the place in a golf cart. We think he used to own it and/or the hotel next door (which is still open). Either that or it's even creepier that he was buzzing around on that golf cart.

There is something photogenic about dead and dying 1970s attractions, though.

What? Unnecessaryquotes.com it is.

There's nothing quite like sitting on the feet of a giant lumberjack. Actually, according to creepy bearded guy this lumberjack used to be one of the Muffler Men.

And lunch at neon barbecue. Creepy bearded guy was here, too. Maybe he owns the whole US 12 strip in Irish Hills. Or maybe he wasn't even there at all—all that shows in the picture is his cart...

Camping. It's something we will definitely be doing again.