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Entries in traditions (313)

Saturday
Dec042010

Home for the Holidays

Home for the Holidays is the name of Dexter's annual holiday festival which seems to happen on the first Saturday in December. We've attended three years in a row now, making it a regular part of our holiday traditions, and we've enjoyed it more each time, which is probably directly proportional to the age of our youngster.

Home for the Holidays give every child four chances to be confused by the ever-present nature of Santa, starting at breakfast with the Lighthouse Cafe Santa,

then the downtown gazebo Santa,

then the museum santa,

and lastly at lunch with the Koney Island Santa (which we didn't visit). That man is busy.

Ice sculptures in the park,

Cookies and crafts at the Girl Scouts' Bazaar,

Sunday
Nov282010

Chicago for Thanksgiving

I cannot remember a single Thanksgiving that was not spent by my family in the state of Michigan. In my earlier years Thanksgiving was spent at my grandparent's house in Pleasant Ridge, and later at their home in Brighton. As the years went by Thanksgiving moved to my house, my parent's house, and then I moved out and was again a guest for that holiday. Changes really get away from you from you at that point and in no time I was bringing my own family to my childhood home for that celebration. But through all those years Thanksgiving was always spent in Michigan, so this was a very special Thanksgiving indeed that saw the three of us and my parents pile into our van and head to Chicago to spend the holiday with Curtis and Julie and her family. The traffic was light (we left early Wednesday morning to be assured of that) and the weather was congenial until we got there (when it turned to a mix of snow, ice, and rain).

Just like being at the kids' table again, all the parents stayed at a nearby hotel while all us kids stayed at Curtis's place. We visited a liquor store the size of a small local Kroger, smoked turkey on the roof of Curtis's building, roasted marshmallows, watched parades and football, and shopped Michigan Ave on Black Friday. We even ate dinner and played pool on the same furniture we enjoyed at my grandparents' house in Brighton, and enjoyed the family recipes from both our past and from Julie's. It was a great trip.

Turkey on the roof...

Taking the train town for shopping...

Bloomingdales in downtown Chicago is in the old Medina Temple, and the new owners have a done a wonderful job of integrating, or at least protecting, the original architecture. Best stop of the day, excepting maybe our browse through Room and Board.

Sitting on a million dollars of carpets in Bloomingdales. Really, a million dollars worth at least—the top carpet alone was $35,000.

It was a good trip.

Sunday
Aug222010

Back on Walloon

August for me is a calming time of self gathering and contemplation. It's the time of year when the garden work is done and the most beautiful flowers are blooming, the most delicious foods ripening. The beginning of the month is also one of the hottest times of the year and as such has historically sent many a family headed to cooler, more relaxing climes. I remember Jon's dad once referring to the Zilwaukee Bridge as the place where, when headed north, he leaves all of his worries behind. Although for me that drop point is probably farther north, in Westbranch, I completely understand the sentiment, and for the past week my worries have lived in Westbranch while we took in the turquoise waters of Walloon Lake.

Saturday saw us up bright and early, headed for north of the forty-five, our spirits weighted only by concern for what we may or may not have forgotten. Good thing they have a Meijer up there now. One thing we didn't leave behind? The caterpillars. By the time we left only one of them had strung himself to a branch and was preparing to go into chrysalis mode.

We arrived in time to share in the beautiful sunshine and warm water (78 degrees!) with my cousin's family before they headed back south. It's hard to believe that thirty years ago we were those little kids, our parents were the "kids" and our grandparents were the parents. 

Two kids in a hammock. I think our grandparents would have loved to see this.

Sunday dawned bright and windy. Did I say windy? I mean batten down the hatches kind of windy. The sun was warm, the water was warm, the wind was windy.

The caterpillars were happy. And just look at the color of that lake.

Wind just means having to work up a sweat before getting in the water, for whatever that's worth when you go to get out and you're wet all over.

Look at that churned up water.

Monday was sunny and windy and slightly less warm and we headed to Charlevoix for some entertainment and some smoked fish. Because you can't go north without enjoying smoked fish and smoked fish dip.

Tuesday, after breakfast in Petoskey, we spent the morning on the farm of an old friend (of Gram's) who was kind enough to invite Calvin for the morning chores. We met pigs, fed chickens and collected eggs, drove out to count cattle (who were elusive in the woods, of all places), and bottle fed a calf.

Wednesday dawned bright but chilly, so half the crowd headed to town for Pirate's Cove golf.

But it turned warm and sweet by early afternoon and we ended the day in the beautiful lake as the sun dropped lower and lower in the sky.

Thursday, after breakfast in town, we were lucky enough to meet Ada, the newest member of our extended family, who was born to Polly and Justin just the day before. I can certainly say she's a beautiful baby. I can also certainly say that Calvin was glad to be leaving her there.

Calvin seemed to greatly prefer these babies, which we passed on the way home, to the human one.

Thursday afternoon was almost as beautiful as Wednesday afternoon and we spent the time relaxing on the dock and in the water, but ended the day in town at the aptly named Sunset Park. Every year, it must be done.

 Friday morning I took my coffee out on the dock and watched the storms rolling in, by, and beyond.

With weather like that predicted all day we headed into Mackinaw City for fried fish at the Key Hole and fudge from Murdick's (what you don't know is that we'd gotten fudge in Charlevoix, too...)

And would you believe, by the time we got back to the lake the sun was shining and the storms were blowing just north of us, close enough that we could visually enjoy the line of contrast between the storming clouds just north of the lake, and the wisps of vapor sporadically obscuring the sun shining over us.

What a beautiful afternoon with which to bring up the rear of our vacation week.

And the storm that came after we were already inside for the night was like a final farewell, a reminder of the baggage waiting in Westbranch for pickup on our way back down.

We don't give in easily, though, so on our way home we made a stop at the Huckleberry Railroad for one last bit of vacation (the touristy kind), but that's for another post.

There's another 44 pictures from throughout our week at the Lake in the Walloon Lake 2010 photo album. Enjoy. We did.

Tuesday
Aug102010

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.

Sunday
Jul042010

Happy Fourth

We celebrated a day early with fireworks, a fire and s'mores, and good company in our own driveway.

At least it wasn't full of water when he put it there...

Either he's trying to eat her sparkler, or she's about to turn him into a newt.

And not to forget the S'mores.