1 day: Kerrytown capers

It has been my family's tradition, since Curtis and I were little, to go to Kerrytown Market the morning before Christmas.  The tradition arose from necessity–mom had to be there early to visit Monahan's Seafood Market and pick up the oysters with which to make dinner–and slowly grew to celebratory proportions; now we go (not necessarily early thanks to order ahead availability) to pick up oysters, squid, and other last minute edibles, and also to eat and shop our way through the quaint and unique building of stores.  We end the morning with the quintessential Christmas picture by the holiday scene on our way out the door.  Thankfully, late as it was (5am this morning instead of midnight last night), Curtis's train made it into town in spite of last night's nasty weather, and today the tradition has continued.  Merry eve.

Welkom Sinterklaas!

Today is Saint Nicholas Day! A calendar event that probably doesn't even make it into your date book if you are from the United States, this holiday, or actually its eve (vooravond?), is the gift giving centerpiece of the holiday season in The Netherlands. Don't forget to put your wooden shoes by the door and wrap your fun, unique little gifts for family and friends! The importance of the holiday is wrapped around the remembrance of Saint Nicholas, a Bishop from the fourth century who gave money to poor families and toys and food to children. And don't forget Black Peter; Swarte Pete, St. Nick's sidekick, is known to kidnap the bad children and sell them into slavery. And who said anything about reindeer? In The Netherlands they have an abundance of waterways so Sinterklaas relies on the much sturdier vessel of a tugboat. Are you laughing yet? Good, because it is a festive holiday of great merriment and gaiety.

In our household we celebrate Saint Nicholas Day for several reasons, the first of which is to help return Christ to the center of Christmas by nudging "Santa" back a few weeks (or eradicating him altogether, perhaps), and two others being our Dutch heritage and our penchant for tradition and holidays.  Last night our son eagerly placing his shoes by the fireplace before going to bed, and this morning he woke up to a small bounty mashed into them, including new pajamas and two new books, and, since the order of the day is giving, there was also a coin and a small firetruck, both of which were to be given away later in the day (which went , after lunch, to the Salvation Army and Toys for Tots respectively). We finished the day with a family party, including both sets of grandparents and my aunt and uncle (fresh off the plane from an actual visit to the Netherlands and bearing much appreciated candies and decorations of the season).  Though we are a day off this year (we opted for the feast day instead of the eve, as they do in Europe, because Saturday was easier this year), we still had a great time;  we enjoyed gifts around a lit tree (complete with hilarious poems on each), tastes of Dutch cheeses and beers, and a meal of Runderlappen and Hutspot (for recipes visit the To Your Health blog).  It was a wonderful celebration with much of the aforementioned merriment and gaiety all around (which may or may not have had something to do with those Dutch beers), and was topped off with a beautiful dusting of fresh white snow.

Thanksgiving weekend

Our modern day American Thanksgiving may be just one day, but according to Calvin's library book the original Pilgrim celebration lasted for several days.  We don't remember our elementary lessons well enough to back that up, but we're not ones to look a party horse in the mouth, nor are we to be outdone, so this year our celebration lasted for six days and took on several different forms.  On Wednesday afternoon we celebrated with that good old Thanksgiving tradition - baking - when Calvin and I made a pumpkin pie from scratch; meaning, that is, from a pumpkin.  Wednesday night we ventured a little farther from the norm and celebrated love by attending the Baptism of our Godson, Isaac.  Turkey day itself was a whole family affair this year, with both sets of grandparents, aunt, uncle, and even an extra friend sitting at table together to partake in all the yummy treats of this very flavorful holiday.  After a meal like that one can't very well just sit around, so on Friday morning we set out to find our 2008 Christmas tree, a process that might have been easier if the online tree farm lists were general updated.  As it was we found ourselves driving out to a farm in Saline whose only ornamentation was the "Closed. Out of business." sign out front.  Never fear, a half hour drive past Chelsea found us a passable harvest, and while our living room might want for space right now, it is sporting a beautiful scotch pine replete with a lifetime's bounty of meaningful ornaments.  We finished our decorating at a record pace this year because we continued our thanks giving by hosting a dinner party on Saturday night and a brunch at Sunday noon and wanted to use our Christmas dishes for both events.  Our house was filled with the sound of toddler play both times, and not a single garnish or bauble was broken, so we consider both parties to have been successful.  And that brings us to Sunday evening, when we traded our finery for pajamas, our fancy meals for quick soup, and our frolicking for an evening by the fire singing Christmas carols, just us three.  We did a lot of giving thanks this weekend, for family, for friends, and for all the accoutrements of our daily life, and then we quietly gave thanks for the those little moments between and all the joys they bring.  Especially the mounds of shoveling that awaited me this morning, and Calvin's rendition of "Over the River" to which he treated me (and the neighbors) while I worked.

Scads of pictures in the November 2008 album.

Pumpkin guts

It took until this afternoon to realize that the time left before Halloween was really waning (I have yet to finish sewing Calvin's costume), so we made tonight pumpkin carving night.  There's not a whole lot to say about the occassion;  Calvin was not nearly as fascinated as he was last year, although he did thoroughly enjoy the activity and even, at one point, tried to eat the guts (the kid's reasoning is sound - we've been telling him for weeks now that pumpkins are, in fact, a kind of squash).  And individuality is starting to make a play so that when we wanted to carve the small pumpkin (universally known in our family as Calvin's pumpkin) to look like a cat he made it painfully clear that it should be carved as a funny face.  No problem.  And since our text and our pictures are spacially disparate, we bring you part two of our once yearly Halloween educational series (for part one, a look at Halloween's roots, click here), a look at the origin of pumpkins.  Yes, the pumpkin you just carved probably came from the farm down the road, but from where did we get this odd tradition?  As with Halloween's origins, we have the Irish to thank.  During their festival of Samhain (pronounced SAW in) they believed that the barrier between the dead and living worlds was blurred.  They also believed that light kept the evil spirits at bay and hallowed out their harvested turnips to make lanterns.  Later, after the festival was adopted by the Christians and the tradition brought to America by the tides of immigration, the vegetable of choice became the more easily acquired pumpkin.  The Irish also gave the carved vegetable a separate name - the Jack-o-lantern.  As with our bit last year, this is a major over-simplification of the facts, but to honor the roots of this festive activity we precede our carving artistry with hearty servings of Irish Boiled Dinner.  Maybe next year we'll cap the evening with a jig.

For more pictures visit the new Halloween 2008 photo album.

You really can go back

It was umpteen years ago on beautiful Walloon Lake in northern Michigan, and my family, consisting at that time of parents, sibling, cousins, and grandparents, was lazing at the end of a white dock stretching into the turquoise lake with its rocky edges and sandy bottom.  It's a memory that  has always lived vividly in my mind, and will do so even more now that we have been back and made good on the belief that it is possible to reclaim those times from the past.  The key to success in going back, of course, is understanding that it doesn't mean erasing time, but embracing it.  We missed those who are no longer with us, but enjoyed seeing each successive generation step into their waiting roles.  The baby sleeping upstairs was not Curtis, it was Calvin, and the man enjoying scotch and cigar at the end of the dock wasn't our uncle, it was Curtis.  Oh how time does fly.

Our time there was limited by work demands at home, but we thoroughly enjoyed the four days we had by packing them as full as possible (For the photo journal of our trip go to the Lake Vacation album.  Click on thumbnails for bigger pictures, and now you can click on the bigger pictures for even bigger pictures):

Saturday, August 9:   9am Meet at the Hiller homestead, pack cars, load people, head north.  10am Hit construction, slow to a crawl, realize that construction is an enjoyable diversion when traveling with a 2 year old.  11am  Make obligatory stop at Birch Run Outlet Mall, buy  sunglasses and Osh Kosh clothes, enjoy lunch and floats at the A&W.  3pm  Arrive at cottage on Walloon Lake in high winds but beautiful sunshine.  Unpack cars.  Enjoy watching the whitecaps on the rough lake from the dock while getting soaked by spray before going back inside to read before dinner (kabobs on the grill).  8pm Make last minute after dinner decision to dash into town to view the sunset over Little Traverse Bay from Sunset Park in Petoskey.  9pm  Return home to watch the Olympics.

Sunday, Aug 10:  8am  Wake up to sunny but still slightly windy and chilly weather.  Grandpa, Curtis, and Cortney all go running (the hills are killer).  Curtis and Cortney end their run with a jump in the still wild lake to the backdrop of boaters wearing sweatshirts and ski hats.  10am  Calvin tries the lake, but the air is just a bit too chilly, so we play in the hammock and with the toys and books we brought while Gram attends a high school reunion style luncheon.  1pm  The whole entourage makes a shopping trip into town, followed by naps (mostly) all around.  4pm  Extended family (cousin Polly, her husband Justin, Uncle Smokey, and Godmother Lonnie) begin arriving for dinner.  6pm   we all enjoy a dinner of steaks and corn on the patio.  7pm  Curtis, Patty, Calvin, Jon, and Cortney go with Polly and Justin to their nearby ranch and enjoy some ring riding time.

Monday, Aug 11:  7am  Cortney runs alone and opts out of the post run plunge though the day has dawned sunny, calm, and warm.   9am  The whole entourage packs in the van and heads to Alanson for a relaxing boat ride through the Crooked River and into Burt Lake (we had originally planned to motor through the locks on the river, but the locks just happened to be closed that of all days for maintenance).  11am  After said relaxing ride we enter Burt Lake and motor straight across toward the very small public dock that is our landing for lunch at Hoppies, our favorite  "local" frequented bar that happens to be easier to reach by boat than by car.  12pm  Finally locate said dock (it's practically unmarked and you have to know what you are looking for) and descend upon Hoppies for beer, burgers, and video games (and a view of the race winning outhouse) before heading back out onto the lake to enjoy the sunshine.  2pm  Locate sandbar and anchor for swimming and sunning.  3pm  Weigh anchor and head for home, with Calvin assisting the captain (Uncle Curtis) as soon as the boat is moving at a snails' pace in the river.  It was also about this time that Calvin discovered the "slow no wake" signs and also discovered how funny people thought he was when he read them as "sloooooooow     noooooooooo    waaaaaaaaaaaaake."  6pm  Arrive back at the cottage to enjoy a relaxing evening and sunset on the dock.

Tuesday, Aug 12:  7am  Cortney and Grandpa go out running but again opt out of the post rung plunge.  The day is even warmer, calmer, and sunnier than the day before even though the forecast called for incoming clouds and storms.  9am  Cortney "sights" said incoming storms and calls for everyone to get out and enjoy the day while they still can.  Most of the entourage grabs some coffee and heads for the dock while grandpa cooks  bacon for breakfast (yum).  11am  Still sunny and now much warmer, the whole entourage dons suits and grabs towels to take further advantage of the beautiful weather before the storms come in.  1pm  Still sunny, everyone, now including Lonnie, grabs margaritas, chips, guacamole, crackers, and pate for lunch out on the dock in order to take advantage of the weather that is still holding, believe it or not.  4pm  Not a cloud in sight so we all  decide that enough sun is enough sun and head in for some naps and Olympics.  6pm  Now refreshed we head back out for a relaxing dinner on the dock, followed by a sunset swim in the warm lake.  10pm  Back inside we watch the Olympics before bed.  What a wonderful (stormy?) day!

Wednesday, Aug 12:  7am  No running this morning, instead we get up to pack and enjoy one last walk out on the dock, one last swing in the  hammock, and one last vacation style breakfast.  9am  We spot two mink, possibly juveniles, running and playing on the dock.  One leaves, but the other stays to eat a crayfish.  He is not too worried about us and allows Cortney to get close enough to grab some good pictures, even giving her a quizzical and photogenic look from only five feet away on the boat lift when she ventures out to the dock end.  10am  The storms that never came yesterday  suddenly arrive with thunder and rain just as we are carrying things out to the cars.  11am  We hit the road, headed for lunch in Gaylord before making the rest of the trek home.  Again we say it has been a wonderful trip!  Thanks to Gram and Grandpa for the wonderful idea, for securing the cottage and the boat, and for all the wonderful food and drink.  Thanks to Aunt Patty and Uncle Curtis for taking the time to be there.  Thanks to Calvin for some pretty phenomenal behavior.