One last day on the lake up north, visiting an historic railroad on the way home; a tea party with a friend; lazy road workers bring hilarity to our day; fun in the new dino sandbox; flowers are still blooming in the yard; keeping a close eye on our chrysalises, but we're thinking they might winter over with us.
Project 365 Earlier in the summer our neighbors around the corner offered us the dinosaur sandbox from their yard that Calvin has been coveting since we moved in and that their children have long since outgrown. They told us to just come by whenever we had time and take it home. A month went by while we hemmed and hawed about how to get the thing, still full of sand, back to our house—it's only half a block, do we carry it? Do we pull it on the wagon? Do we drive? Finally, after putting Calvin to bed one night, we decided to just drive over there, stash it in the back of the van, and drive it home. It was already quite dusky, almost dark, when we pulled up next to their house, opened the trunk, and started shoving the thing in, and that was when another of our neighbors drove by, slowing to a crawl to watch us stealing children's toys in the middle of the night. It's not what it looks like. Really.
We couldn't fit it far enough in to close the trunk, so we actually just backed up the street and around the corner into our driveway, trunk wide open, dinosaur peeking out. Then, after we'd carried it to the backyard and were softly discussing how exactly to settle it in its new home, I looked up at Calvin's window where I expected him to be soundly asleep. Instead, I saw, faintly outlined in the dark, the shape of our son peering quizically out his window at us.
"what are you doing?" I asked
"I'm looking at that sandbox there."
"At what?"
"At that turtle you have there."
"I don't see a turtle, I see a dinosaur."
"At that dinosaur there."
"What dinosaur?"
"That one behind you."
"I don't see a dinosaur."
"Behind you."
"I still don't see a dinosaur." (looking up and all around)
"No, look down. Down and behind you."
"Oh that! Yes, that is a sandbox for you."
"I didn't know that you would be bringing a sandbox tonight."
"No, it was a surprise."
"I like that sandbox."
"Good."
So now we have a dino sandbox, and it even came with a few toys.
225, Friday night at Dexter Daze; The rest of the week was spent up north on Walloon Lake where we enjoyed good weather, fun with family, time on a friend's farm, and meeting the newest member of our extended family.
365_2010 Actually, we kind of like touristy kinds of things. It's something I come by naturally; while other families might have steered far clear of Wall Drug, my family followed those signs, which started 500 miles away on remote and well traveled highways alike, to get our free cup of water and snap a few photos. Jon and I have mostly stuck to national parks on our own travels, but every once in a while a sign with enough bright touristy appeal will take us off the beaten road and right into the trap. One of our most regularly beaten paths, of course, is the line of highway between here and "up north" in Michigan, and we've become familiar with the traps along the way—mystery spots, overlooks, and discount malls alike—but the one sign we had yet to follow was for The Huckleberry Railroad and Crossroads Village. Having our four year old train lover always with us it's hard to believe that we'd resisted this long, but until this past trip the timing had never been right; often we've tried to spend every last moment possible in north country and then we've passed the railroad sign too late in the day to stop, or else it's been winter and the place was closed. But this time we planned ahead and left Petoskey with a stop at the Railroad in our sites for just after the lunch hour.
So let me just say that sometimes there's good planning, more often even the best-laid plans go awry, and then, once in a blue moon, there's something far better than well thought out plans—there's good luck with a sprinkling of good timing. We left Petoskey knowing that the forecast was for showers and storms and a 90% chance of rain that afternoon, but as we neared the park in a determined drizzle, we could see blue skies behind the last of the afternoon clouds. We decided to go for it. What does a little rain matter when you're riding a train, right?
I can think of only one thing that would make a tiny, out-of-the-way attraction like Crossroads Village busy beyond belief on any given day, and that would be the Day Out With Thomas Celebration Tour, but since it visits each railroad only one weekend each year, what were the odds we'd run into that trouble? Yes, we really are one in a million. As we approached the two ticket booths we were pretty sure we'd be out of luck, but instead were informed that there were a handful of tickets for the last train of the day. Great! We only needed three, after all, and now all we had to do was come up with something to do while the rain blew past. We walked past the incredibly long line of families waiting to board the 2pm train in order to use the bathrooms, and afterwards regrouped on the suddenly deserted (and covered) platform to form a plan. Then, through the rain and the whistle of the train, came a quiet "psssst" from one of the sharply dressed train conductors; "Want to ride in the caboose?" he asked with a wide smile showing underneath his ancient-looking but appropriate handlebar mustache.
Uh, yeah. He was not bothered by the fact that our tickets were for a much later train, and he ushered us quickly down the line, handing us into that happily bright red last car, and then boarded with us. I figure the rain worked for us in two ways. First, it kept the ticket sales down so there were a few left for us, and second it sent some of the people with pre-purchased 2pm train tickets home so that we got to enjoy our 40 minute ride while the last of the rain showers blew past.
I remember Calvin's first swimming class, back when he was only 6 months old; the teacher was concerned that he was afraid of the water because he didn't crack a smile once during the first few weeks, but he wasn't afraid—he was absorbing and taking stock of the situation. It was this experience that kept coming back to mind as we sat in the little caboose for 30 minutes before seeing anything that even remotely resembled a smile, and even at the end of the ride our little thinker was only vaguely pleased in a visible sense. I hoped that our friendly conductor wouldn't be disappointed, thinking that the little boy chosen for such a coveted seat was ungrateful or uninterested, but the story of the swimming class seemed a bit much to share at the moment. In any case, Calvin thanked him for the ride as we descended once more to the Crossroads Station platform.
Again with the timing, our need for indoor entertainment had come to an end; as we had pulled up to the station at the end of our travels, the rain had stopped and the sun come out to shine through the thick air of a now warm and steamy afternoon.
Once stopped we explored the caboose a bit (something we missed out on doing at the front of the journey since we boarded last minute) and then spent a few more minutes exploring some of the retired cars near the station while we waited for the next train to board and depart so we could watch it.
There's not a whole lot more to Crossroads Village than the Huckleberry Railroad itself. Really it was like a much smaller version of Greenfield Village with much less attention given to the old buildings and their stories. I wonder if we had visited on a less cartoony weekend if maybe things would have been different.
My very favorite find of the day was the old farmhouse. It wasn't so much the farmhouse, though, as the lady and her vacuum inside. Look at the name on that vacuum, and then look at the floor she was in the process of cleaning when we walked through (with dirty feet, I'm sure).
They don't make vacuums like that anymore (in more ways than one).
The upside to the Thomas situation, though, was the activity fair. Attentions may have been drawn away from the beautiful old buildings and their lessons, but after a morning in the car an afternoon of craziness might have been just what the sane-parents fairy ordered. Bubbles, model trains, and even a little ice cream sent us back to the car well exercised, both mentally and physically, and well fed.
And would you believe, after all the good luck we'd already had, and even though I parked the car without a second thought for any more than the rain and the crowds, when we walked back to the car through a baking, sunny heat, we found it parked in the shade. Who put that tree there? Thank them kindly, please. Yes, sometimes luck far surpasses the benefits of planning.
It was also at this time that we finally learned how much Calvin really had enjoyed that train ride. "Can we come back next week? Please?"
activities, travel 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.
family, traditions, travel