This Old House

Today was the last day of our 'up north' adventure.  My tail was dragging more than just a bit, so Unky Herb and his Dad took the Grands to see the Hull Rust mine in Hibbing.  They found that big hole in the ground to be quite fascinating and to quote the girl, "pretty."  Not a description that would have occurred to me.  We left Swan Lake in late afternoon and have recently arrived back in the big city.  So I really have no blog material from today, but I wanted to post a couple of photos of the house on Hartley Ave in Coleraine, for historical reference.

No hollyhocks.

Loons and Loonies

The loons were out in force on Swan Lake.  They were all over -- I saw them first swimming near the shore off of the North Country Woman's dock.  Then again later, several times, in mid lake -- some with babies -- when we were out on the pontoon boat.

After a morning spent touring Coleraine (another post, perhaps), and lunch at the Trolley in Pengilly (great, great pie), we pulled into the driveway at North Country Woman's lake home just ahead of her oldest son and his wife.  They were there to help NCW entertain her guests with a pontoon boat tour of Swan Lake.  Soon Unky Herb arrived, also to help entertain us -- primarily the teens (who have been just great, super impressive kids this whole trip) -- and he also served as our primary fire builder.  Minnesota mosquitoes are fierce, but a smoke screen helps.  Somewhere in there my niece -- whom I have not seen since she was a toddler -- arrived with her lively pre-teen daughter.  The ten of us loaded up the boat and got to see most of Swan Lake.

It's a big, cold lake -- with a feeling quite similar to Deer Lake.  Even though the weather was perfect for boating there wasn't a lot of other boat traffic.  Supper, sunset and leave taking took up the evening hours, followed by exhaustion and bedtime.  I was the first to give up and say good night, but I'm still going to need a full week of sleep to recover from all this fun when I get home.

We still have a few more days to enjoy our visit, and we still have more family to see.  It seems like the time is just flying by.

A Million Dollar Day

It didn't look like today's plans were going to work out too well.  Rain kept cycling through the area, and when we drove through Coleraine it was raining too hard to get out of the car to look around.  The back up plan was to visit the Grand Rapids fire department, where PW's son is the chief.  That turned out to be a real highlight of the day.  In the lobby is a nice metal sculpture -- which we soon learned was made from a piece of steel from the World Trade Center.  We heard the story of how the steel had been acquired by the department, and the significance of the number on the flag (343).  The number of firefighter's lives lost that day.  It was a sobering experience, but one that the Grands were very pleased to have.  Me, too.

A 52 foot, $1 million fire truck is an impressive piece of equipment, I have to say.  And if you happen to know someone who knows someone who will take you for a ride in one, it is a real VIP experience.  First I have to say that the truck is red.  It's new, and the old ones are yellow, but our guide had a strong opinion on the appropriate color for a fire truck.  Yellow, we were told, is the color of school buses.  And this wasn't a school bus.  Hard to argue.

Don't they look happy?  Nobody at this point much cared that it was still raining.  A short tour of the city was in order, so we got to check out the communication equipment, too.  I think they enjoyed it a whole lot more than they would have a walk around Longyear Park in Coleraine.  The return to the firehouse included watching the chief back that big honking truck into its space, with about six inches of clearance on each side. On his first try.

There's a coding system involved in the helmet colors -- everyone looks about the same dressed in boots, pants and coats that protect the firemen (and woman) from the conditions they might face in a fire.  The green stripes indicate rookies, and the example we heard was that this way you'll never send three rookies into a situation that requires an experienced fire fighter.  So maybe two experienced people would go in with one green striper, and the green striper could gain the needed experience with less risk to his/her personal safety.

Lunch at the Sawmill Inn and a trip to the Judy Garland museum followed, with no real change in the weather.  It was mid afternoon before we headed north on Highway 38 to Highway 19 to the Mayflower sign.  I was willing to risk getting arrested for trespassing, so I ushered my Grandchildren down to the beach where their mother used to swim as a kid.  (They weren't impressed with the temperature of the water.  They say they've swum in much colder.  Sorry, OSLO.)  TT and PW weren't willing to join us in our law breaking, so they stayed with the car in the driveway.  Which was good, since they were there to talk to the owner of the place when she came out.  Who it turned out, was Carol Erickson, wife of Gary Erickson, and the same people who owned the Mayflower when we were there last -- and she remembered me, and my husband (she said to say HI) and my daughter.  They still rent out two cabins, and it's still a resort.  Sort of.  In any case, no arrests were made, we had a nice chat with Carol, and headed out just as it started raining again.  We found the right road to show the kids where their Grandfather's Grandfather had lived on the shores of Deer Lake.  We stopped at the end of the driveway, but the rain and the memory of the biting deer flies that attacked us at the Mayflower kept us in the car.  But  we got to see the spot where their Grandfather spend part of his summers when he was a boy. It's still raining as I write this, and there will be no firepit tonight.  A highly successful day, even though it turned out differently than I'd originally planned.  Sometimes things work out that way.  The Grandkids seem to be having fun, and they are quite definitely making me proud.  They are uncomplaining, flexible and adaptable.  Excellent travelling companions.

North Woods

I'm up past my bedtime, and it has been another full day.  I want to get some photos up before I give up for the day, though.  These were all taken at Swan Lake, near Pengilly, this afternoon and this evening.  (Thursday.)

Another fine day in Minnesota.

A Few Minnesota Photos

Getting here was interesting -- we have stories to tell about the trip, but we'll save them for later. We got here late, but safe and sound. We spent an evening catching up with family, meeting some of PW's family and eating pizza. We also got to meet Unky Herb's girlfriend, who is a lovely girl. This morning the five of us headed off for the Minneapolis Institute of Art. The kids took tons of photos, but I preferred to enjoy watching them enjoy the big city experience.

The neighborhood around the Institute had been hit pretty hard by the storms that went through here this past weekend, and there were still lots of big trees down. Several of them were still blocking city streets three or four days later, so it must have been a mess there this past weekend.

This was the biggest art museum the Grands had ever been to.  It is really quite a nice place, and huge, at least by West Michigan standards.  Usually I go to the Walker Art Center when I visit here, which is more contemporary art, and today we saw a pretty broad spectrum of art from Chinese art through the Impressionists with some modern stuff thrown in up on the third floor in a back corner.  I got a kick out of the girl when she saw a Van Gogh.  She was really excited that she was seeing one of his paintings in person.

We had a nice lunch at the museum coffee shop -- the girl had a flatbread/chicken thing that she said was good, and the boy had an omelet.  I was proud of them for being adventurous and trying new things.

The boy decided that he was taller than me, and I agreed that he probably was.  Though I was having a short day.  We took a group photo of the three of us as we were leaving the museum.  These vines are growing around what we originally thought were windows in the parking garage.  As we got closer we figured out that they were mirrors.  Obviously, he is now taller than me.  Another milestone, I guess.

Two Cake Party

The weather yesterday afternoon was spectacular. After watching thunderstorms stall out all morning when they tried to cross the lake, the sun made its appearance just in time for the girl's Open House graduation party.  Her Mom had put a lot of time and effort into planning the event, and it showed.  (Good job, OSLO!)

And plenty of other food and drink.  It was warm and muggy, but there was a nice breeze off of the bayou, and the view from the pavilion was great.  That's Pottawatomi Bayou, a perfect location for a summer party.

It was a mixed crowd. Several of the girl's friends were there, lots and lots of family from her Dad's side, and many friends of her Mom and her Mom's boyfriend, and some of his family, as well. OSLO had kindly invited some of our friends and neighbors who have known the girl since infancy, and they joined in the party.

In spite of what this photo looks like, there was no cowboy theme.  I do think that these three had agreed to a common style of footwear, though.  Three girls in cowboy boots cannot be a coincidence.  Can it?

People came and went all afternoon, and I lost count of even an approximate number of people who attended. I do know that, judging by the huge dents made in the cakes, that the number was in excess of 50 by the time we left, just half way through the time stated on the invitations.  OSLO had put together three or four picture boards with photos taken over the last 18 years that were very popular with the guests.  (Yes, I made the cut a few times, as did many of the readers of this blog.)

The younger brother was a big help, I am told, in the set up and clean up process.  He also kept track of his aging grandparents, and made sure none of us had heat stroke.  Here he's calling his Grandfather (who had taken refuge in the air conditioned house) to come get his Grandmother, (that would be me), who was showing signs of wilting in the heat.  Sometimes his maturity amazes me.

I had to include this final photo of the guest of honor, opening some gifts from a friend of her other grandmother.  All I got for my graduation was a book, as I recall.  (The Prophet  by Gibran.  Anyone else get one of those?)  Really, I would have loved a purple tiara.

Morning Ride

The concept of a standard ride length is foreign to me. It does make sense in an abstract sort of way, but I've never felt an urge to follow that road, so to speak. My four rides this week, for example, were 12.5 miles, 12.5 miles, 19.3 miles and 15 miles. They all felt long enough and hard enough. The hardest one was the first one at 12.5 miles. (My bike log says KMN, my acronym for "kill me now." Today's bike log entry was "Fun.")  Time of day is also somewhat flexible, though I've never been very successful at afternoon or evening rides.  My motivation to ride seems to die off after 1 or 2 pm.  I have no explanation for that, just the observation.  That's a long winded introduction to my topic, which is today's morning ride.  Storms apparently rolled through the Twin Cities overnight and were marching across Wisconsin when I woke up this morning.  The morning weather people suggested that the weather system would fall apart before it got here, but it just didn't look like it to me.  It was also 72 degrees at 8:30 this morning, with the humidity rising.  So to celebrate the summer solstice I headed out for my ride before 9 am.  The light is incredible at that time of day, especially compared to the flat light around noon when I usually ride.  I've ridden past this old barn a few times this year without a second glance.  Today I saw both hens and cows, as well as the great weather-beaten old barn, and stopped for a photo.  (Here's the picture, so it happened.  I guess that's how it works?)

The road past this place is on the eastern edge of my route, and has been recently repaved, putting it back in play for rides to Quincy Park.  Today's ride hooked up several neighborhood streets with some parks and blueberry fields, with lots of wildflowers thrown into the mix.  (The new header at the top of my blog was taken today along Quincy.)  I took several photos of the blues, but they all looked either out of focus or just like the one I posted earlier this week.  They looked bluer to me today, but just marginally.  I also took several photos of my bicycle cables and the ground.  I have no explanation for that.  Speaking of earlier posts, here's a Road Ends sign featuring the actual end of a road from Wednesday's ride.

This was taken on that 19 mile ride I mentioned at the top of this post, and marks the first time I've been to this spot this year.  And similar to GZ's Dead End sign from yesterday, it features a "no kidding" moment from that ride.  It is currently 85 degrees (noonish), and humid, with rain and lightning now about mid lake.  If I'd waited, I wouldn't have ridden.

Three Teen Afternoon

Three rides in three days was enough for me.  I'm hoping for a few more miles before I leave town next week but there were other things that needed to be done.  Nothing epic -- grocery shopping, gas for the truck and a hair appointment were the big things on the list.  I was pretty excited about filling the Pilot's tank though -- I had coupons for $1.05 off per gallon of gas.  I saved more than $14.  Don't tell me that's not fun.  Yesterday we'd made a trip up to the Grands to upgrade two of their computers with new batteries, and one of them with a new charger/converter.  TGFI (The girl from Indy) is visiting OSLO and the Grands for the week, and I extended an invitation to the teens to visit the beach, like -- whenever.  Today was the first really warm day all week, so they took me up on it and the three of them arrived this afternoon just as I was leaving for my hair appointment.  At 14, 16 and 18, they're plenty old enough to be on their own for a few hours, and while promising to throw a party while I was gone, their real plan was the Death March.  That's an ambitious choice, but they arrived back at the house a couple of hours later none the worse for wear.

A few ghost like problems had been pestering the girl's auto, and OSLO has been a bit stressed this week, getting ready for the girl's open house on Saturday while running a busy day care all week, and hosting an out of town guest.  So the girl's grandfather was enlisted to solve them. I am the usual channel that she uses to make these requests, as it turns out.  Us ancient ones like to be useful, and though it turned out that neither of the problems needed much actual fixing, he did manage to banish them at least for now.  Exhausted by the events of the day (we're easily exhausted), we ordered pizza in, using the tiny wooden hand to manage the cash transaction, fed the teenagers, and sent them on their way.  A pretty successful day.

Old Cowpokes Just Ride

"An old cowpoke went riding out one dark and windy day, 
Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way,"

"Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, and shirts all soaked with sweat. 
They're riding hard to catch that herd, but they ain't caught 'em yet, "

Okay, enough of that.  Well, maybe just a little bit more.

"'Cause they've got to ride forever on that range up in the sky, 
On horses snortin' fire as they ride on, hear their cry. 
Yippee-yi-o, yippee-yi-o, ghost riders in the sky. "

Ghost Riders In The Sky lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Bowerman's

Today turned out to be a blue sky day -- paired with a brisk north wind.  You can see the flags flying in the photo below at the recently expanded and repaved parking lot at Bowerman's.  (Does this count as new pavement?)  I had ridden Ruby to the Bay House to check to see if I'd remembered to close the garage door when I left there this morning (I hadn't), and was adding a few miles to the trip to get to the dozen or so that my poor old aching body seems to be able to tolerate.  GOINFS.  I had ridden past their store when I noticed the second sign below the first.  There's a lot to read along this stretch of road, including that U-Pick starts in July.  The big sign got read first, and I almost missed the smaller one below it.  FRESH FUDGE.  Free Tastes.  Now, you need to know that I sometimes buy JB a Bun candy bar on my bike rides.  Buns are made by the Pearson candy company, and are similar to Nut Goodies, which are not available in Michigan, but are his favorite candy bar.  Buns are available at a few Party Stores and the occasional gas station here.  My usual supplier is the PSPS, but I only get up there about once a week these days.

I'll admit that it was the Free Tastes part that made me turn around and ride back, enter the store, taste two kinds and buy one of them.  Bowerman's used to be just a blueberry stand, but has evolved into something different over the past few years.  Honestly, I thought it had more charm when it was just a blueberry stand manned by the high school aged daughters of the Bowerman's.  But time moves on, and now different blonde girls stand behind the counter where they sell a wide variety of foodstuffs.  Including homemade fudge.

It's been a while since I've ridden two days in a row, so today was a bit of an experiment.  I seem to have survived.  That's always good news, right?

Dads: Some in black and white, some in color.

All of the boys in this photo have become men, and most have become fathers, some even grandfathers. Taken somewhere around 1960.

My grandchildren did not recognize the iconic figure in the background, though the girl did recognize the companion photo featuring the man with an ax.  I guess they aren't as famous in Michigan as in Minnesota.

Speaking of grandfathers, this was the only one of mine that I knew.  He was a quiet and gentle man, at least in my memory.  With piercing blue eyes.

This is my father and mother, taken in 1940.  It's a wedding photo, I believe.  I don't remember either of them being that young... reasonably enough.  I didn't show up for 4 more years, and I don't remember much that went on those first 5 years or so.  Maybe more.

Taking photos of people taking photos.... just a reminder that this isn't the wettest summer we've ever had.  Featuring the father of my children, and the grandfather of the COTU's.

The Centers of the Universe with their father, who left us too soon, but who is still remembered, especially today.

These two photos are of the same people, pretty much.  But taken a few decades apart.  Emily and her Dad.  (And her Mom.)

TT with his two claims to dad -dom, on different visits, but with a common theme -- the beach.

And though Unky Herb isn't a Dad, or even really an Uncle, his popularity with these two rates an honorable mention today.  (As few as 5, as many as 10 different cameras used in photographs for this post.)