Here we are glamping (google it) in the back yard of the moomincabin. This is right where the Sherman clan used to park their VW Bus and pop-up camper back in the day. And use our outhouse… Yeah, nothing like running out to our [doorless] outhouse and finding the Sherman dad in there… Uh, excuse me, Mr. Sherman. Or more likely I tore outta there like a bat outta hell without saying a word.

My drive up wasn’t the worst ever but it had its moments. For one thing, I couldn’t leave right when I wanted to because a[nother] loverly severe storm chose my planned departure time to descend upon The Planet Ann Arbor. So, I waited. And watched the weather. Everywhere. It was one of those days when “they” say scattered showers and thunderstorms and you are nonchalantly driving along on the I75 SUV Speedway or wherever and all of a sudden there’s a damn tornado staring you in the face.

And that’s sort of what happened today. I left when the Planet Ann Arbor storm seemed to be heading off to the east. I kept my radio tuned to NPR while driving north and kept my eye on the clouds. Rainstorms north of Flint but nothing serious. Rainstorms north of Saginaw but nothing serious. Until I glanced to the left (west) and saw this loverly vision. Say what? I had just looked at the weather radar on my phone and there were little popup-type storms everywhere along the corridor but none of them looked organized enough to produce a funnel cloud. But there it was. I stayed pretty calm. It didn’t come anywhere near to touching the ground and didn’t seem to be spinning. Was it really a cyclonic cloud? Shortly after I saw this, the freeway jogged west and then north and I was a bit nervous during the westward stretch but going north looked clear.

I won’t bore you with the whole trip. There was some text fumbling that resulted in me galumphing around in the crowded St. Ignace Glen’s for booze and being accidentally bumped in the ribs by Jimmy Olsen, cub reporter’s 12-pack of toilet paper. “Was I in town for the car show?” he asked. “Nope, I’m doing a booze run on the way up to the Big Lake.” I went to that car show once a billion years ago with Grandroobly. Jimmy Olsen was babbling about how he got in free because he worked for the newspaper. Um, there are still newspapers? He was a good kid and we wished each other well. I’m guessing I wasn’t quite the type of person he wanted to interview about the car show. Plus, he was buying toilet paper…

A few more rainstorms through the yooperland, then a bit of chilling, dinner at the Cozy, and now we are blahgging / surfing / swatting moe-skee-toes here in the as-yet-unnamed new trailer. Some names have been bandied about but no decisions have been made.

Good night,
KW

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