“Landfill report” is a text I received from a beach urchin this afternoon. It means something like, “What are my doddering old parents doing today?”

Well, okay, it’s pretty boring. The GG walked to Dexter. I did my word puzzles. I got queen bee with “homonymy” but now that I’m thinking about it, I didn’t finish the wordle… I went to the Plum Market. I drove out to Dexter’s Pub for lunch with the GG. We had lunch and then he wanted me to drive home. He’s been doing a LOT of driving in the last few weeks. So I did but I didn’t drive straight home. I drove by the Blast Corn Maze (near the mousenest), then by the llama house (no llamas out and also near the mousenest). Then I went north of North Territorial Road and ended up getting “lost”. Not really lost but getting back on track involved a short trip on the freeway, which I didn’t want to do. But okay. Arrived home and the GG did some trailer maintenance on the Lyme Lounge.

It’s throwback Thursday and I don’t usually participate in that but the Chippewa County Historical Society (CCHS) does. I donate to them and once when I commented on a post about my dad/granddaddy’s old bank, which I VAGUELY remember (I was three), I was rewarded with a reply from the CCHS director talking about how much my dad had helped with his first mortgage. I know my dad (and granddaddy) were not that helpful to everyone, I mean people who didn’t pay their debts, etc. But that topic is for another day (or days). I’m still figuring out why we *still* don’t patronize various businesses even though their original owners are long dead and the businesses sold. And why I didn’t get a waitress job at a certain restaurant as a teenager. Was it my name? It’s okay, I worked for Mr. Drysdale at “your Tempo store” instead. He was a friend of my dad… … … It *was* my name but I was also a very good employee.

Today, the conversation veered from another topic to Coty’s Hill! I dunno how many blocks from my shabby little Superior Street house Coty’s Hill was but we used to schlep our sleds over there. It was at the end of John Street, where my grandparents lived although much closer to downtown. Although we sledded there many times, my main memory is walking home from there in the dark past huge mountains of snow. Life as a child in the Great White North.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 1st, 2026 at 6:52 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.