I wonder if The Commander would’ve approved of these loverly purple sandals. I’m pretty sure that she would not have approved of the color although she’d’ve probably kept her mouth shut. I am gonna venture to guess that she might have recognized their functionality for Michigan backwoods style hiking expotitions. She *may* have gotten a kick out of the fact that they kind of look like aliens.

One of the worst hiking expotitions I have ever been on (in terms of footwear, that is) is the time I let The Commander talk me into wearing something besides what I had *planned* on wearing. Here’s the thing. The Commander had expertise in a variety of subjects. If you had a question about cooking or baking or sewing or you wanted to have an intellectual discussion about a book or any number of things that I’m not pulling out of my memory banks at the moment, The Commander would definitely be a person you might consult. Hiking or swimming or kayaking or skiing expotitions? Not so much. (Although she did own a kayak…)

A few years ago, when both The Comm and Radical Betty were still on this side, the GG and I went on a late fall North Country Trail hiking expotition between the lower and upper falls at Tahquamenon. The Commander eyeballed my Teva sandals and asked something like, “You aren’t going to go hiking in THOSE, are you?” Well, yes, I was. There was a little snow around but nothing too deep for hiking sandals and smartwool socks. She rummaged around and pulled out an absolutely ANCIENT pair of “hiking boots” of hers and strongly suggested that I wear those. I was not convinced. Old technology is not necessarily better when it comes to footwear, not to mention that The Commander’s feet were a whole size larger than mine are!

The Comm and the GG (sorry but you did) kind of ganged up on me and shamed me into wearing those stupid old boots. What a disaster. They didn’t fit! They didn’t fit! They didn’t fit! I KNEW they wouldn’t fit. I sloshed along in those crappy old boots all the way from the lower falls to the upper falls. Whatever socks I was wearing kept sliding down under my heel and I would have to stop and unlace the boots (yes, they had LACES!) and pull my socks back up. Lather, rinse, repeat. Yeeesh!

I’ll have to replace these cute little purple alien sandals with boots soon enough but they are loverly for the kind of mildly strenuous hiking I do here in the Great Lake State when there isn’t more than a couple inches of snow. They fit me like glubs, and they are WASHABLE! In fact, I think I will run them through the washing musheen when I get back to the Landfill tomorrow. Mrs. Commander, you were a great moom and I love you but I do not miss your concern about my footwear. Alas, now that I think about it, that concern (and all the goddamn Buster Brown shoes of my youth, etc.) probably stemmed from the fact that I was born with a “crooked” foot. I wore a “brace” for a while to correct it. I was not born perfect and The Comm remained concerned about my feet throughout her life.

Anyway… Raking the leaves here at the Group Home this morning was, as a friend with a cabin on L. Huron says, “work with a view”. We raked through rain and snow and hail (?). The form of precipitation changed by the minute. There were pretty high winds throughout the whole thing and some blazing appearances by Mr. Golden Sun. It took us a full morning to do the leaves but it was fun and exhilarating and our load was lightened by others who have raked in recent weeks.

Note to self: The next time you are raking leaves at Houghton Lake and an Old Fart comes along and stops his pickup truck to be jolly with the GG, when he asks the GG, “Is she the muscle?” your answer is not, “I am the muscle”. It is, “I am the muscle *and* the brain”. [insert error aminal here…]

Man oh man, today was today a loonnnng (but fun!) day. We were all over The Great White (and then not so white) North today and I am not able to make a coherent story about all of it. We began the day with the loverly s-word drive shown in the photoooo below. We were following the Uncly Uncle (in the red jeep) out of his fancy subdivision to a parking spot in Gaylord (long story involving a trip over to Green Bay tomorrow…).

I took the photooo from the back seat of the Frog Hopper. Riding President? Is that what we used to call it? I ensconced myself back there with all the aminals (Froooggy, Turnstile, Softy Beanbag, Stowaway and Tagalong and I dunno who else) so that the UU could ride up front with the GG after he dropped off his vee-hickle. We had snow driving all the way up to the damn bridge (you know the one) and I was sitting back there trying to ignore the road conditions. They were certainly not the worst I’ve ever seen, lots of slushy stuff, but still.

That Weather almost made us late for today’s North Country Trail group hike. Usually there’s a lot of cat-herding involved in spotting vee-hickles for an always unknowable number of participants so being a little late is okay. Today we got there just when Bob M was giving his safety speech! (That was pretty okay with me actually, I hate standing around and I hate cat herding [grin]). Anyway, our hike today was not the longest we’ve ever taken (2.75 miles plus the UU and Tom and I did a little extra half hour or so while waiting for the drivers to come back for us) Beautiful. Highlights? Hearing a Red-tailed Hawk calling right next to the trail (and a fun facebook exchange about that involving Our Northern Correspondent). Also, hiking through long stretches of the kind of moss and lichens, etc., that blanket the bank above the Moominbeach. Here’s the Brevoort River:

There was no snow north of the bridge and the temperatures warmed into the 40s so any precipitation that we encountered was in liquid form. We were lucky that nothing much came out of the sky until the hike was basically finished and the UU, Tom and I were walking out of the woods after our extra little boondoggle. Lunch at the Whitetail Resort in Brevort with a whole passel of NCT folks. Bison pasties and so much fun and laughter! With some trepidation (on my part) we left the UU in a motel room there and headed back down to troll-land. Man was it cold and rainy! This is what Lake Michigan looked like this afternoon:

Cold and rain and wind (but no damn snow, thank you god or whoever) all the way down here to the Houghton Lake Group Home. Quick stop at the Gaylord Glen’s Family Fare. Another quick stop at the UU’s to pick up the polartech vest I left behind and drop off some of his stuff. Dark, rainy drive from there to the Group Home but glad to be here. It might be more fun here if some other C-Fam folks were here but whether anyone else is here or not, it still feels like home sweet home. Thanks to y’all for that.

Raking what remains of the leaves tomorrow. Much thanks to those who have already raked.

Love y’all,
Kayak Woman

I left work early today and we hauled the Lyme Lounge up to its winter berth at Uncle Bare’s Bear’s house here in Gaylord. It fits nicely in Uncle Bare’s Bear’s garage. We peeled off the I75 SUV Speedway just north of Bay City and took “old” highways up to West Branch, past the Giant Mouse at Wilson’s Cheese Shop and other various attractions.

When we got to West Branch, as we were approaching a traffic signal, a po-leese car drove into the intersection and stopped traffic. What for? To let the football team through! It was a parade, albeit a small one with two cop cars, two school buses, and an SUV pulling an equipment trailer. We followed right along with our Frog Hopper and Lyme Lounge. The GG was a little annoyed at first but actually it was kind of fun. You can’t really tell in the crappy photooo but there are people all over the place, out to wish their small-town heroes well in tonight’s conquest. I have mixed feelings about football and the culture that sometimes goes along with it but I grew up in a small town too and I remember some awfully good times during the football season. Hmmm, maybe it helped that I, as a nerdy band kid outsider type, wasn’t wrapped up in that culture too much. I will have to think about that. Anyway, go Falcons of Ogemaw Heights High. Beat Cadillac! And go Sault High Blue Devils tomorrow. Beat Mt. Pleasant! Wait a minute? We play Mt. Pleasant now? Oh wait. I guess that’s the playoffs.

So we are here at Uncle Bare’s Bear’s house and yes there is snow on the ground. I am playing a dangerous game coming up here WITHOUT WINTER BOOTS! (Note to KW: you have some boots all picked out and saved in your stooopid phone. ORDER THEM ALREADY!) I mean, it is okay here at Uncle Bare’s house. The streets are just wet and my shoes are fine. Tomorrow? Let’s just hope that the forecast for rain and 40s holds and that there isn’t a lot of snow on the hiking trails.

Mr. Bare Bear Nature? Has the statute of limitations run out on this story from something like 1972 yet? Okay. So, I was in high school and I had a new boyfriend (who wasn’t from the proverbial “wrong side of the tracks”). He was a couple years older than me, in college and working to put himself through. My parents liked him. I’m not sure they were all that crazy about some of his friends. There was this one guy we called Chewy and he and his wife (yes, he was married at 20 and there was one baby and another on the way) lived in this teensy tinesy wee little *messy* house. I was over there with my boyfriend and his friends having beer one night. His wife was really really nice but I’m sure she probably got frustrated having a bunch of teenagers at her house. Anyway, we were having beers and I did not get drunk but some others, including Chewy, got plastered. When my boyfriend and I left, Chewy was lying outside in the snow beside his car. He was fully clothed, wearing a winter jacket and everything. My boyfriend took me home and then circled back to check on his friend, who was, at that point, lying NAKED in the snow… He got his friend back inside the house (the wife had probably gone to bed) and everything was fine except that everybody called him Mr. Bare Bear Naked for a while. My boyfriend and I grew up and I broke up with him. Chewy grew up and became a po-leese-man and moved to a different house and the teensy tinesy wee house is no longer there. My boyfriend took his hard-earned accounting degree and moved to the PAC northwest and by what accounts I have heard, has a wonderful family and career. By the way, I am not trying to make a point with all this, just a little peek into my childhood.

Good night! We are having a cocktail before heading out to Benethums for dinner! Good times in Gaylord!

Yes, it is in the forecast. Will we get any of that stuff here on The Planet Ann Arbor? I don’t think so. Maybe a few spitty little bits. I think it’s mostly hype. Not that it’s early for us to have snow here because it certainly is not. But I am not really ready. I mean I am ready for snow and snow shoveling and even egregious idling to let the ice thaw on my vee-hickle’s windows. I am not ready for snow commuting with the unwashed cell-phone-talking texting masses. I remember how nice it was when we finally stopped getting snow and ice late last spring. I thought aahhhh, we have MONTHS of dry pavement ahead of us. We are just about done with that, alas.

I read this article about a huge blizzard-type event that happened 100 years ago on the Great Lakes. The Great Lakes storm event that I experienced in my lifetime [so far] was the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald (you know the Gordon Lightfoot song). That anniversary is coming up in a few days and I am not sure I am strong enough to tell you how many years ago it was. But the White Hurricane happened 100 years ago and sunk many many ships and, alas, most of us have no memory that it happened. My parents were not born yet.

My grandfather was a young man in Sault Ste. Siberia in 1913. I do not think he owned a car at that time. I’m pretty sure that most people didn’t own cars in 1913. In those days, the city of Sault Ste. Siberia was small enough that you could walk anywhere you needed to go. Or maybe you had a horse-drawn buggy. And was there a street-car? I wonder how the citizens of Sault Ste. Siberia did on the night of the White Hurricane. I am pretty sure that there weren’t a whole lot of car accidents because I’m pretty sure there weren’t a whole lot of residents who owned cars. My grandfather certainly owned an automotive vee-hickle well before I was born and and I remember riding with both my grandparents many times. But not in 1913.

I’ve been loving having the Lyme Lounge hanging out in the Landfill driveway but I think we’ll be taking it up to its winter berth this weekend. Wonder if my grandparents could have conceived of this particular scenario…

G’night,
KW

And darkest. I turned on my actual headlights to drive home today, not just the running lights. Then I walked over to the Plum after work and wondered if my red skirt and shoes would make me at all visible crossing the Maple/Dexter intersection on the way home. (Shelf-stocking gal to KW [who was happily fumbling around in the Near East rice / couscous / quinoa section]: Are you finding everything? KW [uber-cheerfully]: Sure! I’m just randomly wandering. What do I wanna cook tonight? Salmon! Yeah!). So, to combat the gray and dark of a typical rainy November day, here’s a little color. I’m not happy with how this one turned out. I lust after the upgraded camera in the iPhone 5S. Although, in truth, it is the photographer who makes the photo good or bad, not the equipment. This was a cheap and dirty shot. We were walking up W1.5’s street and the GG was ahead of me and I wanted to catch up. Not to mention that I was lugging a heavy backpack filled with produce from the farmer’s market. It’s colorful though and I love color. And sometimes the absence of it. It’s complicated, my relationship with color…

It’s funny (to me) that I took a series of serious college courses on web graphics aka photoshop and nowadays I can often do pretty much what I need to do to tinker with a photo with my phone. That’s not to say that photoshop isn’t a valuable tool any more. Just that for the average baggy old vanity blahgger, it isn’t totally necessary. But I still use it. I know how to use it!

And when are we going to stop calling these smart phone devices phones? They are full-fledged computers that fit in our pockets. I do occasionally use my iPhone to actually make a call but only occasionally. I HATE phones. I am so awkward with phone conversations.

Has @TwentyPoundCarp revealed his / her identity? Cryptic tweets from Planet Ann Arbor politicos indicate that may be the case but I am not an insider (and don’t want to be, heaven forbid!) and do not know the truth. I was kind of hoping the carp would go along indefinitely. I mean, the REAL carp, the actual FISH that was moved from the pond in West Park to Gallup Park. That carp could well be dead by now but I loved that he lived on via Twitter. Note to my fourth ward readers (all two of them): as intriguing as the carp was as a candidate, I’d’ve probably voted for Eaton. For whatever reason, the fourth ward seems to have ended up with some of the most insipid council reps ever in the last few years and I’m glad to see one of them get replaced by someone who actually cares about, oh, you know, SERVICES. For TAXPAYERS…

Who? The 20-pound carp, of course! He was pulled from the small pond at West Park last November and moved to a more appropriate location at Gallup Park. Anyone who has ever kayaked in the Huron River at the right time of day during the carp mating season knows that the little pond at West Park is *not* suitable for a great big carp. I know from experience that a big old carp can knock a baggy old kayak woman around in her boat pretty darn well.

The carp quickly joined a few other local Twitter celebrities like the Dexter Bare Bear (@DexterMiBear) and the @AnnArborCougar and I of course began following the carp (@twentypoundcarp)*. The bare bear and the cougar kind of faded into the woodwork and so did the carp for a while. Until this election season. Now he seems to have gone “viral” and maybe some of y’all have even heard of him (er, her? hmmm, not sure).

I was voter number three this morning. I got there at 6:57 and Mr. Lovett, who is “always” first and one other guy were ahead of me. Actually, Mr. Lovett is not *always* first. *I* was first once in the last couple years. I can’t remember which election that was. Now that I know who our #1 voter is, I will always let him be first, even if I get there before him. As usual, there was a bit of a kerfuffle with us first few voters as various poll workers flubbed up the procedure. I don’t hold this against them. If we held elections (for whatever) every week, these people would know exactly what they were doing. We don’t and I know it ain’t easy for a poll worker to remember what the heck you had to do with that laptop a few months ago. As luck would have it, the Ballot Eater was also not working correctly. It would not eat anyone’s ballot and we all (the three of us) had to stuff our ballots into an “Emergency Ballot Slot” or something. They put a call in to Election Central and the GG reports that the Ballot Eater was fixed by the time he voted this evening after work.

The GG was voter #281 and he actually had to wait in a line to vote, albeit a short line. Actually, that’s a pretty good number of people for the kind of election it was. We were voting for two things. One was a city council member. There was only one name on the ballot and it was that of the incumbent and I like him okay so I voted for him. Two other folks campaigned as write-ins. The second issue was approval to continue the school district’s sinking fund millage. Those are not issues that tend to get people to vote, as important as they are. But 281 (and counting) voters for a little election like this is a bit heartening. Except that I wonder how much of that is due to the 20-pound carp’s campaign, which may have made folks actually notice that there was an election today.

I don’t have much else to say except VOTE. Especially in these little local elections. They are important. It can be hard to understand all of the issues. They are complex and not always articulated in a way that a busy worker / parent / whatever can understand. I know because I am guilty of not voting for a few years. I still don’t understand all of the issues and their various complexities but I now *try* to pay as much attention as I can to polly-ticks and I was able to choose who and what to vote for without just picking a name that I had vaguely heard of before or a party. I’m not 100% crazy about my voting choices today but they are the best I could do with what was available. If more folks would get involved on a local level, I think we might end up with better choices on every level. But I am not holding my breath.

* Why do I follow these entities on Twitter? I do not know. Probably the same reason I follow God, Lake Superior, and Pope Francis’s Latin Twitter feed. Because I can! Do they all follow me back? Of course not!

That’s my purse. Yes, I travel light. It has one compartment for my phone and another for cards and whatever random amount of cash I happen to have on me, usually not very much. I don’t deal in coins much except that I tend to snag quarters for the car wash and the londry-mat.

This morning? I could not find my blasted purse. Anywhere. I discovered this [of course] a split second before I headed out the door. I panicked for about another half split second before I realized where it was. At least I was 99.9999% sure that it was in the Mean Green Frog Hoppin’ Musheen, right where I left it yesterday when we got home from hiking and I got distracted by a momentarily missing glub in the back seat and subsequently fergot to retrieve my purse from the pocket in the door next to the driver’s seat. Problem? The Mean Green Frog Hoppin’ Musheen was, at that moment, safely ensconced behind the Vee-hickle Eater over at That Darn EPA, five miles in the opposite direction from where I was headed, plus, Vee-hickle Eater, don’t’cha know. I have not had an EPA badge for years…

Problem solving mode. Problem: Can I get to Barry Bagels (to meet MMCB) without getting into an accident or some other situation involving the po-leese? Solution: Probably, seeing that the only accident I’ve ever had that involved the po-leese was when I was 17 — long story involving my grandmother’s 1965 [I think] Ford Fairlane [500?] and glare ice (and I was not at fault). I don’t count the time I was parked in the Indefatigable in the Commie High parking lot waiting for Mouse when a kid driving an old beater with a fake leg sticking outta the trunk rear-ended me. I hate driving around without my driver’s license but I was pretty confident that I could stay under the, uh, radar.

Problem: How do I pay for coffee? Solution: By scooping up a bunch of quarters (like I said earlier, I do snag quarters) before heading out the door.

Problem: How do I get in the door at work? Hmmm… Who will be at work when I get there and what are their phone numbers? Hmmm… I have a laminated list of phone numbers. Oh shoot, that list is in my purse! Cube Nayber is off today and the Queen Bee comes in later than I do, even when coffee with MMCB is on my agenda. If I get to work at the same time as W1.5 or Louie-Louii or somebody, I can piggyback in the door with one of them in flagrant violation of company security policies. But that’s a long shot. There are ways to get in but it’s all a pain in the you-know-what. I understand security issues but about the only interlopers that frequent our business park are folks looking for The Admiral and his friends, aka Bird Watchers!

In the end, I met up with MMCB at Barry’s, called the GG, who checked the Frog Hopper and FOUND my purse, just like I thought he would. And then I drove over there and retrieved it. MMCB said, “at least your phone wasn’t in your purse!” Well, of course not. My phone is almost never more than a couple feet away from me. How the heck would I be able to tell what the weather is when I wake up in the morning? If my phone had been in my purse, I would’ve realized my purse was missing oh, maybe about noon yesterday.

Kkkkkk-shk. Kkkkk-shk. He’s standing behind me sharpening a knife. Oh don’t worry, he isn’t gonna stick it in my back or neck or anything. It’s the sound more than anything. And just something about knives in general, especially those big sharp butcher knives that slice up big hunks of protein and pumpkins and things. I use them but I am waaaayyyy careful with them.

Did the switch back to standard time throw anybody else off? There are a lot of folks who kvetch about switching the time back and forth. They are free to do that and I think they make some valid points but I like the “midnight sun” of summer and I also like the dark late afternoons of winter. One of my favorite ways of coping with darkness is to get outside and walk in it (it works for bad weather too). That said, I live in a neighborhood where it is safe to walk in the dark. That’s not a luxury everyone has. Back during the “energy crisis” of the early 1970s, I remember when a year when daylight time never went away. It was particularly interesting up there in the yooperland where the sun didn’t come up until something like nine in the morning.

Anyway, I was mildly thrown off this morning when I got up at 5:30 in the morning and somehow thought that it would get light sometime soon. Of course not! It didn’t even start to get light until close to eight yesterday. I had another hour or so to wait for dawn. I didn’t take my 0-skunk-30 walk this morning because we had a hiking plan going on, so I made breakfast! Eggs scrambled with spinach, garlic, and feta among other things.

And here is where we hiked today. We took the Penosha trail, which is about five miles. A lightly strenuous five miles through glacial moraine territory. Constant up and down with little kettle lakes everywhere. I felt that good fuzzy “I got some exercise” feeling at the end but it wasn’t a death march. As you can see, there is quite an extensive system of bike trails there. I am so glad that they have created bike trails that are kept separate from the foot trails. We need both.

Back by noon or so and picked away at flinging throughout the afternoon. Quit reading if you haven’t already because my life is truthfully REALLY boring and from here on, we are swimming with my back yard shark… We’ve been using Mouse’s old bedroom as a dumping ground for The Comm’s stuff and I could NOT find my way forward with all of the stuff that was in there after my last trip to The Moomincabin garage. Yesterday, I moved “everything” out of that bedroom. When I say “everything”, I mean enough stuff that I could send Roooooomba in there to do her work. After I did that, I was somehow able to sort more stuff. We took three boxes of stuff to Kiwanis this weekend. I now have three more boxes for the next time we can get there. I had to clear the room to get clarity.

None of this stuff is fun, by the way. Five years ago, I would nonchalantly drive up to the yooperland and get there in time for lunch at Karl’s or Kenny’s Pitchen or wherever with my mom, Radical Betty, Cam, and Barb. Barb is the only one of those wonderful women left. They were my village. I think my cousins (on both sides) and I are paying that village forward into the future. We’re trying anyway. It isn’t always easy…

Welcome back to Eastern Standard Time and love y’all,
Kayak Woman

I really don’t have anything much more to say about today. I mean, I walk by this bush every blasted day but I don’t ever see what color it is because it is black as the ace of spades when I walk by it. I talked to one of my MacMu cousins on facebook today and I don’t think she has ever visited the moominbeach and maybe didn’t even know about it. We’ll have to fix that! How self-centered could I have possibly been all my life that I didn’t realize that a cousin of mine has never been to the beach I grew up on? Not that her life isn’t wonderful without the dern moominbeach, because it is. Just, well, in which the five-year-old KW does a double take…

So, there was some woman standing on a crowded street corner downtown on The Planet Ann Arbor tonight yelling about voting for a 20 pound carp for 4th ward city council person. Oh yeah, I think that was meeeee… Our buddies the Porters can apparently actually vote for the dern 20 pound carp if they want to, since they are in the 4th ward. Actually you and I can too, since I think that anybody can write in whoever they want on a ballot. I came to my senses and urged them to vote for a more reasonable candidate, the one who beat the lay-zee incumbent in the August primary. I also urged them to vote for the sinking fund. After 15 years or thereabouts, I still do not understand what the damn sinking fund is but I do know that we MUST do our best to keep PUBLIC education funded and right now our state government is doing everything it can to DEFUND public education and hand it over to a bunch of untested charter school shysters. That’s the short version anyway…

Not 10 minutes before that little escapade, I was waiting in line for the bathroom at the Oscar Tango. I was behind one person. We waited while the men went in and out (of the men’s room, of course, you know what I mean!). We talked a bit. She walks down here on Friday night and so do I. She was amazed that I walk from as far away as I do. She only walks a few blocks. I told her about using an outhouse when I was a kid and where my urbanP spot is on the way home (Wildwood Park). By that time, I’m sure she thought I was nuts (or at least annoying as all getout) but we had been there for a while. Whoever was in there was taking a looooonnnnnng time. I wondered if maybe that person was sick or something. And then… For some reason, I reached for the door knob and tried to twist it. Wouldn’t you know it? It was NOT locked and there was no one in there. Of course I let my friend go in first. She was there before me, after all. But sheeeesh!

And then the GG coerced me into going up to the new Literati bookstore. I bet he is sorry he did that since I (of course) bought some books. 60 bucks worth. I saw “Cranberry Thanksgiving” and it was all over. He should know better.

We *were* gonna go up to the Group Home at Houghton Lake this weekend but we bagged it due to weather predictions and lack of participation in fun times. Maybe next weekend we can get a few folks to head up? Yes? Chloe Belle is heading off to Green Bay or somewhere. He is getting to be too much of a damn jet-setter in my not-so-humble opinion. ‘hattans in the Lyme Lounge here in the Landfill Driveway this weekend? Let us know!!!

Love y’all and sayonara,
Kayak Woman