Archive for February, 2017

Jamet Street

Tuesday, February 28th, 2017

This is the last exit on the northbound I75 SUV Speedway before the Mackinac Bridge. I have been entranced by this sign ever since I can remember. I’m not sure who/what Jamet Street was named after but every time I saw the sign, I thought about my childhood friend Janet. She and Helen were sorta my first friends. I am facebook friends with Helen but not sure where Janet is these days. But Jamet and Janet were spelled almost the same and my young phonics/spelling-ruled brain always noticed it.

As I was thinking about this today, in my house and not just passing by the sign, I realized that I did not see this sign my whole life. Because until I was three, we had to take a ferry to get back and forth across the Straits of Mackinac. There was no I75 SUV Speedway and we probably took US27/23 up through Cheboygan. I’m sure Jamet Street existed but it didn’t rate a great big exit sign and I’m not even sure we traversed it to get to the northward ferry.

I have two very vivid memories from that era (before the age of three, therefore before bridge). 1) When I was really young, we visited an aunt, uncle, and cousin(s?) (was Terri born yet?) at Houghton Lake and I can remember a mileage sign somewhere north of there – 100 miles to the straits. (Actually, I have a vague memory of being at Houghton Lake and I’m probably remembering the sign that was still there when I was a young adult and The Commander probably told me about how my WWII pilot dad would drive like crazy to go 100 miles in an hour…) (He was an expert driver but not sure how true that was with a baby (me) in the car but…) 2) I was on the ferry walking on the deck with my dad, with my hands in my pockets just like him. And then a long drive down two-lane highways to Grandaddy and Bolette’s beautiful art deco house in Detroit, having good times shopping in the Big City and hanging out with my beloved Mac cousins.

What I can’t remember is whether the I75 SUV Speedway was built in the area of the Mackinac Bridge when the bridge was built. My memory is blanking on this big-time although I suppose I could easily google it. How did we approach the Mackinac Bridge before I75 or was I75 built in the area when the bridge was built? I don’t actually think it was but I could be wrong.

Nowadays, we have a beloved young family member named Janet and the GG *always* wants a photo of Jamet street to text or post somewhere. Neither the GG or Pengo were around back when I was a kid and first noticed the sign. The GG was alive and living in Royal Joke with the cFam. Pengo was not born for many years after that.

Facebook annoyances of the weekend

Monday, February 27th, 2017

I’ll start with the benign one. One of my more, hmm, shall we say “melodramatic” “friends”, (i.e., someone I have not seen since high school) posted a picture of a man I didn’t recognize along with a name I didn’t recognize and did some cryptic caterwauling about how it was too soon, in other words, he died. No explanation. No link. No nothing.

Here I was, peering at the pic and racking my brain trying to figure out who it was. Was he from my high school? He didn’t look familiar and the name was definitely not familiar. Turned out it was an actor named Bill Paxton. I. did. not. know. who. he. was. I know. I live under a rock, albeit an “amethyst” rock. I don’t know actors. Oh, I know Marilyn Monroe and Dash Riprock, etc., the ones who are more or less household names. Mr. Paxton? No clue. Apparently he was a wonderful actor and I’m sorry he died and I wish his family solace. But please, if you are posting something like that, provide some context, all right?

Stop reading right now if you are not a social progressive or do not want to hear the views of one. This is about using the bathroom with transgendered people.

Another facebook friend from high school (one who I greatly love and respect) shared a meme asking folks about sharing a bathroom with a transgendered person. I don’t usually reply to anything remotely political on facebook but this one struck home because I do that very thing all the time. I have a co-worker who used to be a man. I do not know her history because it is not discussed at work – as it shouldn’t be! This is a very valued employee, a talented and gracious person. A major asset to our team. And, incidentally, when I broke my dern pinky last year, she was one of the folks who made me feel better about it by talking about the *multiple* fingers she has broken in her life and *caring* about my stupid little accident. I do not know what kind of hell this woman went through to sort herself out (she has adult children) and then transition to who she is today but she does not in any way, shape, or form creep me out.

Other people replied with various things. One person said that she didn’t think she would always even be able to tell if a person was transgendered and I agree with that. Another said that she didn’t want her grandchildren to have to deal with a predatory man disguised as a woman. What? Yes. Sure that *could* happen. But what’s different about that than any other episode of perverts in the bathroom? My co-worker would be the LAST person to harass a child! The kicker was when a male high school friend commented about how hard it was for 13-year-old males to share a *male* sports locker room with 18-year-old males. I’ll bet there were some difficult issues with that situation (sounded like there were some bullies) but I wanted to ask something like, Were any of those guys transgender?” I didn’t think so and I did not ask. I did not want it to escalate. I like and respect this male high school friend. He does a lot of good in the world and I’m sorry that we seem to disagree on this.

I do not know how to effectively argue these kinds of things. I just want for people to get along and try to understand each other despite their superficial differences. I believe that if you get to know someone different than you and learn their story, more often than not, you may actually change your opinion about “their kind” or whatever.

If you’ve made it this far, know that I didn’t really mean to get down into the dark today. The pic is from yesterday. How brown can it get? It is beautiful in its own way.

Landfill Menagerie

Sunday, February 26th, 2017

I have blahgged before about why I don’t own a whole bunch of living aminals. Pets. I love dogs. I love cats. I love aminals. I think the GG agrees with me that we really do not want to live with aminals in our house. We don’t have to worry about them getting out and harassing people and we do not have to clean up after them and we can travel whenever we want without worrying about them.

I remember that every time my brother left the moomincabin with his dog Sam, the parents (and I, if I was there) would swing into action to vacuum up the dog hair. No one was allergic! We all loved Sam! But he shed fur like dogs do and no one wanted to live with dog fur all over everything. It’s hard enough to deal with *sand* in the moomincabin. I remember sleeping in sandy sheets when I was a child. As a young teenager, I learned to wash my feet before I went to bed. I washed them in the kitchen sink, which was the only place we had running water in those days. I still wash my feet at the end of the day, sandy or not.

I love dogs and cats but I knew from early adulthood that I did not want to deal with the responsibilities of pet ownership on any kind of long term basis. We’ll talk about guinea pig and some of the others some other day.

The aminals in the pic are a small part of the Landfill Menagerie. Mousie’s shadow there indicates that Mr. Golden Sun was out in full force today and he is heading north. We did not do anything much except read today. River ride in the late afternoon. It was all okay. I needed a slow day like today.

Not enamored of today’s weather

Saturday, February 25th, 2017

It’s February and this is Michigan and I’m not sure why I am so p*ssed off at Mother Nature and Old Man Winter today. It wasn’t really all that cold today. It started out somewhere above freezing but last I looked, we were down to 25. Old Man Winter spat little snowballs at us all day but not enough to stick anywhere, so no icy roads or sidewalks or whatever. At least not here. Ask someone in the yooperland or the northern lower and you will probably get a different answer. But it was a penetrating cold and there was a dad-blasted wind and when we walked downtown for lunch today, I felt like I was being blown away crossing a couple of streets where the Planet Ann Arbor has (against all good advice) allowed big 14-story buildings to be built. Wind tunnel anyone? Jeebus!

As much as we love Saturday lunch at the Griz, we mixed it up today and went to the Blue Tractor instead. I have been to the Blue Tractor a few times now and today is the first time I noticed the actual Blue Tractor. I think the GG and his sibs had that tractor when they were kids but it was red and there was something about spark plugs that I didn’t understand.

Anyway, I was not enamored of the weather and I am also trying to figure out how to ride the bus, so we took the bus home. Er, actually we took the bus to the Plum Market and did a wee bit of grokkery shopping, then walked home from there.

I did walk down to the farmers market this morning. I was ecstatic that the Goetz Farm was there with their “spicy mix” lettuce. I bought two bags of that and some teensy radishes and scallions. This vendor has a farm south of here in Riga, a beautiful little burg that we visited a few weeks ago on a Sunday road trip down into Ohio.

Fake log in the faaarplace tonight is making me feel a little bit warmer.

Five years

Friday, February 24th, 2017

It was five years ago today that I got the news that The Commander had entered a new dimension. It was a Friday, like today. I was not with her and I will forever feel guilty about that. I had spent over a month with her up in Sault Ste. Siberia. We got her settled into hospice care at the assisted living facility she never totally adjusted to (failure to thrive was her hospice diagnosis, basically, she was refusing food and meds and asking demanding to die).

Of course, once she got settled in with hospice and started feeling a bit better, she rallied a bit. I made the excruciatingly difficult choice to return to my home and job on The Planet Ann Arbor. At the time, I had no clue how long she would live. I felt like I was trapped in the Groundhog Day movie.

I will never forget the day I drove down. The temperatures were summer-like (like they were today) and I walked over to the Plum Market for some groceries and I cried the whole darn time I was in there. To this day, I do not know why, exactly, just one of those mixed-up emotional things. I have not cried at the Plum Market since that day but I am teary-eyed now as I write this. Oh, it’s okay.

I did not see The Commander again before she died. The GG went up the next weekend and got into a little mix-up with a deer on the way home (at mile marker 206) and the Frog Hopper was in the body shop for a few days and then it was all over. I was working from home that day. I can’t remember why but I think it was snowing. The GG was taking a nap and I kind of stared him awake with the news.

We didn’t drive up that day. The weather was terrible and what would be the point? So we walked down for dinner at the Oscar Tango and saddled up for the journey the next morning.

Five years later, we have had a spiky kind of winter with a February spate of summer-like temperatures. A huge thunderstorm rolled through town today. The GG and Chicks (our OT server) both happened to be taking naps during the storm. I was at work and all I can say is that the storm disrupted work for about an hour. The Tall Boss finally told all of us to go home early and The Benevolent Despot skedaddled pretty much around the same time.

I’m sure The Comm cannot order our weather from over there on the other side but I like to fantasize that she hurled a few lightning bolts at me today! Love you Moom. Five years.

I ain’t no boy scout and I ain’t gonna dress like one

Thursday, February 23rd, 2017

I got home today to a barrage of questions. You have that red plaid skirt, right? [Actually I have two.] And that red plaid jacket. [The one I was wearing today.] And you can sew, right? [Affirmative although I am on a BIGTIME hiatus.] So you can sew a North Country Trail patch onto your red plaid skirt(s)/jacket?

What the heck? Well, we are gearing up for one of my fave events, the Quiet Water(s?) Symposium, which happens next weekend over at the MooU Pavilion. And the GG seems to be thinking I need to dress up like a poster girl for the Red Plaid Nation. NOT SO FAST! I am not what you would call a Fashion Plate but I do have my standards.

1) I *will* be wearing *one* of my red plaid skirts. It’ll be the biz-caz one that is tailored and lined.

2) Everything else I will be wearing will be black. Except for my red shoes.

3) I will *not* be sewing any kind of patch onto my red plaid skirt or any other article of clothing, even temporarily.

4) I will *not* be wearing my red plaid jacket with my red plaid skirt. Why? Well, duh, because the plaids are totally different. Corollary: I would *never* buy a matching red plaid skirt and jacket. I wear my red plaid articles of clothing one at a time with black basics. Black is my best friend.

5) I will *never* wear a Stormy Kromer hat but that wasn’t one of the questions.

I am not the most extroverted “booth babe” you’ve ever encountered. I don’t stand there and stick my face out and say, “Hi, would you like to know about the North Country Trail?” But I love the trail and the friends I have made since we’ve been involved with it and I love to talk to the people who stop at our table if/when they have questions. So, if you want to come and visit us at the QWS, I’ll be the gal in black with the red plaid skirt.

All aboooooard!

Wednesday, February 22nd, 2017

I keep overhearing people ask W1.5 what he’s going to do when he retires, which is next week. I know that it’s a fair question but I feel for him because, as he keeps saying, he doesn’t have a specific plan. I know about this, at least vicariously, through the GG’s “retirement”, which has been going on for about 10 months now.

Today I suggested an activity that W1.5 could do in his retirement. My tongue was firmly in cheek because I *know* W1.5 is not going to do this thing. So… First, you drive down to the train station (Amtrak goes through here). You take the train over to Battle Creek (look it up on Google). You walk from Battle Creek to Augusta. (I’m kind of afraid to ask how many miles that is.) You eat lunch somewhere and you walk back to Battle Creek. You take the train back to the Planet Ann Arbor. (Hopefully you won’t fall asleep on the train and miss your stop.) No, W1.5 will not be doing that. We both knew that. And we gnoffed about it.

When my old coot retired back in about 1980, The Commander was still working (as a high school teacher), and I remember her telling me that he was walking at least 10 miles a day. He had a buddy to walk/ski with in those days. Alas, that man died way earlier than my old coot did. I have not “married my dad” but I seem to have married a guy who likes to hike and drive around on the back roads just about anywhere. Like my dad did. So there are some similarities.

And so this morning, this vee-hickle was parked in a weird way outside my house. I wasn’t sure what was going on at first. I took my walk and the vee-hickle was still there and then I noticed that the taaaaars were kinda backed up against the curb. I think this vee-hickle rolled during the night.

And so now I am kinda wanting to take a train trip. But where? Maybe Chicago. We’ll see…

Followups and a cautionary tale

Tuesday, February 21st, 2017

This is an “old” pic (8 days ago) that I just needed to post (plus I didn’t have any good pics from today). We were in the Yooperland on M123 between M28 (Eckerman) and Trout Lake heading back down south after a weekend at Tahquamenon.

So followups? Yes, that is an “I’m with her” thingy on my fridge the other day. I *was* with her, meaning Hillary. Was she the best choice for democratic candidate? Maybe not. Did I vote for her because she was a woman? No I did not! I am *not* wallowing in the loss of my preferred candidate although I continue to be horrified by our elected president (again, if you voted for him, I love you anyway, I just don’t understand). Instead, I have broadened the meaning of “her” to include entities like Lady Liberty and Mother Nature and The Commander and Radical Betty and every other badass woman I have ever known, in person or from afar, real or symbolic.

A cautionary tale? First, a disclaimer. I *love* to communicate with people via text or facebook direct message. That means people that I know, like friends and family members asking if I’m on for Thursday coffee or giving me news about what’s going on in the Great White North or wherever. Occasionally, when I make a new facebook friend, we may have a short convo about how/what we’re doing now. That’s okay too.

I had a weird experience last fall when a facebook friend I knew billions of years ago direct messaged me via facebook with a message that disturbed me a bit. I won’t say who it was or what the message said (you wouldn’t know the person anyway). Just that I was sitting in the Grizzly Peak on a beautiful Saturday afternoon having lunch and beer/whine with my husband of more years than I am strong enough to count and then… I got a facebook message from this person. It was benign so I replied to it with something benign. And then I got another one. It wasn’t quite NSFW but it wasn’t appropriate. I. Did. Not. Reply. To. It.

I have not unfriended or even “blocked” this person in any way. I don’t do that kind of thing. It reminds me of junior high behavior. I just don’t engage with the person any more. In the last couple weeks, I have received two *more* direct messages from this person. Both of them are links to the same cute aminal video. I do not watch cute aminal videos. I did not watch this one. I did not respond to those messages. I can’t figure out if the person even knows that they have sent me the video. Did the person unknowingly send the cute aminal video to every single facebook contact or was it just to me? And why did I receive it twice? I do not know.

The thing is that I suddenly realized that I have absolutely no obligation to answer a random facebook message from someone I haven’t seen in 40 years and don’t know very well. Friends and family? Message me any time you want!

P.S. For reasons that won’t disclose, I am NOT afraid of this person. The person poses no threat to me in any way shape or form. It is someone who seems lonely (and maybe ill) and does not know how to appropriately reach out to people. Better to reach out to family or friends than a person from 40 years ago that you never had a relationship with in the first place me.

Watching garlic toasts like a HAWK so I don’t CHAR the HECK out of them like I did last night. Sheesh.

Monday, February 20th, 2017

So we had a couple of very warm sunny days over the weekend and here is a fort in the woods. I would like to think that children made this little fort but not sure if was kids or parents or kids and parents or what. It doesn’t matter. I just love to see it.

When I was a young hooligan spending my summers on the moominbeach, one of the things us kids did was make forts in the woods. Also on the beach. The forts we built on the beach were made in a kind of log cabin style out of pulp logs that got loose from the big paper mill log booms upstream from us and washed up on our beach. Forts weren’t the only thing that got built on the beach. Throughout my childhood, The Comm and Radical Betty and Bubs and whoever built tables and things out of pulp logs and driftwood. Places to eat lunch or serve cocktails or where my dog Tigger could get a wee bit of shade on a hot day when she was older.

And then there were the little nooks and crannies we made forts out of in the woods surrounding our cabins. The old stack of logs outside the Old Cabin that we would play “train” on and once sat there for most of an afternoon waiting for my new puppy Tigger to arrive. The puppy I was terrified of until I saw her asleep. She cured my fear of dogs forever.

And there was the cluster of cedar trees down by the pond, and the triangle of old dead trees in front of my parents’ cabin and the old dog run behind the Mullin cabin, where Doc Read used to let his dogs run back when my old coot was young. And more but I can’t remember them all. I’m sure there are still good fort building spots in the woods but they aren’t the same ones we once had.

Lazy Sunday

Sunday, February 19th, 2017

After my walk and a simple moomincabin-style KW & GG brek, I was sitting in my usual spot on the green couch and I looked at the sky and WOW!

A little while later, npJane texted me to say that the cloud patterns reminded her of the sand ridges under the water at the moominbeach. Yes.

Yesterday was a pretty huge work day for me even though it was only routine chores. Today I just couldn’t get it going. We took an hour’s drive out along the river and into the county and I did a couple of runs for provisions of various sorts and then I just kind of hung out until Lizard Breath came over. And then we still hung out, soaking up as much sun as we could possibly handle, knowing that Old Man Winter is nowhere near finished with us yet.

We celebrated the sun with a wee ‘hattan and here is yer fav-o-rite blahgger reaching into her fridge for some ice, etc.

I’m wearing my preferred after-work-down-home outfit. Tie-dyed t-shirt, polar-tech vest, and long tiered skirt. You can’t see my smartwool socks and you’ll have to guess whether/what I’m wearing under that stuff

I hope it’s okay if I am lazy sometimes. I sure was today. I think I needed it.

Love, KW

And the skies were not cloudy all day

Saturday, February 18th, 2017

I got this photo when I began my walk down to the farmers market this morning. The farmers market doesn’t open until 8 AM in the winter months so I was walking down as the sun was coming up.

After *many* chores this morning, we walked down to the Griz and it was something like 65 degrees when we walked through West Park (in FEBRUARY!!!) so there was still ice on the pond but I bet it won’t be there tomorrow.

At the end of the day, I sat outside on the sunny side of the house and watched the sun go down. The setting sun was so brilliant, I had to dredge out my summer beach hat to be able to sit out there and read.

I finished a book tonight. I’m kind of sporadically getting back into reading. I was reading The Time Traveler’s Wife last weekend and I could not put it down. I loved that book. I can’t exactly say why. I loved the characters and it was just weird enough overall to appeal to my wild sci-fi side. I finished that book earlier this week. The book I finished tonight was Olive Kitteridge. Oh man. I hated just about every single character in the book. I *got* that it was basically a series of short stories with Olive as a major or minor character. I did not like her. I did not like most of the other characters. I still could not put the book down. And then, when I got to page 634 (on my iPhone), I totally changed my mind. At least about Olive. I did not like her all that much better but, well, I dunno. I guess I’m still thinking about it… Which means it was probably a good book (it did win a Pulitzer…)

Yes, that artifact is a diaper

Friday, February 17th, 2017

It belongs to our newest great-niece, who joined us at the Oscar Tango tonight along with her moom and grandparents, aka The Uncly Uncle and The Beautiful Gay. I cannot count (at the moment, anyway) how many great-nieces and nephews we have nowadays throughout all of the branches of the Cfam. There are five in this branch.

Anyway, this newest little gal (a little over 4 months) had a very long day beginning with an airplane ride and then a visit with a small cousin here on the Planet Ann Arbor and she was pretty darn dead taaaaarrred by the time her folks dragged her over to the Oscar Tango to meet up with us and our friends of porterization. And she needed a diaper change, which happened very discretely in grandma’s lap. I stayed back a bit, both because I do not ever try to force myself upon aminals or small children, better to let them come to me, but also because I have been fighting light cold symptoms all day and did not want to pass them on.

Home via our own personal uber of porterization. We had planned to walk but with all the extra fun, it was a wee bit later than usual when we left the OT. Farmer’s market in the morning for lettuce and other winter veggies and a couple bags of badass woman coffee, something like that anyway.

G’night! KW! (Typos be damned!)

Who have you misled anyone lately?

Thursday, February 16th, 2017

Lemme see… misle, misled, have/has misled and we’ll throw in the “ing” version just for good measure. Misling. Boy oh boy has it been a long time since I have conjugated a verb. I am channeling Mrs. Loye and Mrs. Pratt big-time right now, including a bra/hanky incident that I was told about by my generation’s version of “my posse don’t do homework” boyz but prob’ly isn’t true.

But wait! What word are we talking about here? Let’s start with the past tense. In this alternative language, the first syllable is “mi”. It is accented and the “i” is the long version of the vowel. The second syllable is “zeld”. The e is actually a schwa (remember those?) and I thought there would be an ASCII version of that character but some quick searching didn’t turn one up. So, clear as mud? In this alternative language, “misled” is the past tense of “misle” (and if you learned phonics like I did with Miss Cox and Mrs. Bishop, you would know that *usually* means a long i sound and a z sound to the s).

Back in the Jurassic Age, The Commander was reading a news article out loud to Grandroobly. Why I do not know because he could certainly read. It was about polly-tishuns though and the word “misled” was used a bunch of times and every time The Comm read “misled” out loud she pronounced it with a long i and a z and a schwa. Like the past tense of “misle” would probably be pronounced if “misle” were a real word.

Somehow or other they both understood the article even with the mispronounced word. Eventually they discovered their error but, being my parents, instead of being embarrassed about it, they went on to invent a whole new conjugation for the non-existent word “misle”, and we were all misling each other left and right for a while there, laughing uproariously every time.

So. Almost every article I read about Mike Flynn’s “resignation” and his “misling” of Vice President Pence on Tuesday (was it Tuesday?) contained multiple instances of the word “misled”. You might guess how I heard the pronunciation of that word in my head every time I read it. I guess if we can have alternative facts, we can also have alternative words. Anyway, these moments are the times that I miss my folks and we’ll talk about the “droven ins” some other day 🐸

Tahq is the new Mouse

Wednesday, February 15th, 2017

When I say Mouse, I mean Disney World of course. I have been to Disney World ONCE! I know what that is like. I doubt that Tahquamenon Falls will ever get to that point but boy oh boy the place has been hopping the last few years. Our lovely DNR friends scheduled a lantern-lit snowshoe hike last Saturday night and the place was so packed that people were parking out on the M123 highway. Our DNR friends outfitted uncountable numbers of people with snowshoes including an extended family from Malaysia (overheard from one DNR gal to another: “I just put child-size snowshoes on the grandma.” I saw mini-gram heading out and yes, she was child-sized. Who knows what her history is…). Everyone seemed to be having a good time but our friends were exhausted when they stopped by our (DNR) rental lodge later on after it was all over. We had fun with them but we could tell that they needed more help to handle the numbers of people that showed up. Of course, the temperatures were in the upper 20s. Two years ago they were 20 below zero.

I am very happy to see people from all over the world head up to Tahq. I hope that the area infrastructure can handle the influx. Lantern light snowshoe trail notwithstanding, there are far more snowmobilers up in the Tahq/Paradise area than snowshoers and they are probably (still) the folks that create the most winter tourism. So here are some snowmobile pics.

We are driving up on M123 here and snowmobiles are on the side of the road.

This is nowhere anywhere near as scary as it looks. Everyone is going slow and being careful.

We stopped to get gas, etc., and almost every other vee-hickle in the lot was a snowmobile. I have to say that the store attached to this gas station has a fantastic inventory where you can get things like little knit glubs in September if you need them.

And here we are at the Upper Falls, where umpteen bazillion people have parked their snowmobiles to get lunch at the brewery.

Up in the land of the ice and snow with the snow cobras

Tuesday, February 14th, 2017

I won’t go on with the old Led Zep song because we don’t [quiiiiite] have the midnight sun at our latitude and there are definitely no hot springs in the yooperland that I know of. Most winters there is snow, snow, and more snow. This winter was a wee bit slow on the snow for quite a long time but the eastern yooperland has been getting dumped on in recent weeks so here are a handful of lightly-captioned (or not) pics from our trip to Tahquamenon last weekend.

That was the GG underneath an elegant arch and next up is what a fellow NCT friend calls “snow cobras” if I’m remembering accurately.

We were hiking at the Upper Falls in the last two pics. In the next, we are hiking down to the Lower Falls.

And there is the Lower Falls, big as life. What you can see of it with that big snow thing in the way there on the right. We were talking to another couple at that point. They were stopping for a whine break and I asked the GG where our little snort was. Alas, it was back at the car or the lodge or wherever. I interrupted the usual talk about how [some of] my ancestors were Canadian. Please let me divulge information about meeeeee as I see fit.

Here is an accidental pic of one of my snowshoes. That pink blur is *not* a skirt. It is my ski jacket. It wasn’t very cold that day (28?) but my friend Joan talked me into wearing a “shell” in case I got wet via snow (or rain like the mess that was going on south of the Big Mac around that time). I was wearing black leggings over tights with smart wool socks.

A quick shot of the lodge we stayed at with our NCT friends. It was originally built for a DNR person to inhabit with a family but nowadays they rent it out. It is very well equipped and clean. The pic is from my vantage point on the couch, which is my preferred spot to sleep. If you know Froggy, you might see him on the right there. He made a new friend over the weekend!

The last pic is the big snowbank next to the Frog Hopper in Paradise yesterday morning. We cleaned and closed up the lodge and met for breakfast at the Berry Patch before we all headed home, most to various places in the eastern yooperland or northern lower, us to Southeast Trollandia.

P.S. Have you misled anyone lately? This is a joke of sorts and isn’t directed toward anything going on with current 2017 polly-ticks except for a bit of deja vu. Just lemme know if you get the joke 🐸. (Hint: You would have to know my parents at a certain era to get this.)

Sunrise to sunrise, the five stages of grief, and Zen Lasagna

Monday, February 13th, 2017

Dawn, Friday morning, 7:30 AM or so. M14 north of the Planet Ann Arbor, Barton Drive exit coming up but we hung a louie and went north.

Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning? Two hours after I took this pic we were just north of Bay City and snow started swirling on the freeway in front of us. Right around that time, I was gripped by a feeling of dread and it was not (totally) about the snow driving I knew was only going to get worse. With much trepidation, I asked the driver, “Did you pack the lasagna?” A moment of Dead Silence from the driver’s seat, then, “No.”

Oh dear. We were on the docket to provide dinner for our North Country Trail friends at the Tahquamenon Falls DNR lodge on Sunday night. I had painstakingly put together two supreme lasagnas last weekend, one veggie, one not so much. I assembled them into tin foil pans and the GG eased them into our freezer, which is just a weeeee bit narrower than the pans. As I was puttering around packing that morning, I kept thinking I needed to get those things out of the freezer and put them by the door so we didn’t forget them. Guess what? I didn’t. Guess what? We forgot them.

I don’t know who felt worse. The GG had been thinking of packing them into the Frog Hopper the night before. It was plenty cold enough to let them sit there overnight. We went through the proverbial five (?) stages of grief in about 30 seconds. The GG thought (for a split second) that we could GO BACK AND GET THEM!!!! (NOOOOOOO!). Or maybe “somebody” would be driving north and Mouse could help that person get them out of the Landfill. North to Tahquamenon from the Planet Ann Arbor? Who? Huh? At the end of the 30 seconds of grief stages, we had both reached the final stage (acceptance, right?) and he voiced what I was thinking, “We could, uh, buy some new ingredients and you could, uh, make more when we get up there…” I already had a grocery list going inside my head, so I put it on my phone… 🐸

So that is what we did, more or less. Our buddies laughed the lasagna fiasco off, telling us about all the times they have forgotten important things. There was a lot of food there and we weren’t sure for a while if we would even need a lasagna, let alone two. In the end, I made *one*. I decided to spend Sunday morning at the lodge while the Twinz of Terror led others on a death march. I spent some quality time with a few others who opted to stay home for the morning snowshoe expotition and I greatly enjoyed puttering around in the well-equipped lodge kitchen making lasagna. I figured if we didn’t eat it for dinner, I would freeze it and take it home and hopefully somebody besides the GG and I would check the freezer for forgotten items before we closed the lodge up in the morning so we didn’t FORGET IT! Zen Times. (The GG and I did go out in the afternoon and it was gorgeous and I’ll share the few pics I took later in the week.)

In the end, we did bake my Zen Lasagna and we ate ALL of it except for a wee squidgy bit that I schlepped home in a ziplock bag.

Sunrise, this morning, around 8:00 AM, driving east toward Paradise (and cell service) on M123. Breakfast with our NCT buddies at the Berry Patch, then southward bound.

Lasagna party on The Planet Ann Arbor sometime soon? I have two!

No shirt, no shoes, no service

Saturday, February 11th, 2017

The no service part is true. At Tahq, all is well, can’t upload pics from phone for the moment. <3

Living in a material world

Thursday, February 9th, 2017

Sorry, I know I am not very good at writing about polly-ticks. I am not a very political person. I am a humble person who would prefer to spend my meek little life working and not having to think about people grabbing power and doing things that I don’t agree with.

I also realize that anyone who runs for any office greater than school board member (or dog-catcher) probably has an ego that my meek little personality could never match. Although there are folks who have been known to run for school board as a first stepping stone toward a higher office.

In my world, which is really not a material world, occasional Green Couch Retail Therapy notwithstanding (hope that word is used somewhere near correctly), I wish for some things from my elected officials. I wish for them to be honest. I do not like people who lie, even if it is for what they think is “the greater good”, whatever that may be. I wish for them to try to represent all of their constituents even when they disagree with them. I wish for them not to be mean to people that are *different* for whatever reason. And I wish for them to use Common Sense… … …

On a more positive note, our fave Clyde’s Drive-in in Sault Ste. Siberia is open for the weekend. I have been going to Clyde’s since I was a little kid and I can remember going there with my grandma (hamburg with everything but). Clyde’s has always closed in October and opened in the “spring”. The last couple of years, Clyde’s has done a pre-season February weekend opening and they are doing that this weekend (there is a wonderful video on Facebook). One of the things I love about the Clyde’s February opening is that they do *not* do it on the weekend of the I-500 Snowmobile race. Why not? Because they do not want to take business away from other restaurants in town who count on income from the race. The people who run Clyde’s are wonderful. They care about their customers as well as other business owners in town. I love them!

@NewYorker What “comforting myths”? (I’ll understand if you don’t read this rant)

Wednesday, February 8th, 2017

Naw, it’s not gonna get better. Unless We the People continue to push back against… Against what exactly? Nuttiness is about the only word I can come up with. Scary nuttiness. I’m sorry. I didn’t vote for him. I was “with her”, imperfect person that she is. I am an imperfect person too.

Oh c’mon, I accepted the election results the moment I woke up after that debacle and decided the best thing I could do for our beautiful country was to take my walk and do my chores and roll over to my job. The “her” that I am with now is Lady Liberty. Mr. Trump is not gonna bring coal-mining jobs back and he’s not gonna bring old-skool manufacturing plants back and he will not solve anyone’s opioid drug problem. That’s just to name a few campaign promises tweets.

Coal-mining and old-skool manufacturing have been on the outs since the late 1970s. We have to move on from all of that. This is a paradigm shift. Our country (and world) have made those before. When my grandfather was a very young man, he walked all over Sault Ste. Siberia. I think there might’ve been a streetcar then??? But he did not own an automotive vee-hickle for quite some time, until they were for sale to the general public. As kids, we rode in his Studebakers and the Ford Fairlane that my family ended up with after my grandmother got in the accident that ended her driving career. As karma would have it, my one and only accident was driving that car and it happened in approximately the same location as Grandma’s did. But he did make the paradigm shift and bought an automobile!

I’m losing my train of thought a bit but we are going through some paradigm shifts these days. I think we went through the job shift quite a while back although it seems to be ongoing. I think the press shift began later but we are at somewhat of a crisis point for that.

I dunno. My random thoughts about how to move forward in these times of change are that 1) education is key to finding a well-paying job and an open mind is always helpful. 2) employers *must* step up and *pay* people for a job well done (like enough money that they can buy health insurance) 3) We have got to figure out how to transition low-education people struggling with whatever various problems they have into new jobs that pay well enough that they can be productive tax-paying citizens. I do not know how to do that. I’m sorry but I can’t figure that Trump ever thinks about any person besides himself. Except maybe Ivanka.

Drain the swamp, please!

Tuesday, February 7th, 2017

I mean my own personal swamp, the one that is currently behind The Landfill, not anyone in the government and not the folks at my job. Because jeebus, another long-time *beloved* colleague is retiring and boy oh boy, does he deserve retirement but I will MISS HIM! I was not at Cubelandia when the scuttlebutt hit my street so when W1.5 came over to tell me that I was being added as a butters representative, I thought something like, “Okay, fine.” Then he started talking about transferring his membership and I was like, “Aren’t you staying on butters?” Well, no. He is leaving. I didn’t scream “NOOOOoooooo!” like I did when the Queen Bee told me she was retiring but the sentiment was the same. And then I yelled over the wall to FZ that he better not be entertaining any similar notions even though I know he is although I don’t think he has any imminent plans.

I’ll save any further thoughts of W1.5 until his retirement actually happens, which will be approximately a few weeks from now. Sometimes I can’t believe I have been at that place for going on 10 years now. I took this job as a student intern and as my internship was ending, I was astounded (or maybe not…) that they offered me a full time job. W1.5 has worked there MANY years longer than I have. I am not ready to retaaaar yet even though I live with The Pensioner and sometimes it *kills* me that he can go traveling around and I can’t because I have to work. I will say that if the Benevolent Despot retires, I will be outta there but I doubt he will, at least before I do, given that he is not really anywhere near close to retaaaaarment age. College kids, etc.

So, drain the swamp? I knew the little trail in the little woods behind my house would be fuuuuugly this afternoon, after a day of warm temps and heavy rain. When I got to this part of the loop, I had to turn around. Ain’t no way I was gonna get through that without getting wet up to my ankles. A good thing? No erderators alligators in there. And it isn’t warm enough for moe-skee-toes.