It's A New Day

Make New Friends, But Keep The Old

The words to this little song learned as a Brownie scout have "played" in my head over and over today...a fitting reminder of the old friendships being celebrated by the five of us pictured above. And perhaps more so because those friendships extend back to our days as Brownies.

It's been four years since all five of us were last together but we didn't miss a beat. The conversation flowed as if it had been only last week. That's the way it is with good friends. We caught up on one another's families, heard news of old classmates and reminisced about all sorts of things from our past. The two Connies (seated and standing on the far right) still live in the area, but the two Lindas arranged visits to coincide with mine. And our time together went by much too quickly.

We have such history together. Where we stood up for one another at weddings years ago, we find ourselves now sitting together at the funerals of our parents. And the days of sharing advice on child-rearing have been replaced with opportunities to share photos of grandchildren. They are amazing women...each with her own story of strength and resilience.

One is silver and the other gold.

Having one friendship that endures for half a century is a blessing; having four of them is a treasure, indeed.

You Can Go Home Again But...

It's been more years than I care to admit since Wayne or I have lived in El Dorado, but when we talk about coming here, we both still refer to it as "home." I suppose since we grew up in this community, we will always think of it in those terms. And while neither of us expected the town to stay just as it was when we left, sometimes the changes that have occurred in our absence reach out and demand our attention.

The old swinging bridge and even the lake itself are gone...submerged under a newer, larger body of water that saves Riverside from the spring floods. Landmarks like those are monumental in your memory, but another landmark, the county courthouse, still proudly stands near the center of town.

The favorite pastime on Friday and Saturday nights was dragging Central. Teenagers cruised the main drag, a 2-mile stretch that looped through the Sonic drive-in on one end and usually the A&W drive-in on the other. It was the place to see and be seen. The A&W is long gone now, and the Sonic is in a new location. Putting a dollar's worth of gas in old Bessie wouldn't get you very far this Friday night, but Central is still the main thoroughfare.

The other cool place to be on Friday and Saturday night was the local youth center known as "The Cage." Looking back on it now, times were so much simpler then. Pat Harrell ran a tight ship, and he threw out the rowdy boys who showed up after drinking beer or the tough girls who would sneak out to smoke cigarettes...and when that happened, it was scandalous. There's still a tight ship being run in that building; it's home to the local Police Department. Perhaps that's a fitting metamorphosis.

El Dorado High School was alma mater to both our families. Wayne's Mom and Dad and my mother and father were all in the same high school graduating class, and all of us walked the same hallways. The building still stands but now serves as the local middle school.

This is a refinery town, a product of plentiful underground oil supplies in days gone by. The refinery where my dad worked closed long ago, but the one that employed Wayne's grandfather is still producing gasoline, although it has changed owners numerous times. We don't have to drive to that end of town to know that...we can hear the whistle blow at noon and smell the refinery when the wind is from the south like it has been this trip.

The buildings downtown haven't changed much, but the businesses in them have. It's hard for a small town to have a vibrant core when so many people work in Wichita and find shopping there more attractive. The marque for the old movie theater seems to hold on to its glamorous image, even though its days as a theater ended some time ago.

Gone are the neighborhood grocery stores we rode our bikes to, redeeming a few empty pop bottles and spending the money on penny candy. Just as well...someone else lives in the houses we called home.

It would be easy to bemoan all these changes...to believe life was better somehow simply because that's they way it was when we grew up here. But neither of us do. Life goes on, and the bits and pieces of this community as it exists today are what the young people growing up here now will remember with great fondness. You can go home again, but you can't expect it not to change. It's the same but different...and that's OK.  

68 Degrees and Salty

No, it's not some weird weather forecast...rather it's a description of the day's activity. We took Wayne's folks with us to Hutchinson for a tour of the Kansas Underground Salt Museum.

We all knew of the salt mining operations in Hutchinson for years. And Wayne had even been down in them many years ago. Some of the "rooms" left behind in the mining operations have been converted to a secure underground storage area. The constant temperature and humidity make for the perfect conditions for all kinds of things, including seeds for wheat, corn and other plants as insurance against disease or disaster affecting the nation's food source. The medical clinic where Wayne worked had stored records there, and he was able to tour that space. But until recently there was little opportunity for the public to view what was down there.

From the visitor's center where we got some stylin' hard hats and safety gear, it was just one floor down to the mine level. But that one floor was 650' down. And the ride was pitch-black...no lights at all in the elevator. A unique experience indeed; not one for the claustrophobic or those afraid of the dark. And although the photos aren't terrific due to the poor lighting, I'll share them anyway.

A tram took us through large room-like areas which were mined years ago. You can get a sense of the length of this corridor in the background of the photo, and it was just one of many. A regular intervals are 40'x40' pillars that support the ceiling and helps form the rooms. And it's all salt. None of us knew there is this huge vein of salt that basically runs from Missouri down into New Mexico so Kansas is right in the middle.

At one point on the tour they let us get off the tram to retrieve some salt for souvenirs. The salt in the mine is over 96% pure so the walls and ceilings really sparkle. Even the floor is formed with salt...a mixture called salt-crete. In several places, they have large boulders of pure salt illuminated from below and they are almost glass-like. That's not a camera hanging from Wayne's neck; it's an air purifier in the event there was a fire underground.

The tram took us through several corridors, stopping at various points for the guide to explain all kinds of things relating to salt mining. There were lights where we got off the elevator and at the museum exhibits a short distance from there but none in the sections we were touring in the tram. At one point, we stopped and they turned off the headlights on the tram. It was even darker than the elevator!

We departed the tram to tour some exhibits that included short videos showing how salt is mined. Adjacent to them was some of the equipment that had been used but was now replaced by more efficient machinery. They are still extracting salt from this mine but those operations are obviously some distance away. The salt from this mine is primarily used for road salt with much of it going to the Chicago area. The other two salt mines in Hutchinson use a different method of extraction and that salt becomes table salt.

The elevator ride back to the top was just as dark as going down...good thing it went quickly. Here's my tour companions in their fashionable headgear before we headed topside.

When the August sun is beating down and the thermometer is hovering in the mid-90s, 68 degrees is pretty nice. And the chance to see something different and learn a little in the process is kinda cool, too. 

A Sisterhood, Part 2

The connection scrapbookers feel to one another as a result of their hobby is an easy subject to write about. I'm part of that crazy sorority of paste-eaters and photo-fanatics so I understand it. But through scrapbooking, I've met two amazing women and learned of their work involving scrapbooking and a sisterhood of a different sort...one of which I am not part. One more difficult to discuss.

At the conclusion of one of my classes in Tulsa last year, Mary and Linda came forward to introduce themselves and talk about the charity crop they had put on the previous spring. They had raised over $5,000 for domestic violence after a member of their scrapbooking circle was killed by her husband. The plans were for a bigger and better event the following spring, and they were hopeful CK might publicize their efforts. There was no pressure on their part...they simply communicated the information and made the request, fully understanding that decision was beyond my control. And I expected that to be the end of it when I passed it along to the powers that be. But the stars must have been perfectly aligned for them. CK had a feature on charity crops in the works, and an editor contacted Mary and Linda to obtain additional information for the article.

A happy ending, it would seem...but it wasn't the end at all. It turns out Mary is the manager of Scrapbook Garden. When my brother John went there looking for a copy of EasyPatterns, it was Mary who struck up a conversation with him and helped him find it. And when I stopped in the store on our trip to Kansas last spring, it was Mary who waited on me.

Shortly after my visit, Mary and Linda held their crop. The response was overwhelming...almost more scrapbookers than they could handle. But those stars were still aligned in their favor, and everything came off without a hitch. They sent me an e-mail, proudly reporting they raised more than $15,000. In addition to cash, they also collect women's and children's clothing...another way to help victims who escape an abusive relationship with only the clothes on their back. The sisterhood is amazing and generous, indeed.

Mary and Linda are deep into plans for their third crop. They have a sponsor now to underwrite the cost of the venue and related expenses. They were in my class again in Tulsa, and we met afterwards for lunch. They shared with me all the exciting things happening in connection with this event. It's clear that not only are they able to do something good as far as their charity is concerned, but they also make the event a good time for the scrapbookers who attend.

I spent most of the day in Wichita today, working in the crop room at Scrapbook Garden. Mary was on duty, keeping the Garden humming. She told me about some of the conversations she and Linda had with vendors in Tulsa where they were seeking donations for the crop. On more than one occasion, the women with whom they spoke volunteered that they were happy to provide products because they too had been victims of domestic violence. One in three women are...a disturbing statistic. A sisterhood of its own. And through the efforts of women like Mary and Linda, one sister is helping another. One group using its focus on the memories in life to assure that the other has a life worth remembering. I hope those stars continue to shine on Mary and Linda...they're doing good work.

We're Back in Kansas Now, Toto

It was a leisurely departure from Tulsa-town this morning. We left the interstates and major highways for the return trip (we've seen them too many times before) and headed off on the back roads through farmland and small towns. Sunflowers lined the ditches...a telltale sign we're back in Kansas.

But that fact was driven home as we approached Sedan. A billboard proclaimed Sedan home to the "World's Longest Yellow Brick Road." I was intrigued. If Kansas has much claim to fame, it's probably as the home of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. I had no idea there was a yellow brick road contest, let alone that Sedan had won...after all, how many places even have such a road. So I told Wayne we needed to check out this world treasure.

You need to understand that Sedan is a town of about 1300 people so you can see everything in town in a matter of minutes. In fact, we didn't even have to get out of the car to see the city's pride and joy touted on the billboard. There, along the town's two-block-long downtown center, was this record-setting phenomenon. An ordinary concrete sidewalk with a center section of bricks. The bricks weren't even yellow...just bordered with a yellow line. Now I hadn't been expecting a road of golden bricks stretching to the horizon, but what we saw certainly didn't merit a roadside billboard. In true tourist trap fashion, the reality didn't live up to the hype.

If Dorothy had traveled Sedan's yellow brick road, her movie would have been a short subject rather than a full-length feature film. I'm thinking I need to lobby the city fathers in Towanda or Augusta to construct a brick sidewalk three blocks long, actually paint those bricks sunflower yellow, and steal that title away from Sedan. And I'd better get right on it, too...I'm sure the competition for the right to claim the title of "World's Longest Yellow Brick Road" is intense. We sure don't want the honor to go to some town in Indiana.

A Sisterhood

CKC-Tulsa is in the books now...well, for me anyway. There are still a couple hundred women in a ballroom downstairs cropping the night away, but my tiny part of the convention is over and done. And although my feet hurt from too much standing and my voice is raspy from too much talking, it was a great weekend.

This was my second year teaching in Tulsa, and one of the best parts of returning to the same venue is seeing familiar faces...people who were in the classes I taught last year and signed up for the new ones this year. We have a "history" together as well as share the love of this great hobby. Their enthusiasm is contagious, and it's one of the main reasons I enjoy teaching.

I walked through the crop this evening and visited more with some of those women as well as others who were not in the classroom with me. Their talents and skill levels varied greatly, but their excitement at having the night to play with paper and photos and to experiment with things they learned was universal. Some had planned this weekend get-away with friends since leaving the convention last year.

The new friendships, however, are what struck me the most. I stood talking with two women who were laughing and cutting up with one another as if they had known each other forever. When I commented about the joy of having time with your girlfriends, they confessed that they had met for the first time in a class on Thursday. They connected right from the start, and in three short days, they had become fast friends. And they, too, were planning on being back here together next year. How cool it is that our passion for preserving memories has fostered such a sisterhood.

One of the classes in the CK rotation this year was called "LuCKy Girl," and I always started the class by saying how lucky I was to be able to come spend the weekend with a bunch of scrapbookers. Today was the last day for that class, but I don't need that class to remind me of my good fortune. There's a whole sorority of women out there who do that for me at events like this.

I'm lucky, too, that Wayne found himself with time on his hands this afternoon and decided to spend it playing with a sunflower photo and an antique map. The result is this cool new banner...just in time for the trip to Kansas in the morning.

Have you ever been to Woolaroc?

That question is an old joke between Brenda and I and some longtime friends from the early seventies. In fact it has been so long ago I really don't remember how it came about. Woolaroc is a museum, a wildlife preserve and a working ranch located near Bartlesville, Oklahoma, about 50 miles north of Tulsa. I was there as a teenager and again with Brenda a few years later. I can remember the wildlife, and a bit about the museum, but was anxious to visit it again.

The museum was the ranch of Frank Phillips (of Phillips 66 Oil) and much of the collections is from his personal estate. Most people would be surprised to find a quality collection of this caliber located in a fairly remote place.

The drive up through the hill country was pretty and reminded me of how much rain Oklahoma has had this year. In fact most of this part has had more than the annual rainfall already with more than a third of the year still left. The gently rolling hills are covered with scrub oaks, and lots of oil wells dotting the countryside. As you turn into the preserve and pay your entrance fee you receive a CD to play as you drive through the park. The CD does a nice job of describing the history of the ranch. The only downside for a photographer is you are required to stay in your car for your own protection.

Lots of deer, elk and other animals freely roamed the park while others were in enclosures. Longhorns of all colors and sizes, many with young calves at their side, were everywhere.

Not sure what this one is, but if Brenda had been with me she would have sent him(her) to get a haircut!

Once you arrived at the museum there is a barnyard area with a petting zoo, but today the kids must have been in school. This little burro looked like he was missing the kids as he came over to check me out.

I spent the next couple of hours in the museum which is very nicely done. The collection of western art was very impressive. I really liked this work, unfortunately the name and the artist did not make the trip back to Tulsa with me.

Photography in the museum was difficult as flash was not permitted and most of the collections were in cases making hand-holding the camera difficult. I enjoyed looking at the many gun collections, with the Colt collection particularly impressive.  I couldn't resist showing this old gas pump which caught my eye.

I finished the tour of the museum looking at a mineral collection, a barbed wire display and hundreds of arrowheads, many found on or near the ranch. But it was time to move on and visit Bartlesville. I have always been a big fan of Frank Lloyd Wright, who designed many wonderful homes and buildings. In the early 50's he designed Price Tower his only "skyscraper". At 19 stories it is one of the tallest buildings in Bartlesville.

   

The building is over fifty years old and looks very "modern" even today, which shows how great Wright was. A sundial was located at the entrance to the building and was more complex than most, not only showing the time but the season as well.

It was an enjoyable day and as the skies darkened I headed back to Tulsa. W.

I Need a Disguise!

I guess I better mind my P's & Q's if I want to stay out of trouble.  Brenda has a lot of "spies" wandering around in places frequented by scrapbookers. Today I ran into a few of them.

We made the 200 mile drive on into Tulsa and checked into the hotel. After lunch we had a little time before she had to report for duty so she decided to check out a couple of local scrapbook stores. Now this wouldn't be my idea of fun but I'm a good sport. She is busy the next couple of days and it was better than last year when I was driving her around to stores way after my bedtime!

I can tolerate the first ten minutes looking around the store for new things and being thankful I no longer have to worry about inventory, bookkeeping or even running the vacuum cleaner. After that, I wander around the shopping center or retreat to the car to wait it out. Today was no exception. I made my pass through the store then headed out to check out the wine maker's store and the hobby store. Finding nothing else of interest, I headed back to the store to let Brenda know I'd be in the car.

As I approached the store three ladies were standing outside looking at me and holding a recent issue of Creating Keepsakes. I knew I had been spotted, and one of the gals ask me if I was, in fact, the guy in the layout. After admitting that was me in the magazine, I was asked if Brenda was over at the convention center. Do you suppose someone actually thought I might go to a scrapbook store by myself? Not a chance.

They wanted a picture of Brenda and me too. So now I suppose someone else will have my mug on another scrapbook page.  Do you think I could get away with some Groucho Marks glasses, nose and mustache? I never ceased to be amazed. W.

A Four Lane Parking Lot

We are back on the road and that means I get another shot at blogging - not that I couldn't post while at home, I just don't. Since our body clocks operate on different times, it gives me something to do when the boss gets in ready in the morning. The truth is I'm long gone when she is blogging away at night.

How many good ways can you get to Tulsa? Answer none. How many ways does the navigation system offer? Several. When we left Pace, Tillie calculated a route showing about 600 miles and ten hours driving time which was consistent with my mapping software at home. However, when we made our first pit stop outside Hattiesburg, she decided to recalculate a new route - slightly shorter mileage but longer time because of non-interstate roads. My on-board human navigator fiddled with the system and determined that you had choices, depending on whether you wanted to stay on four lane or go cross country on smaller but more direct roads.

Having made the trip many times up the great river road, I decided it was time for a change in scenery and pondered my options. I wavered back and forth as we drove to Jackson where the decision was made as I pulled on to I-55 toward Memphis. We may have driven this stretch in the past but it has been several years. The only remotely familiar landmark for either of us was the Batesville Casket Company in Batesville, MS. Why that was the only thing we remembered is a bit strange but you don't see casket factories every day.

The trip to Memphis was uneventful and we crossed the Mississippi River and headed west toward Little Rock making good time and making my decision to choose interstate a good one. But the travel gods thought I needed a break, and it wasn't long before we got one. I-40 has heavy truck traffic, and it is difficult for them to pass other slightly slower trucks so your progress is less than normal for four lane driving. We soon saw the tell tale stoplights and trucks as far as the eye could see - not good for sure.

Our clue that it must have been an accident was there were no cars coming in the other direction. We never had to come to a complete stop for any length of time but we creeped along for over thirty minutes before arriving at the scene of a small car demolished in the median and an eighteen wheeler in the far ditch. It will be a miracle if nobody was killed as it looked like they used the jaws-of-life to get them out. What came to mind was a little weed trimming I did on this same trip last year when the Acura hydroplaned and we drove through the ditch for a few hundred yards. Maybe Brenda should take Tulsa off the list of conventions she teaches at.

We were on the lucky side of the freeway as I measured a six-mile backup on the otherside. Many of the people were out of their cars or trucks meeting other folks, walking their dogs and enjoying Arkansas and it's hundred degree weather.

So my decision to take the longer but faster route did not change the end results as we pulled in to Russellville in just a hair over the ten hours originally projected.

This morning I took advantage of the free breakfast at the hotel and suffered a severe case of "lens envy" when I saw the ESPN photographers here for the fishing tournament. One of the cameraman toting a couple of bags full of camera gear plus a huge - maybe two foot long - telephoto lens. It had to be 8" in diameter and I could tell was very heavy. It would be fun to watch them work a fishing tournament - maybe we could rent a canoe - - Well maybe not!  W.

On The Road Again

A rolling suitcase will gather no moss at our house. Yep, we're on the road again. We're in the "hit the highway, come home, repeat" mode...been that way since early July and likely to continue through October. We didn't even take the clothes rod out of the back seat after the last trip as we knew it would be in use again soon. As I parked my posterior in the car this morning, the seat had a very familiar feel, indeed.

I'm waiting for disaster to strike somewhere in the world; we have a habit of bringing one on when we travel. We were in San Diego when the Federal Building was bombed in Oklahoma City. On 9-11 we were hiking and sightseeing in Utah, and news of the shuttle's explosion over Texas reached us in Africa. If I'm not mistaken, we were returning from Yellowstone when Hurricane Katrina came ashore. With our track record, it might be in the world's best interests for us to stay home.

The stop tonight is Russellville, Arkansas, where we've joined a small multitude of people here for the Bassmaster's tournament at nearby Lake Dardanelle. The hotel parking lot is full of boats and trucks with fish decals on them, a far cry from the scrapbookers who will surround us at our next home on the road. We bit off the biggest part of the drive today so we could arrive in Tulsa early in the afternoon tomorrow...CKC-Tulsa kicks off at 5 p.m. The weekend will be full and before you know it, we'll be on the road again. 

Going Green

I love seeing the shadows lengthen across the #4 green as the day is about to end. Some would argue that the golf course is prettiest at dawn when it's fresh with dew, but I like dusk. Every shade of green is represented in the fading light, made all the richer in the golden tones of the setting sun. It's peaceful and serene.

And as this photo shows, the greens are green again. Some are better than others and a few thin spots remain, but the journey of replacing the grass on all eighteen holes is coming to an end. The plan is for the greens to reopen for play on September 1.

It's been an interesting process to watch...learning why they removed some grass but killed other, how they chopped up the dead and removed it with a blower, then watching the spreading of almost frozen sprigs and finally the nurturing it took to assure it would grow. It was a process that didn't go fast enough to suit Hiram, but we all knew that before it started. He sets high standards...that's what sets this golf course and this community apart.

It's been more than 20 years since we piled into Hiram's truck and set off on rough logging roads for a tour of the property. Where we saw nothing but pine trees and an old clay pit, he envisioned fairways and greens. Those big pines behind the green in the photo above were only 8'-10' high then. But one of the things we did see in that tour was the property overlooking what would become the #4 green would be a great place for a home. And it is.

Seventeen years ago this month we started construction of that home. As we stood on the cleared lot with Uncle Joe, I told him I wanted to be able to stand at my kitchen sink and look out at that green, and he made sure I can. It's nice to see it green again.

The Inept and The Incapacitated

I have a great washer and dryer that I absolutely love. They're a couple of years old, and gradually over that time the washer has worked it's way out of level. The vibration from all that spinning coupled with an unbalanced load now and then had caused the machine to work further and further down on the legs. In fact, the top was a good half inch below the top of the dryer. So in my best "honey-do" voice I inquired of handy-man husband if he thought we could remedy that, and he seemed to think we could. So far, so good.

Now let me paint a mental picture for you of how that all went down. Wayne's knees aren't the best in the world, so getting up and down on hard ceramic tile is difficult at best. It's even more challenging since he's still nursing a bum shoulder. We could blame it on an old sports injury but canoeing hardly counts as a sport and we haven't been home that long. We started out with Wayne tilting the washer for me to put the block under, and then him getting down on the floor to adjust the legs. The problem was, we kept having to repeatedly tilt, adjust, tilt and set down, and it was just too many ups and downs for him with his incapacitated shoulder. So far, not quite as good.

Then we decided I would do the work on the floor and he would stay upright. Let's just say wrenches are not a scrapbooking tool so I'm not particularly adept at using them. And I was having just the tiniest bit of trouble telling if the legs were going up or down when I was adjusting them...OK, so it was a lot of trouble but who's keeping track. Here I am squished into what room we could make pulling the washer out from the wall and down on all fours with my head practically resting on the tile trying to turn a wrench one way and the washer leg the other. You definitely won't be seeing any photos in this post; it wasn't a pretty sight. It took way longer than it should, thanks to my ineptitude, but we finally got the back legs level. So far, this isn't very good at all.

We moved back around to the front legs again with me still on the floor. It wasn't long though before Wayne could see he needed to wield the wrench if we were ever going to finish. We came to a compromise: he'd let me tilt the washer so he didn't have to continuously get up and down, and I'd let him lie prone at my feet, turning and adjusting until things were level. Who said a compromise had to be fair to both sides. So far, this is getting better.

All is right in the utility room now. The washer is once again the same height as the dryer and doesn't rock from corner to corner. It's Monday...laundry day...and the last load of dirty clothes went into the newly-level washer to test our adjustments.  I'm happy to report so far, so good.

Purely Medicinal

The lead story in the Health section of today's paper was all about antioxidants. You know, those substances with super powers to knock villains such a cancer, heart disease and other chronic illnesses off their feet. The photo of colorful fruits and vegetables drew me in, and I started reading the list of foods high in antioxidants. Good things. Foods I like. Raspberries, blueberries, red cabbage, spinach...and dark chocolate?

Hey, hey...now I can indulge in my favorite vice all in the name of good health? So I kept reading. Amazingly, it's the most powerful source of antioxidants, gram for gram, and way ahead of second place. Hmmm, let's see...eat 100 grams of dark chocolate or 13x as much Brussels sprouts to get the same benefit?  It's hardly a contest as far as my palate is concerned.

Hershey's kisses are the reward for participation in one of the classes I teach, a trick passed on to me from my buddy Leslie. Women, you know, will do almost anything for chocolate. And I always tell them I've chosen dark because it's good for them. Allowing that little morsel of chocolatey goodness to melt in your mouth is akin to getting a real kiss as far as the chemicals in your brain are concerned...it makes you happy. I just didn't know how happy it was making my heart, arteries and the rest of my body before reading this article.

I guess now I'll be eating more of these little purple guys.  Not just because I like them...oh no, all in the name of good health.

One Album at a Time

This is the album I want to be doing. Stacked there are ticket stubs, brochures, maps and assorted other materials from our Michigan trip along with some supplies I bought specifically for the album. And that cute little machine next to it is my new Bind-It-All that's going to hold it all together. I'm anxious to see if the ideas I have for incorporating everything into the album actually work out the way I see them in my head.

This is the album I'm excited about doing. It doesn't look like much here because all the pages and some of the fun extras to go in it are totally clear, but there are some amazing examples of completed albums here. Just thinking about what I could do with this album and how it might come together has my creative juices flowing.

This is the album I'm looking forward to doing. I recently took an online class at Big Picture Scrapbooking titled "Scrapbooking: It Matters," and this album was the class project. Enrollment came at a time when I needed to be reminded that scrapbooking did indeed matter. It seems kind of funny to scrapbook about scrapbooking, but I want this little album to reinforce some of the things covered in that class.

This is the album I need to be doing. We'll make this album next weekend at CKC-Tulsa, and since the class is new, I need to create the pages to see where the stumbling blocks might be so I can help the students navigate around them. Pretty papers in the kit that is the foundation of this album.

I can't show photos of the albums I have been doing...cute little mini albums for an upcoming make and take project. For the non-scrapbooking readers, vendors or stores offer quick projects for customers to make at a table (often at a trade show or convention) and take with them, hence the name. I like how these turned out.

This is the album I have to get busy doing...like yesterday. Another pretty kit around which to build a class. It's going to be a well-traveled album because as things stand now, it's coming to Kansas with us. Surely there will be an hour here or there on the road to create.

I could go on and on...there are more album ideas in my head and blank books, big and small, with which to make them on my shelves. All it takes is time. And while there are occasions where I'm sure there aren't enough hours in the day to do all that I need to do, let alone want to do, I love the process. Why rush through something you love. So these albums will get created, one by one, some more quickly than others. Deadlines do that. But the fun ones need to be just that...fun. That's what scrapbooking is supposed to be all about.

A Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Waste

I have a pretty good memory...well, most times, anyway. I've never been one to keep a planner or jot appointments on the calendar. Oh, I've held some great ones in my hands, contemplating their purchase. I wanted to like them as they clearly appealed to the organized left side of my brain. But in the end, they stayed at the store. After all, why spend good money on something new when the old system of keeping it all in my head was working well. But I may have to reconsider.

Within the span of less than an hour yesterday, my usually-dependable memory wasn't so reliable.

1. On the way out the patio door, the thought of turning the irrigation system back on flew right out of my head. Deciding I should get a water sample from the pool and take it in for testing must have caused it to grow wings.
2. I went outside originally because the boiled eggs needed a few more minutes in the hot water before they were ready to run under the cold and put in the fridge. They got more than a few; I had to call Wayne on my way to the pool store and ask him to take care of them.
3. Two bags filled to the brim with more plastic bags were sitting next to my car, ready to be returned to Wal-Mart for recycling. Do you think they made it in my car? Nope...I walked right by them as I hopped in the car and backed out of the garage.
4. I needed three things from Wal-Mart. I left Wal-Mart with three things...but one of them wasn't on the original list. As I got into my car in the parking lot, it dawned on me I didn't have all that I needed so I was forced to make an unplanned stop at Winn-Dixie on the way home.

None of these oversights are earth-shattering nor are they the kind that having a planner or calendar would have prevented. I'm chalking them up to busyness...a new project on the table, getting things done before we leave town again, and coordinating time with family and friends while we're home. More things on my mind than my brain cells can handle apparently. But what about all those dates I'm making; will I remember? My old system could be just that...old.

When I gave my notice at the law firm some years ago, the attorney for whom I worked simply could not understand how I would voluntarily relinquish my job. In fact, he declared that my mind would turn to mush without the mental stimulation of coming to work every day. Maybe he was right. I might want to rethink that whole planner idea.

Peachy Keen

It's a perceptive man who knows what he'll be having for dessert even before the cook thinks about adding dessert to the menu. But then Wayne pretty much has me figured out. So when he read the paper yesterday morning and saw the recipe for Peach Raspberry Crumble featured there, he knew we'd be eating it soon. After all, there were still a few yummy peaches in the refrigerator and I can't resist anything with raspberries in it.

Dinner tonight fell under the cook-once-eat-twice heading...a big, crispy salad with lots of extras, including grilled chicken. We've gotten into the habit of fixing twice the normal amount of boneless chicken breasts, eating half right off the grill for one meal and serving the other half cold on a nice salad a day or two later. A tasty and efficient use of time and energy, especially in such hot weather. We negated all that healthy fare with this lovely treat.

Well, it wasn't totally unhealthy...fresh fruits with all those vitamins and antioxidants and some whole grains for fiber are good for you. I could probably rationalize the ice cream, too, if I work at it.  Here's the recipe:

                        Peach Raspberry Crumble

5 cups peeled, pitted and thickly sliced ripe peaches
1/2 cup fresh raspberries
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar, divided
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon all purpose flour, divided
2/3 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1/4 cup butter, cold and cut into small pieces

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray an 8-inch square baking dish with nonstick spray coating. Place peaches, raspberries, granulated sugar, 1/4 cup brown sugar and 1 tablespoon flour in mixing bowl. Allow to stand 5 minutes and gently stir. Spoon into baking dish.

Combine remaining 1/4 cup brown sugar, 1/4 cup flour and oats. Stir to blend. Using fingers or two knives, cut butter into mixture until butter pieces are pea sized. Sprinkle over peaches. Bake 40 to 50 minutes. Serve warm. Makes 6 servings.

It was easy to fix and a great combination of flavors. Our peaches have been really sweet, and when I  make it again, I'll probably cut back a little on the sugar...but then we like peaches without any added sweetener when we eat them plain. And the article that accompanied the recipe cautioned against the urge to add more flour, saying the crumble was best enjoyed nice and juicy. And nice and juicy it was. In fact, I'd say it was peachy keen. Too bad nobody says that anymore.

Shopaholic? Not!

Somehow I must have missed out on the shopping gene women are supposed to have. Cruising the mall just for the sake of shopping wouldn't be high on my list of entertainment options, and I can't say that I relish going when circumstances demand it. But sometimes you just have to shop, and today was one of those days.

We have a family wedding coming up. Pickings are pretty slim in my closet when it comes to wedding-appropriate attire. My Columbia crop pants, perfect for hiking, just aren't going to cut it, and that seems to have been the objective of my shopping excursions for some time. Without any prompting on my part, Wayne came to a similar conclusion about his own wardrobe and volunteered to accompany me and shop for himself. So off to the mall we went.

I'm convinced there was a contest among fashion (and I use the term loosely) designers to see how ugly they can make this season's clothes and still have women buy them. Well, I certainly saw plenty of garments that made me think that anyway. Big bold patterns. Weird color combos. Strange necklines and waists. And what's with all this baby-doll stuff? Just the thought of "mature" women in baby-doll tops makes me shudder. It's clear I'm not the target audience for these styles.

So it was a challenge. I tried on things with ruffles...too much stuff. How about the top with a little embroidery? Too much plunge. It took a lot of searching but I finally found something with classic lines and colors that are fashionable but don't clash. Trendy? Hardly, I left the latest styles on the rack. But I'm content with the choice...and the fact that I won't have to go back to the mall again for a while.   

It's a Conspiracy, I Tell You

     "Psst...hey you!  Yes, you...third bush from the end."
     "You talking to me?"
     "Yep.  Wanna have a little fun?"
     "Sure!  Whatcha got in mind?"
     "Remember a week or two ago when the lady trimmed us all up?  I think it's time for a little revenge."
     "Hey, I'm all for that.  I had to work really hard at growing since she whacked us off last spring.  I was just feeling back to normal when she cut us again."
     "You think we had it bad?  Look at those azaleas next to us.  She cut them clear to the ground!"
     "That's right, but you've got to admit they were getting pretty gangly and overgrown.  They're coming back pretty good now.  She did the same thing last year to those guys in the front bed and they're full and healthy looking this year."
     "Well, she cut our brothers on the side of the house down to the ground this spring, too.  And I heard her say that if they grew back fine, she was going to do the same to us next year."
     "Oh, no!  Clear to the ground!  What are we going to do?"
     "She said she hoped this trim would last for a while because she was going to be too busy the next month or two for much yard work.  I say we show her a thing or two and grow as much as we can."
     "That's a great idea!  Perfect time, too; the nights are warm and we're getting regular afternoon showers.  Heck, I think I can grow 24 hours a day under these conditions."
     "This will be fun.  Last one to the eave is a rotten egg!"

Tick Tock

Hear that?  It's the sound of life going by much too quickly.  I think that frequently, but today it comes on the heels of this evening's telephone conversation with Kayla.  School started today so for her it was the first day of seventh grade.  Seventh grade.  I don't know how that happened.

It doesn't seem that long ago since I experienced my first day of seventh grade.  I remember so many details about that day, maybe because it marked the change from elementary school to junior high.  And it seems like only yesterday that first Brad then Ricky started seventh grade...well, only yesterday in my mind anyway.

Kayla pronounced seventh grade "boring" and "stressful," but she quickly added that sixth grade seemed the same way at the start of the year and by the end she really liked it.  I got the full run-down on the day's attire as well as the color and patterns of the school supplies selected for the year.  But what she really wanted to talk about was "High School Musical 2" that premiers this weekend.  As I listened to her words bubbling through the phone line, I smiled.  I know her eyes were sparkling and a thousand expressions crossed her face as she talked to me.

 

Sometimes I wish I could stop time and keep her just the way she is right now.  I'm sure as a parent I thought the same thing at times about my boys.  But as much as I have enjoyed each stage in her young life, I've loved the next one more.  So I'm willing to let that clock keep on ticking...I just wish it would slow down a little.

She's Happy Now

No, not me.  But maybe on second thought that statement would apply to me, too.  I did check a few things off the "to do" list today.  It seems I've suffered a bit of post-vacation malaise...not really interested in doing much.  There are plenty of things I could and should be doing but I can't seem to muster the motivation.  I guess I'm just easing back into life at home.  But the ironing is finally done, the piles of miscellaneous stuff that got dumped from the car onto the kitchen counter have found a home (mostly), and I've even done some pool maintenance and pulled a few weeds.  Maybe I'm more productive than I thought.

The happy "she" I had in mind, though, is Tillie.  Yep, she's clean from top to bottom, inside and out.  All the dust from the gravel roads we traveled is washed away, and the tar and gunk from numerous road construction sites we drove through is history.  More than once we ate a quick lunch or snack as we drove so she was definitely in need of a clean-up.

I can't stand for my car to be dirty.  Well, I don't exactly love being in Wayne's truck when it's dirty either, but it's his truck so I leave cleaning it up to him.  But I want my car clean, and I admit to being particular about how it gets done.  No need to take it to one of those full-service car washes as I'm likely to do it over to suit me.  Get all the bugs off the front bumper.  Don't leave streaks on the inside of the windows.  Clean the dash but don't goop it up with a bunch of Armor All.  Open the doors and wipe all that hidden area; it gets dirty, too. Like I said...particular.

Thanks to more heat-induced thunderstorms this afternoon, the temperatures dropped to a more tolerable range so I vacuumed and scrubbed and wiped and buffed.  Tillie is all shiny again.  I'm sure she's much happier...I know I am.

Simple Pleasures

One of the best things about August is the abundance of good tomatoes.  Really good ones...truly vine-ripened, not picked while they're hard and green.  We stopped on our way home at one of the many produce stands in Clanton, Alabama, and purchased a big basket of them.  And when you've got good tomatoes at hand, the choice for dinner is easy...baloney sandwiches.

Ordinarily, I have no interest in a baloney sandwich, but give me a good tomato to put on it and I'm all over it.  A hearty whole-grain bread and a tasty Colby-Jack cheese can elevate plain old baloney to a gourmet delight...if you've got a flavorful tomato to go with it.  Wayne confessed he'd been thinking about baloney sandwiches since he picked up the basket of tomatoes at the produce stand.

It's a bit of a comfort food, I suppose.  A reminder of childhood, school lunches and quick suppers, although that juicy, ripe tomato wasn't always included.  On a day when the thermometer was threatening record high temperatures and I'd spent another day trying to make a dent in the post-vacation ironing, the ease and comfort of a simple sandwich sounded...and tasted...pretty good.

We topped it off with fresh peaches, another Alabama purchase and another bonus of August.  Boy, were they good...so sweet and juicy we ate them just peeled and sliced all by themselves.  Another simple pleasure. 

A late afternoon thunderstorm provided some welcome relief from the heat, and I spent an hour or so outside after dinner.  It was peaceful out there...the smell of rain still heavy in the air, the sky filled with reds and pinks from the setting sun and the whip-poor-wills beginning to call to one another.  More of those simple things that remind me how good life really is.

Pictured Rocks Revisited

I'm trying to settle back into a normal routine after the great time in Michigan. I concluded that a final post on that trip would feature my picks of the top five photos from the trip.  However, a couple of hours in Photoshop and I had selected around thirty favorites and was having difficulty culling them down.

What I did notice is how much I liked the photos from Pictured Rock National Lakeshore. So with a little editing here are my current top ten from the lakeshore (always subject to change!). W

 

Da Yoopers, Eh?

yooper \YOU·per\ n.  1.  A native or inhabitant of Upper Michigan.  It is a regional word derived from the initials U.P. and denotes a resident of that area.  2.  The opposite of a Troll who is a person who lives below (or south of) the Mackinac Bridge.

I was all set for my Yooper experience...had my ears tuned for their unique dialect from the moment we crossed the bridge.  I didn't ear as much as I expected, but I walked away from one conversation with a big grin knowing I had experienced true Yooper talk.  I just wish I had written it all down as soon as I came back to the car so I could remember more of it. 

There were plenty of "da's" and "dat's"for "the's and "that's," a "youse guys" or two, and even an "aboot" for "about."  I was working hard to contain my delight as I listened to the two locals discuss my question and offer a response.  Most sentences ended in "eh?"  It seems to be almost a form of punctuation...a verbal cue to the listener akin to "you know what I mean?"  I was enjoying listening to them talk so much I hated that the conversation didn't last longer.  Later I saw a sign on the door to a store at Copper Harbor that said "Da 'In' Door, Eh?"   It seemed to summarize the Yooper-speak...a good-natured recognition that they sound a little different but are proud of it.

And proud they are of their Finnish roots.  So much so that they have bumper stickers on their cars that say "Finn"...we saw them for sale in area stores.  I've never seen a similar sticker that said "Brit" or "German."  Their heritage is obviously important to them.

But I wouldn't want my words to be construed as making fun of them; nothing could be further from the truth.  Everyone with whom we came in contact was beyond nice...warm and genuinely interested in making sure we were enjoying our visit.  I guess our Southern accents made it obvious we were Fudgies, a local term for visitors who frequent the local candy shops.  It's August...late in the summer in areas where tourists have descended for months.  The point in the season where cashiers, wait staff and other service people could tire and lose patience with all these "foreigners," us included.  But that wasn't our experience...we were met with kindness and friendliness everywhere we went. 

It's easy to remember the beauty of the Michigan landscape.  I don't want to forget the beauty of it's people...da Yoopers, eh?

Summing it Up

What a wonderful fifteen days!!

Eight states visited

5,083 miles driven using 170 gallons of gas

One fender bender - not my fault

631 photos taken - remember it's digital

Lots of fresh fruit from roadside stands

13 lighthouses and at least a million seagulls

Waterfalls - too many to count

Many wonderful Michigan state parks

Pictured Rock National Lakeshore a real treasure

Cool temperatures

Warm friendly people

And a traveling buddy who refrained from hitting me with her paddle on the canoe trip

Yep I'm a lucky guy!!!

Home

Feels good.
All those miles behind us.
The car unloaded; the suitcases unpacked.
Vacation is over.

It's always bittersweet to come home.  We're filled with great memories of all the beautiful places we saw and the fun we had.  Those are good and we hate to see them come to an end.  But we're also looking forward to sleeping in our own bed...to familiar noises in the night and getting back into our normal routine...whatever "normal" is.

We clicked off the miles rather easily, if 1300 miles can ever be easy.  It was 57 degrees when we got in the car yesterday morning...and 97 degrees when we got out last night.  In Birmingham today, the thermometer in the car flat-lined.  Too hot to register.  We were parked on concrete at the time, and once we started moving, it began registering at 109.  Some of that was heat reflected from the pavement, but the air temperature was 100, give or take a degree.  And that's the forecast here for the next few days...temperatures at or slightly over the 100 degree mark.  Add in the humidity and the heat index jumps to 110 or more.  Some welcome home.

There was a little excitement at the start of the trip home.  Not long after setting out yesterday, we saw a bear.  He lumbered up out of the ditch about 125 yards ahead of us and headed across the road.  He wasn't moving very fast at first, then he kind of picked up the pace when he turned and saw our car approaching.  A pretty good sized one, too...it was so cool.  I told Wayne it was Michigan's way of saying to us we'd have to come back because we hadn't see it all.  Technically, we'd crossed into Wisconsin at the time we saw the bear but I'm sure he was a Michigan bear whose morning stroll just happened to take him across the state line, too.

Both of us have more Michigan stories we hope to share...just not tonight.  Tonight we're home.

 

Traveling North

The lure of the northern tip of the UP was too strong...we couldn't resist.  So we checked out of Munising this morning and headed north.  And knowing that Torm is anxiously waiting to hear of our activities on her home turf, here's a summary of the day's activities.

No sleeping in for me this morning; we had lots of ground to cover.  But I was promised a treat...giant cinnamon rolls from the Hilltop Restaurant.  And yes, they are every bit as big as the photos on their web page.  I had to "unroll" it and turn the pieces sideways as the rolls were close to 3" high...too tall to get in my mouth.  We purchased two but one was more than enough for Wayne and I to share so breakfast tomorrow is already taken care of.  They absolutely lived up to the hype...soft, cinnamon-y and yummy.  Here's a photo of my favorite guy before we dove into this gooey treat.

When we got to Houghton, we veered off on Highway 26 through Dollar Bay, Hubbell and Lake Linden before coming back into Highway 41.  Traveling through these little towns was a pleasant experience and we could save the main highway for the return trip.  At Phoenix we turned off again, journeying through Eagle River and Eagle Harbor.  Wayne and I concluded they reminded us of the small cities we saw in Newfoundland.  I think it was either the effect of harsh weather on the communities or the manner in which the buildings are constructed in order to withstand those conditions.  It was really pretty traveling along the coastline.

Along the way we made a stop at The Jampot.  This cool little shop sells jams, jellies and baked goods made by a group of monks from the Society of St. John.  Yep, real monks in brown robes who were so pleasant and helpful.  You can learn more of their story and see a photo of the inside here.  The smells inside were incredible and every thing looked as good as it smelled.  We each picked one of the jams...black cherry for Wayne and thimbleberry for me.  We kept seeing signs for thimbleberry jam so I asked the monk behind the counter about it.  He likened it to a raspberry but slightly sharper and more earthy...that was good enough for me.  And then we couldn't resist the enormous muffins.  Like 8"-across enormous.  At this point it sounds like we're eating our way north!

Brockway Mountain Drive took us up, both in terms of latitude and elevation, and we soon found ourselves at an observation area at the top of the mountain.  Spread below us was a sweeping view of the blue waters of Lake Superior contrasted against the deep green forest through which we had just traveled.  The skies were too hazy for the scenery to photograph well but trust me, it was far better than the photos on the website I linked.

We lunched at Fort Wilkins State Park then wandered around the quaint town of Copper Harbor for a while.  The next stop on the day's tour was the Delaware Mine.  We donned our jackets for the 45 degree temperatures in the mine and tackled the series of wooden steps, soon finding ourselves 110' below ground.  The tour was all on the first of seven original levels of this copper mine active between 1847 and 1887; all lower levels are now flooded.  I liked that the tour was self-guided so we could move at our own pace, examining the examples of the old mining equipment and pointing out the areas in the surrounding rock where small amounts of copper were still visible.  Neither of us could imagine what it would have been like to have worked down there at that time without sophisticated tools and safety equipment.  I loved the stylish hats we were given to wear.

Turning south, we intended to stop at a roadside stand and buy thimbleberries and Keweenaw wild blueberries but they either sold out or closed up shop as they were gone when we returned.  We'll just have to save that for the next trip.  And as cool as it would have been to run into Carol, Torm's mom, who I understand was also making a trip around the tip today, our paths didn't cross.  Another opportunity for a future visit.

This sign near Calumet caught my eye.  It documents the amount of snow received yearly in the area since 1957.  Do you see those numbers?  The record is 390.4" and the average is 240.9".  The red arrow points to last winter's accumulation, slightly above average.  I simply cannot fathom dealing with snow like that.  You can be sure that future visit won't be occurring in the winter!

 

So we're in Ironwood tonight, mapping the route home.  Barring something unexpected, it's two long days of blacktop ahead.  We've traveled as far north as we can Michigan...it's time to go south.

I Married a Good Sport!

Today was my day on this trip and I selected a four hour canoe trip as the activity of the day.  You can check out the 15 mile Seney Wildlife Refuge Canoe Trip here: Northland Outfitters. I planned the trip even though I knew this wouldn't be Brenda's favorite activity.  I had hoped picking a trip through a wildlife refuge would make it more appealing.

Brenda and I have paddled canoes in Florida and Africa but not 15 miles and four hours and not in several years. We drove to the outfitter and were soon in the canoe and on our way. The first hour was touch and go with me questioning whether I had made a good decision and Brenda sure I hadn't.

Canoing is a great test of team work and communication. And the operation of the canoe is not always intuitive and takes some time to get back into the hang of it. We got off to a bit of a rocky start determining who was steering and what course we should be taking. You see the river is low at this time of year and is full of snags, stumps, rocks and even whole trees laying in the river.

Voices were raised and nerves a little rattled before we finally got in the groove and regained our feel for the art of paddling a canoe. The first hour had a few hitches and we had to work ourself out of a jam or two or five. At one point a tree completely blocked the river, and we were lucky that another group was out of their canoe already and they helped us over.

It wasn't long before our skills improved and so did our attitudes. It was a pretty river, very winding but for the most part gentle flowing. The challenge was moving from one side to the other to avoid tons of obstacles, many of which became apparent too late. We banged off a few of them but on only one occasion was I concerned about swamping the canoe.

You may have noticed that there are no pictures of this adventure. Brenda did not take her camera and my Nikon stayed sealed in a zip-lock bag for most of the trip. Next time, if there is a next time, a waterproof disposable will be the camera of choice. Even then there would not be much time to shoot pictures while paddling.

We made good time and arrived at the takeout point thirty minutes early without any major incidents and both of us dry. However, this would not last for me. As I exited the canoe in a foot of water, the current caught the canoe and I ended up on my butt in the water. As I tried to catch myself, I managed to jam a shoulder which is very sore at the moment. Even considering my embarrassment for falling in and the pain in the shoulder I consider it a great trip. I just hope my roommate feels the same!

We completed the day by driving though Seney National Wildlife Refuge. The refuge is huge and we drove a seven-mile drive through it. It was easy to see that during migration it would be a temporary home to tens of thousand birds.  We saw a lot of swans, a few loons and a couple of sandhill cranes but the activity is currently in the summer lull.

This is a gorgeous part of the country but the description of 160 inches of snow last year made us glad it was summer. Tomorrow we are headed a bit further north before we turn Tillie toward Florida. My, time flies when you are having a good time. W

Take a Hike

This was not going to be a Sunday stroll, it was going to be a serious hike for us. Based on the guide book's recommendation a ten mile hike was the goal of the day. The first stop was at the park visitor's center to verify the trail I had laid out. The ranger assured us it was a scenic hike and no technically difficult climbs. For the most part he was correct, we did find a challenge or two along the way.

We drove out to the trail-head, loaded up a backpack with water, trail mix, the large telephoto lens and some minor first aid supplies. The first leg was 1.5 miles to Chapel Falls through beautiful forest and lots of ferns. Chapel Falls was located in a wooded area and was very scenic. As with most falls we have seen, the current lack of rainfall is apparent.

From the falls it was another 1.5 miles to Chapel Rock and the lakeshore. We really liked the view of the rock from the cruise boat but it was also cool being so close. In fact too close to get any good pictures that do it justice. The tree growing out of the top of solid rock speaks to its desire to survive.

Once we reached the lakeshore the trail would follow along the cliff for five miles with the destination being the Mosquito River. About half way along the trail we would reach Grand Portal Rock.  The trail crossed many small stream-beds, mostly dry ones. A friendly hiker offered to take a photo of us on one of the bridges.

It is difficult to describe how beautiful the color of the water, trees, sky and cliffs are and we took tons of photos along the way. We don't have the time to adequately edit and post as many as we would like. At times the trail got really close to the cliff edge and the picture below shows that the drop off was considerable. The water really appears that green.

We were really enjoying the hike and the new views around each bend as we made our way toward Grand Portal Rock.

As you hike along a long trail that has not been visited by thousands of feet it is more difficult to make sure you are on the right trail, as previous hikers often look for vistas not on the main trail. Your mind also plays games with you, like are we on still on the right trail? On todays hike I began to wonder if we had missed the trail marking for the two mile trail back to the car. I would be less than honest if I didn't tell you after seven or eight miles the old feet and knees are looking for the end. We eventually found the connecting trail and the last two miles were focused on finding that car and a diet coke at the general store. As we drove back in we made a stop at the Miner's Castle overlook.

The final stop of the day was at Miner's Falls and it required a 1.2 mile round-trip hike so with a little encouragement our weary bones made it. W

 

A Superior Time

Bright blue skies.  A deliciously warm sun slipping slowly toward the horizon.  A fine mist sparkling in the sunlight as the boat cuts through the deep blue-green water.  It was, indeed, a superior time of day for a sunset cruise to Pictured Rocks on Saturday evening. 

The boat cruised right along these beautiful cliffs, and the views changed as we went along.  Wave action has carved out caves and unique openings in the rocks, and the combination of rains and the different minerals in the various layers gives them an almost painted quality.

The shoreline weaves in and out, and many of the points have beautiful features.  This is Miner's Castle, and it probably looked more castle-like before one of the spires collapsed due to erosion.  We also saw a large outcropping of rock that looked like an Indian chief, complete with his headdress, as well as a lovely arch.  I couldn't decide which was prettier...looking through it at the blue-green water beyond it as we approached or seeing the golden sunlight coming through it as we passed and looked back at it.

We sailed past rocks with streaks of red, orange, green, brown and even blue.  The combination of blue-green water, colorful cliffs topped by the rich green forest, and finally the blue sky was an absolutely feast for the eyes.  And as the sun moved lower in the sky, the golden light only made it better. 

We cruised along the rocks for more than an hour and a half...and the time just flew by.  The calm waters made for an easy ride and the scenery was awesome.  You'd think riding along the bluffs for that long might get boring but it didn't.  There was such variety in the colors and shapes of the rocks that you just wanted to see what was next.

On the way home, one of the crew members stood on the back deck where we were seated and held out full slices of bread for the gulls.  They were clearly expecting it as the birds gathered at the rear of the boat before he even appeared.  It was cool to see them pluck the bread from his hand.  They would fly along side at the same speed as the boat before swooping in to grab the bread, then banking away with their prize.  We were essentially eye to eye with them in their acrobatic moves.

The sun was nearly down when we arrived back in port.  We had made a conscious choice on Saturday to have a day that was a little more relaxed...a little slower pace.  We still packed a lot into it but everything seemed to have an easy vibe to it.  From the emotional connection at the Grandma Doors to the gentle tumble of all the waterfalls and finally the sunset cruise to Pictured Rocks, it was just the time we needed.  In fact, I'd have to say it was Superior. 

I'm Falling for Michigan

In my last blog I discussed backing off the original schedule which called for nearly 400 miles of driving to see the Copper Harbor area - a trip that will have to wait.  But what we did see was four very different but pretty waterfalls. First was a stop at Presque Isle Park for a picnic lunch where we cleaned up the loaf of sunflower seed bread with a couple of beefsteak tomatoes purchased at the farmer's market. It was also the end of the dark cherries, blueberries and plums. Not much left in the cooler now.

After lunch Brenda made her "dip" into Lake Superior and pronounced it very cold.

While it was cold to Brenda it didn't stop some locals from swimming and even a little cliff diving!

Our next stop was at Laughing Whitefish State Park - another trip down a not so good dirt track full of potholes and lots of bumping along only to reach a nice gravel road at the park entrance. The only excitement here was a "photo shoot" of a young lady in the falls with a pretty skimpy bathing suit. She paid for it though in the cold water of the falls and the risk she took just to get out there!

We worked our way back to Munising stopping at Au Train, Wagner and finally Munising Falls. Each was different but very enjoyable.

This is the end of this posting but not the end of the day as the best part was still to come but that will have to be in another entry. It is time to go hiking! W

Unexpected Treasures

It was a leisurely start to the day...a few more minutes of sleep and no real agenda.  We were just playing it by ear, waiting to see what Michigan had to show us.  And what an amazing yet relaxing day we had.

We decided to drive toward Marquette, about 45 miles generally west of Munising.  There were plenty of roadside parks and other places to pull off and enjoy the views of Lake Superior along the way.  Looking at the map of Marquette, I spotted Presque Isle Park.  It looked like a good spot for lunch and I was thrilled when Tillie seemed to know exactly where it was.  But Tillie's Presque Isle Park wasn't the same as the one on the map.  She took us to a small park on the waterfront in downtown Marquette.  We were just about to work our way on up to the larger park I'd seen on the map when we spotted these doors.  We decided to investigate.

Stretched before us were more than 200 household doors lining the edges of the bike paths through this park, each with its own unique style and decoration.  As we started walking along them, it became obvious they were all dedicated to a grandmother. 

They were an amazing mix of styles...colorful, funny, poignant, proud but all filled with love.  Some detailed professional accomplishments...the first woman judge elected in the UP, accomplished artists and dedicated nurses.  Some detailed lives of hardship and sacrifice...women who immigrated to our country and overcame great obstacles to make a life for themselves and their family. 

It was fascinating to see all that went on the doors.  Some, like this one, included personal items that reflected "grandma" and her interests.  One even included a recipe for what must have been that "grandma's" trademark dish.  Many of the "grandmas" sported clothing, which we can only assume consisted of items that actually belonged to that individual.  Most were painted like the ones above, with an enlarged photo serving as "grandma's" head but there was the occasional full painting or full photo.  I saw several that were virtually family trees, documenting all the generations that followed the woman being honored.  One even included drawings obviously made by small children, depicting memories of "grandma" from a child's point of view.

The doors themselves were interesting.  Most were ordinary household doors like you would find in the interior of your home.  But mixed in were some with panes of glass and even one screen door.  We wondered if they might have been doors that actually came from the homes of these women.

In my mind these doors were scrapbooks in another form.  They told me the stories of these women...what their families valued and wanted the world to remember about them.  They were truly touching...and that's what scrapbooking is really about. 

I don't know the full story behind the exhibit...I looked but could only find sketchy information on it.  They are known as the "Grandma Doors" but the motivation behind it remains a mystery at this point.  Art serves many purposes...evoking emotion and provoking thought are two, and this exhibit did just that.  I left feeling like I gained an insight into each of these women honored with their own door...if nothing more than they were loved by their families.  But it also made me think about what might go on my door if my life were summarized in 24 square feet.

We eventually found the right Presque isle Park after a quick visit to the local Farmer's Market.  A simple lunch, some leisure exploring, and quiet walks to several waterfalls (Laughing Whitefish, Wagner, Au Train and Munising Falls) finished our road trip.  We topped all this off with a trip to the local Dairy Queen.  I'm in heaven...they have chocolate soft-serve!  An unexpected treasure, indeed.

Gravity, Fire & Reorganization..

Those three words are rattling around my brain this morning and may need a little explanation. We are in Munising this morning our base for the next four days. So I'll work backwards starting with reorganization. The logistic of all the stuff that travels with us takes several minutes each morning to organize. After awhile I need to take everything out of the trunk and put it back, which gets harder as all the clothes hanging in the back seat make their way back in a huge black laundry bag. I can hardly lift it and it slowly takes over the trunk.

That's the easy part, we finally decided today was the day to reorganize what I had planned for the rest of the stay here. We've been at it for ten days and enjoyed everything we have seen but the old bodies are protesting from long stretches in the car, the long walk on Mackinac Island and very late hours. The combination of too much to do, eastern daylight time and long days up north (sunset is 9:30) has left us unexcited about jumping up early and driving a couple of hundred miles and pack in a few sightseeing hikes as well. As I type this we have not decided what we are going to do today other than the sunset cruise to Pictured Rock.

Planning on paper is not as easy as it seems as it is hard to know how much time you will spend at a certain venue.  Yesterday was a great example of how this works. The trip to Sault Ste. Marie was as we expected and in fact our timing could not have been better. We arrived at the Soo Locks a few minutes before the first of two large freighters were to arrive and pass through the locks.

This was an opportunity to get a close up look at the actions and this is where gravity is such a marvelous thing - simply by opening and closing valves huge ships can be raised or lowered 21 feet.  We absorbed it all and before you knew it we had spent two hours even though the tour books said allow an hour. But this extra hour has to come from somewhere usually the other end of the day.

You may have noticed that I like to see lighthouses, which are not usually located on major interstates! I had two more on the agenda for yesterday, Iroquois Point and Whitefish Point.

Whitefish Point is called the "Graveyard of Ships" because of the danger of running a ground. This location maintains a Shipwreck Museum and is the sight of the annual memorial for the Emund Fitzgerald crew and all lives lost at sea. Trying to get back on schedule we opted to skipped the museum, although we both thought it would be interesting.

On to the cranberry farm "tour" which underwhelmed me but B seem to enjoy. We made up a little time there but it wouldn't last.  Arriving at Tahquamenon Falls we were greeted with a road construction delay and an explanation that the road to Newberry was closed due to a wildfire. This was our planned route to Munising.

The falls were beautiful and well worth the visit even though the area is very dry and the flow over the falls is greatly diminished.

After enjoying the park we had to back track to Paradise (city) and reroute nearly 40 miles out of our way making for another long day. I want you to know I'm not whining just keeping you informed.  Maybe a easy day is the right choice. W

Now Where Is That Sweatshirt?

I'm looking for longer sleeves...and probably longer pants, too.  We're truly in Upper Michigan now, and that means lower temperatures, at least for the next day or two. 

That sweatshirt definitely would have come in handy this morning as we stood at the Soo Locks in Sault Ste. Marie.  The breeze was stiff and quite chilly coming off of Lake Superior as we watched two ships navigate the side-by-side locks.  And I did put on a light sweater when we stopped at the lighthouse at Iroquois Point...the sleeves felt good in this exposed environment.  We sat in the car with the windows down and enjoyed a light lunch.  Out of the wind, the upper 60s temperatures felt good. 

The cranberry marsh at Centennial Cranberry Farm was lined with trees so it was slightly warmer.  We didn't see many cranberries but the film and machinery were interesting.  And no need for a jacket as we walked around at Tahquamenon Falls...the cooler temps were ideal for climbing the steps up and down to both sets of falls. 

I struck up a conversation with an older gentleman standing next to me at the lock this morning.  He was a local, and it didn't take him long to realize that I wasn't.  When the conversation veered to the weather, he pronounced the breezy, cool conditions as a "perfect summer day," condemning the one before it as "stinking hot."  I guess he didn't look for his sweatshirt today but with the temperatures forecast for the low 50s tonight, I'm on the hunt for mine.

Old Friends and New Views

The day started with a drive up I-75 on a beautiful sunny day.. By the time we approached the suspension bridge the skies had turned dark and mother nature let loose. Adding to the excitement of crossing the five mile bridge in the rain was high wind warning signs blinking as we approached.

Paying attention to my driving really didn't allow me to enjoy the beauty of this bridge but Brenda snapped the shot above. We pulled into the ferry terminal at a perfect time as we were on board and under way in less than five minutes. The twenty minute trip was made under cloudy skies aboard boats that produced "rooster tails".

Traveling over to the island I was reminded of an old "friend" that was a part of our family for many treasured years.

This beautiful Irish was going to enjoy the island just like us.  But this wouldn't be the only old friend on this excursion.  The weather was overcast and Brenda decided we needed some insurance so she walked back a few blocks to purchase some plastic rain ponchos she had seen as we got off the ferry. I was taking a few pictures when I saw a familiar looking face... but you are never sure. About this time he spoke to his companion and there was no doubt that it was the Georgia Bulldog aka Dr. Rick. All the way from Pensacola, they were vacationing at the same place and time as we were.

Rick was an anesthesiologist at the Medical Center thirty years ago and a good friend as well. We purchased our first home in Florida from him. Gosh it was great to see them and what a surprise for Brenda when she returned. We walked a trail and chatted before parting ways.

After a wonderful day and no need for rain gear we headed back to check in to the hotel and get a bite to eat.  I got to sample some local fish with a combination of walleye, perch and whitefish. As the sunset we got one more look at the Mighty Mac!

The Island Life

Mother Nature must have known we wanted to spend the better part of day at Mackinac Island as she very kindly ended her morning showers just before we were ready to board the ferry for the 15-minute ride there.  The cloudy skies soon gave way to sunshine and gentle breezes, making the weather perfect for touring the island.

There are three ways to get around on the island:  horse-drawn taxi as shown above, bicycle and by foot.  Yes, that means there are NO cars...none.  Even the UPS man depends on horses; brown ones, of course.  We opted for foot-power...and man, did we give those feet a work-out.  We didn't do the entire road that circles the island (eight miles in length) but I feel sure we must have come close to walking that distance.

We started first walking through the commercial area right off the ferry docks.  It's filled with the standard tourist attractions...t-shirt shops, restaurants, hotels and souvenir shops.  Continuing along the main road, the scenery changed to include more homes...Victorian houses with beautifully painted gingerbread trim, white picket fences and the prettiest flower gardens you can imagine.  And we continued to walk.  The number of homes diminishes and we were soon enjoying the open spaces along the coastline.

About two miles down the road we headed inland, climbing a ton of steps up to this natural arch overlook. Then another mile or so to the old fort where we watched a bit of the presentation about military life on the island.  Throw in another couple of miles on to the far side of the island and then four more along the perimeter road back to the heart of town.  Phew...my feet are tired again just typing that.  But along the way we were checking out the houses and gardens, absorbing the views across the water back to St. Ignace, and enjoying the opportunity of seeing something new and different.

All that just wasn't quite enough walking, so we decided to visit the butterfly house, and I don't regret that additional mile at all.  We've been seeing such beautiful butterflies as we've hiked and done our sightseeing, particularly the Monarchs, but it's been difficult to get close enough to photograph any.  The butterfly house gave us that opportunity.  There were so many pretty ones but I'll stop with just these two.

Our hours on the island passed in a hurry...vacations are like that.  Good memories, though.  And now I hear a piece of fudge calling my name.  I think I'll go put my feet up and enjoy it.

Chicken Liver Paté

Maybe I can squeeze in a short post this morning. Yesterday was a long day and I must admit I didn't carry the compact flash card up to the room so no new pictures. I promise to do better tonight. In my planning I forgot to leave blogging time.

Yesterday wasn't as bad as I expected I was at the body shop at 8:00 and a nice young kid was very helpful and within 10 minutes I had the damage estimate in hand. The fax machine was being worked on so I stopped at a Staples and got the information to Trooper George. Check that off the list and was back to the room by 8:30.

We changed the days plans a bit scaling back on a few places and added the town of Frankenmuth. This turned out to be a great decision and Brenda gets all the credit. I hope I got some good pictures as it was very photogenic, full of flowers and Bavarian architecture. In fact I left B at the Christmas Store while I walked a few blocks of the quaint town.

The best part of the village was dinner! Just check out the dinner menu here: Zehnders. While we didn't partake of the all you can eat, we had more than you could possibly eat.  My choice was fried chicken and this was what I got: Starting with a plate of garlic toast with a scoop of cheddar cheese spread and a scoop of chicken liver paté - BTW I didn't have to share!  This was followed by chicken noodle soup, a green salad, three kinds of bread and strawberry jam.  The meal arrives and on my plate was three pieces of fried chicken that melted in your mouth, dressing and mashed potatoes.  The server provided side bowls of slaw, cottage cheese, corn and enough gravy for four people. And it was all good. The waiter inquired about desert but we waddled out very satisfied.

We are headed for the Mighty Mac today - - P.S. did I say I loved the paté? W

Both Ends of the Spectrum

OK...so I cheated Minnesota out of a few lakes in my entry yesterday.  Well, 9,000 is more than a few but you get the idea...Michigan has a lot of lakes.  Blame it on the allergy-drug-induced fog and late hour.

Today found us enjoying experiences at both ends of the tourist spectrum, both good but in different ways.

The day began with us heading north to Negwegon State Park to enjoy some nature in a little more rustic setting.  We began to suspect Tillie's navigation skills when we were instructed to turn off the main road and there was no sign for the park.  Soon we were sitting at the end of a dead end road...the park was in front of us but there was no way in.  There were no signs anywhere, but after a little research, we learned that was part of its charm.  Following a one-lane, winding, sandy road for 2.5 miles through thick woods, we emerged in a clearing.  Ahead was the park sign and a tidy gravel road.

There were only three or four cars in the parking lot, although more arrived during our stay.  We were probably the only tourists in the bunch...it just wouldn't be a place you'd stumble on.  We had a quiet lunch in the shade then wandered down to the water nearby.  The crescent-shaped beach was so peaceful.  The dark green of the forest gave way to golden sands and clear, turquoise water.  It was the perfect place to dip my toes in Lake Huron.  I don't suppose there were 25 people on the whole beach. 

We worked our way back to Sturgeon Point and again found ourselves walking along a mostly-deserted stretch of beach.  The docent at the old schoolhouse there had told us there were Petroskey stones along the shore so as we were taking in the scenery, we were looking for the stones.  We wandered out on a finger of land, each moving at our own pace with the only sounds being the gentle lapping of the waves and an occasional call from nearby water birds.  Again, I was struck by the peacefulness of this spot...I would have happy to keep walking and looking at all the different rocks along the shore.  I think we might have come up with one or two of the stones but we won't be sure until they are polished up.

Quiet.  Peaceful.  Nature.  Off the beaten path.  That's what we look for when we're out exploring.

So then we did the exact opposite.  We drove south to Frankenmuth for dinner and to visit Bronner's Christmas Store.  Yes, it's all very touristy and filled with people but it still was fun.  The Bavarian architecture and lots of colorful flowers make the town visually appealing, despite the number of people milling around.  And the Christmas store was nothing short of amazing.  Any thing any company makes that is Christmas-related must be in this football-field-sized store.  They give you a map when you go in to help you find your way around, it's that huge.  I was so busy looking at all the ornaments and other Christmas items at eye-level, I'd forget to look up where all the over-sized decorations were displayed.  I looked at some beautiful glass balls I would have liked to have but worried about getting them home.  After all, we still have lots of days on the road.  So I settled on a few other things I thought might travel better.  A little reminder of our time in Michigan. 

I could have spent hours enjoying the solitude of the beaches we visited today...but I also could have spent hours exploring the Christmas store.  Both ends of the spectrum were intriguing but in vastly different ways.

A Bump on the Road

Gee it's August 1st and the summer is moving by pretty quickly. Just read Brenda's 31 random thoughts and I agree with all but one - Don't tell her but my Marriott rewards preferences is set for "upper floors" and where we have stayed the last several nights the third floor is the top floor.  My preference has yielded some terrific views in the big cities. So not weird just Marriott trying to please a customer.

Our move to the eastern side of Michigan was not without an incident. As we drove we came upon a road construction zone (not uncommon for the summer traveler). The repaving project called for one lane to be closed for a mile or so and traffic to be held for a "convoy" to be led around the construction.  While sitting in line, carrying on some meaningful conversation (?), that loud noise and jolt startled us. A very sweet young lady apparently had stopped but for some reason got distracted and rolled forward into the back of Tillie.

The bumpers on the cars are better than they use to be and the damage is cosmetic and not structural or at least that is my current observation. The girl was so apologetic we found ourselves feeling sorry for her. She was in a company car at work and had an insurance claim number in our hands before the state patrol arrived. I will give the patrol credit for being there quickly when we were out in the middle of the countryside.  All the paper work completed we were on our way soon enough.

The downside is we will be altering today's sightseeing to get an estimate for the state police. I guess depending on the extent of the damage a citation might be issued to the other driver. I sure hope not as I'm sure dealing with the corporate world of her company will be trying enough.  The nearest Acura dealer is in the Detroit area so we will be trying a Honda dealer this morning.

The rest of the day went fine with a walk in an old growth forrest in Hartwick Pines State Park where they also had a logging museum.  Man there were some big old trees, not California redwood big, but impressive none the less.

In Tawas State Park we took a two mile hike on the Sandy Hook Nature Trail and saw lots of birds and another lighthouse. The Tawas Point Lighthouse offered tours to the top but we didn't make the trip up.

We finished off the day with a good four-cheese pizza at UNO's an option we don't have at home.  Afterwords we drove around looking for the water and ended up in Bay City State Park for a nice sunset and views of a lagoon where kids were fishing. The mosquitoes finally won out and we headed to the room.

For our golfing buddies I offer this photo:

At one of the farmer's market we stopped at, out among the bins of beautiful fruits and vegetables, was this bin of pond balls. We got a big chuckle out of the sign, although I thought the spelling hydro-pond-ic would be better.  The price must have been right as four men with sacks in hand were checking out as we left with our tomatoes, radishes and small yellow plums. (They are good)

Except for the bump in the road is was another great day! W