Tag Archives: Michigan

On the first day of Christmas…

The beginnings of ice on the Portage Canal

The beginnings of ice on the Portage Canal

I am perhaps moving this blog in a different direction for awhile, my dear loyal readers.  Today I wrote three blogs and tossed two of them away.  Even though they were both engaging, they felt cumbersome.

I shan’t tell you exactly what’s different.

You can guess, if you’re so inspired.

Yesterday, Barry and I traveled to Houghton to begin our Christmas shopping.  We do not like to shop, yet we adore our loved ones for whom we shopped.

We paused for drink and dinner.

We paused and toasted the beginning of the holiday season.

Today is the first day of Christmas, December 1st!

Last night a coyote howled outside our bedroom window.  We startled in our sleep at the closeness of the yipping, the howling.

Barry simultaneously dreamed a coyote stalked his dream.

I haven’t gone outside all day–yet.

All day I stalked your blogs and read, and read, and read.

I feel like our lives intersect.

I feel like Christmas shall arrive soon.

Shall we be ready this 2013 year?  How are you preparing for the upcoming holidays?

What happened with you on the first day of Christmas?

Closer yet

Closer yet

Breakfast with wolf hunters

Wolves in snow.  (None of these photos are mine, darn it.)

Wolves in snow. (None of these photos are mine, darn it.)

Yesterday morning we ate breakfast with a group of wolf hunters.

I shan’t tell you who they are.

Michigan sports a new law:  it’s game now to hunt wolves in the Upper Peninsula.  Cost?  $100 for residents.  $500 for non-residents. Twelve hundred hunters have been licensed this season.

How many wolves shall be culled?

The Department of Natural Resources says 43 in three areas of our fair peninsula.

Continue reading

Dare-devil cliff jumper or rock-squatter sipping tea?

Black rocks, blue sea, autumn colors, Suzi

Black rocks, blue sea, autumn colors, Suzi

Last weekend, as many of you might recall, was the Weekend of the Susies.

On Sunday, blogging buddy Suzi Banks Baum, from Laundry Line Divine, and I met in person (for the first time) and proceeded to dine at the Sweetwater Cafe in Marquette before driving out to Presque Isle to play along the infamous Black Rocks. (She met up with two Kathys while I was meeting up with two Susies during the weekend.  You can read her tale of Two Kathys here.)

Continue reading

This wild & precious moment

The Slate River Falls

The Slate River Falls

The kids have departed.  They now play with their kitty cats on opposite ends of the country.

Your blogger is still remembering the last week.  Her son departed for San Diego early last week; her daughter still remained until yesterday.

Continue reading

Home

Home

Home

I just enjoyed a lovely week in downstate Michigan with my parents.

Dad steadies the ladder to hang the new hummingbird feeder

Dad steadies the ladder to hang the new hummingbird feeder

This is the childhood home where my two brothers and I grew up in Yale, Michigan.  Yale lies about twenty-one miles from blue Lake Huron with its freighters blowing lonely fog horns in dark nights.

Continue reading

Escape

Spring buds on the maple trees

Spring buds on the maple trees

This week’s photo challenge at WordPress is:  Escape.

Just wanted to let you know.  We’ve finally busted out of winter here in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula after almost seven months.

We’ve successfully escaped.

We can only hope someone hid the keys of that winter jailor…

Continue reading

April madness

Chickadee on six foot snow bank

Chickadee on six foot snow bank

The long winter continues.

Another eight inches of snow yesterday morning, give or take three inches.  (It could have been eleven inches.  We’ve ceased measuring in late April.)

I am really OK with it.  No need to offer condolences.  We escaped to Florida earlier in the month, thereby easing Endless Winter Restlessness Syndrome.

I’m not sure the other locals are faring as well.  One senses a certain madness in the flitting eyes of grocery shoppers.  Alcohol sales are up.  People tend not to make sense anymore.  Just sayin’.  The livin’ is not easy up here in Cabin Fever land.

Continue reading

The light of an ordinary trip through pea soup fog to Marquette

How Lake Superior looks in Marquette

How Lake Superior looks in Marquette

Here we are in Marquette, a town 78 miles from our Little House in the Big Woods.  It’s the Big City, kids.  It even has a Starbucks!  How I love the city–just as much as the woods…

Barry has to cover the Baraga Track Meet for the L’Anse Sentinel.  He–I mean we–have been covering this track meet for more years than you have fingers and toes.

Last year he limped in  to cover aforementioned event with a walker less than two weeks after his first knee replacement.  Oh, wasn’t he cute limping around!  (I wouldn’t know–I don’t stay for the track meet anymore.)  Someone snapped his picture and posted it on Facebook.  He was a sports reporter/hero for five minutes!

Continue reading

Waking up to five inches of snow…

Our Little House in the Big Woods

This post is for our children who are far, far away.  May you enjoy the walk around your childhood home.

This post is for you southerners who dream of snowflakes but rarely see them.

This post is for you northerners anticipating the bright beauty of new snowfalls.

Please enjoy the scenes outside our little Upper Peninsula house in the Big Woods.

If you get cold, how about a cup of hot chocolate to get your winter started off on the right foot? (I mean boot.)

Continue reading

Can I come over to your house?

Best friends

A sweet thing happened recently in my blogging world.

My childhood best friend, Carol, suddenly appeared with a comment on my Neil Armstrong tribute post!  What do you know!

(The tribute talked about Carol and me sleeping out in my parent’s backyard apple orchard in 1969.  We looked up at the moon in amazement trying to imagine man walking up there on that mysterious white orb.)

Friends

Carol and I grew up together.  She lived one street over and it only took three minutes if you ran through our neighbor’s back yard.  We were both so shy.  Afraid to talk in school, scared of our own shadows sometimes.

Big 6th grade boys pointed paper guns at us as we walked to kindergarten and we ran all the way back home, petrified of imminent death.

Continue reading