Our Sunday Drive

Kev and I took an afternoon drive this past Sunday. Not something we do much lately (damn those gas prices), so it was really nice. The day wasn't super sunny, but very pleasant. We started out over in Mt. P., and stopped by Ryan and Megan's for another good-bye. Then we headed kinda sorta north, where we soon left the pavement behind...



We saw some beautiful country, including this large bit of marshland...



Home to at least one family of Canada geese...



And several Red-winged Blackbirds, like this beautiful guy...



The geese family made their way through last year's dead cattails. The babies were adorable...



Then Kev and I watched the blackbird go postal on the lead goose...







It got very loud between the blackbird and the geese - very loud! We think the geese must have gotten too close to the blackbird's nest. Whatever it was, they finally called a truce. The mom and dad ushered the goslings on through the marsh. The cattails and other growth in the marsh didn't seem to impede their progress; they moved pretty quickly along and away from the blackbird. We enjoyed the bird drama!



We saw a lot of beautiful barns. This one was near the marsh.



Love the stonework. New pole barn on old, old footings...



I was hoping for a cow or two in this beautiful field... wouldn't that have made a great photo?...



More gorgeous stone footings. I love the gray...



Poor old barn...



And not surprising, around the poor old barn, many discarded things, trucks, tractors, parts of tractors, cars...



Yes, that is moss...



There were lilacs growing all along the roadsides, tons of them! And depending upon which side of the road and how much shade, they were in a variety of blossom stages. It smelled wonderful.



I love the old fashioned lilacs...



Our car smelled heavenly...



I don't care what anyone says, wild mustard is a wildflower, not a weed...



Just ask the butterflies...



We stopped at a few garage sales, and I got a rock tumbler (polisher) for a buck. Score! We also stopped at very cool barn sale. A guy had his pole barn tricked out into a total awesome man cave. It had a front porch on which there were tables with stuff for sale (paperbacks - I got 7, he had some good ones, Robert B. Parker, James Lee Burke... score!). The one side of the barn had an open garage door, and from the road we could see all kinds of beer signs & mirrors and neon lighted signs. When we walked in, we could see a long, oak bar - fully stocked (seriously, all kinds of bottles setting in front of a long mirror wall, plus draft beer pulls), and quite a few nice bar stools. Pool table, awesome stained glass light above it, big round wood table, comfy looking wood and padded dark red vinyl chairs, a couple of lighted glass display cabinets with beer steins, shot glasses, trophies, etc. on the shelves. This place was so awesome. It made me wish we were good friends with the old guy and could stay and drink beer and shoot some pool with him. We're going to make our way back there again this summer.

Then somehow we found ourselves in Farwell...



Where it started to rain really hard. So we headed back to Mt. P., called Ryan and Megan and met them for dinner at Bennigan's...



It was so nice to spend some time with them. Megan left early the next morning to head back home to her family in Kansas, and Ryan is by now somewhere around Goshen, Indiana, where he is doing a residency this summer with Justin Rothshank. I'm looking forward to seeing more of both Ryan's and Megan's work, now that they're both graduates with their BFA in ceramics from CMU. Both Ryan and Megan were super generous to me, and I got to purchase several pieces from the 2 of them before they moved away... at what was obviously a "family discount" pricing! I will post photos soon.

still feeling irish

I am still in middle of My Dream of You by Nuala O'Faolain... since I listen to it only in my car and I haven't been in my car much this past week, I haven't progressed very far. (I got hit again with another flu bug, and I worked from home most of this week.)

I'm enjoying the book very much. The writing is excellent. I was sad to learn via some research on the 'net, that Nuala O'Faolain died from cancer this past May. I will definitely be checking out her other books.

In the book, at the part I'm at now, the main character, a woman, has just arrived, alone, at a cottage on the Atlantic coast of Ireland, and I loved these passages...

"Bertie was right about the cottage in Mallary – I would be happy here. I went in through the porch and stood in the room. It was warm and full of a powdery, golden evening light. And I knew from my childhood that the distant, slow sob, a disturbance of the air more than a noise, was the sea on a stony shore. This was a white room with two small windows; a pot of pink geraniums in flower on one deep sill. A cooker and sink in one corner, a small fireplace, an armchair, size-on-matting and an old rug over it in front of the fire. A table and two chairs, a picture of the Sacred Heart and a little red lamp on the wall. A bathroom down a step broken through the thick rear wall and electric space heaters were signs of the modern world. Otherwise, this was a house outside time. I look down at my feet on the matting; I could hardly believe that they had brought me here."

I've wanted to visit Ireland, and that description makes me wish to be there (sans the long plane ride, however... that, plus time & money means I'll be reading about Ireland instead).

I also liked this part...

"I went out with my coat over my nightdress and followed the restlessness in the air to the sea, where it came in across a rocky shore to gnaw at the eroded edge of the field, not one hundred yards from the cottage… to be on grass beside the sea again. But the sea at Shore Road is very quiet; a sheen on the horizon for most of the day. Here, there was constant vitality. There was a shower so ethereal that I only realized it was passing from seeing the pock marks from the rain drops on the silky surface of the water, swelling strong and calm, the rain drop marks forming and re-forming. Then a wind full of sun followed the shower. I saw the swell begin to break into waves. The wind blew stronger, and the waves began to lift and curl. My hair blew into my face, and I turned and a gust blew me, laughing with joy, back to the house."

I'm sure I spelled "Mallary" incorrectly, and I couldn't come up with any city in Ireland with that spelling or a variation of it. Probably, O'Faolain used a make-believe location for her book. Also, I couldn't find "size-on matting" on a search, and I'm not sure I'm spelling that correctly, either. But it got me going on a mad Google image search... I meant to give credit to where I got these photos from, but I copied out so many that I lost track. Anyway, I got all of these photos from Google image searches, all with the word "Ireland" or "Irish" in them... I wanted to get a look at what that book was making me think of, and also I totally didn't know what peat for a fire looked like, so off I went...

The Atlantic coast of Ireland...



Stony shore...



Irish cottage...



Pink geraniums on a window sill...





Cozy fireplace with a cozy armchair...



Peat fire burning...





The Sacred Heart...



And just because I went way off into cutting and drying peat, or turf, in Ireland...





So now after looking at these photos, go back and read the passages again.

Neat, huh.

Wish I could do a scratch 'n sniff of a peat fire... some day, I'm sure...

2009 and already miscellany

I mentioned that I've been listening to recorded books lately... I listen in my car on my drives to and from work, mostly. Once again, my current book is one set in Ireland. As with all books I read/or listen to, when a passage strikes me, I tend to write it down. Yesterday, I heard this:

"Below the hem of my nightdress, I could see, and I noticed it with a quick flick of misery, that the skin was blotchy over the knob of my ankle bone. And when I lifted the leg and twisted myself to look at it more closely, I saw that the veins at the back of my knees were coarse and blue-black. That was new, wasn't it? Then because the mirror was in front of me, I experimented with moving my head while I listened to Ella. Yes, the skin of my neck puckered when I bowed my head. I leaned across and peered into the mirror and did it again. Lower chin, throat puckers; lift chin, throat smooths out. To think when I was young, I took the fabric of myself for granted. It never occurred to me, no more than it would to Ella now, that some day I would be afraid to look at myself closely."

From the book, My Dream of You, by Nuala O'Faolain - in which I'm only less than half-way through, but so far, so good...

And darn it all, Dyan Cannon is back in my head. Ugh.

While I was rewinding the cassette tape (yes! cassette tape! They look like this, remember?), so I could write down the above text from the book (rewind, write, rewind, write... very handy thing to do while driving!), I heard a bit on NPR, so I stopped for a moment and listened. It was a bit about a group of people artists who each took a photo at 7:15pm each day for a year. It was somewhat interesting; here's the article on NPR.org. I haven't formed any opinion about the collaborative work, because I haven't looked at their site enough... maybe some day when I'm at Espress Milano and can use their super fast 'net access, I'll do so. Maybe. But I did take a gander at the web site for the artist from whom they got their inspiration... I'm not going to link to it here, you can get to it from the NPR article. But.... Oh. My. Heck. This guy did these one-year "art" pieces. In one, he built a wooden cage in his apartment and basically lived in it for one year without radio, TV, etc., and had a friend bring in food. Um... like solitary confinement in prison. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to be in solitary confinement in prison for a year? Me, neither. (Duh, it'd be awful.) Another year-long piece was punching a time-clock every hour for a year at the same time... only the NPR article got it wrong, because the artist didn't quite make it every hour all year long... there is a document on his web site that explains all the times he missed or was late or early. So seems to me he failed on that one. Then another I looked at was him vowing to live outside for a year. Ever wonder what it'd be like to be homeless? Me, neither.

Stranger still for me was the Google search results... it would appear this guy is some well-known artist, I guess. Oy! Me and my hicksville-ness will just stay out of it. All that "thought-provoking" crap stuff on this one just ain't my thang. Here's a thought for you... instead of pretending to be homeless, help them!

So... did I stay up and watch 2009 come into being? No, I did not. I was in bed quite early, actually... before 9pm. Kev was watching some sports stuff on TV, Sammy and his friend, Nate, were up and about, and I said g'night. Joycie and Mike called me about 9:30pm, so I got to wish them Happy New Year. Then I closed my eyes. To sleep a wonderful, restful sleep. Best way to bring in 2009 as far as I'm concerned. Here's hoping the rest of ought nine will be similarly peaceful. Sammy and I are also still hoping our slogan "everything'll be fine in '09" is dependable. No New Year's resolutions from me, however. Don't believe in 'em. It's just Thursday, folks, just another Thursday. What I resolve to do today is no more important than what I resolve to do on a Thursday in, say, March. Gotta go with the flow, stay in the loop, keep your eye on the ball, roll with the punches, make hay while the sun shines, be the duck* and try not to take any wooden nickels.

*Be the duck. This is a wisdom I learned from my mom. When something or someone bothers you and you have no control over the situation, or very little control... be the duck. Let the anger &/or frustration roll off you like water off a duck's back. Be the duck is good advice. Many a time I've needed it, remembered it and got back to being productive and of a more peaceful mindset. Go, Mom!

Yesterday, by the way, was NOT my sister, Kathy's 50th Birthday! But I got Kev, Joycie and Sammy all 3 to call her and wish her a very happy birthday. It was most excellent. Because at some time in our youngsterhood, I apparently decided that Kathy's birthday was not really December 30th, but instead, the Last Day of December, and we argued about it off and on through the years. So when I called Kathy yesterday morning after my family had all called to wish her A Very Happy Birthday Today!, I could hardly talk from laughing. Kathy was on to me from the get-go, but I still got a big chuckle out of it. She told me, "You've been trying to change my birth date for years, and it's never going to work." Right-o. Did I mention she's FIFTY YEARS OLD?!!! Ha! I figure in a couple more decades, I'll be able to convince her.

No-Tail the Squirrel... A few months ago, we began to notice that one of the fox squirrels that lives near our house had a very thin tail...



Not a very good photo - it was kinda dark out and snowing when I took it, but you can definitely see the difference in the poor critter's tail vs. his fine-tailed kin. We figure he got into a fight with something, but maybe it's some kind of squirrel disease.

He's been coming up to the bird feeder regularly, and when I'm up early, such as this morning, I've noticed he's usually the first squirrel to arrive. He'll climb up the limb of the bush nearest the feeder until it bends right to the feeder and onto the roof he goes. It's very graceful. But when other squirrels begin to arrive, fox, gray, black, a veritable melting pot gathering of squirrels, he is the No. 1 to be scared away. Poor little No-Tail. I took a photo of him just now, and I had to use my flash through the window... look at his poor, skinny freezing tail now...



I don't have the heart to scare him away from the feeder.

Update! He's at the feeder still, and a gray squirrel is occupying the other side, and another fox squirrel just came up, onto the roof and tried to take over No-Tail's side of the feeder... and No-Tail didn't let him! Yay for No-Tail! Perhaps he's made himself a New Year's Resolution...

Neck update and other stuff

I saw Dr. Adams yesterday afternoon (the neurosurgeon), and I told him my vertigo was pretty much over and that I wanted to return to working full-time in the office with no restrictions... and he agreed! So Monday, I'm hoping my life will begin to return to normal. As normal as our life gets anyway...

Last time I saw Dr. Adams, thankfully in his Midland office closer to home, he had given me a doctor's note to be out of the office for 2 weeks because of the vertigo (which wasn't related to my neck), and so I had to see him yesterday to get an official doctor's note so I can be back in the office full-time. It'll be nice not to bother with my company's health services department any longer. Done. Thank God.

While at his Midland office, up at the counter when I was checking in, I noticed the files they had ready to go for his appointments that day... His main office is in Saginaw, so I'm sure they pull all the folders for his day's appointments and take them over to Midland. I couldn't resist snapping a couple of pics with my cell phone...





But I can't decide if it's NUF SEX, as in 'nough (enough), or dyslexic FUN SEX....

I had to drive over to Saginaw to see the doc yesterday, and from our house, it's close to an hour's drive. It felt kinda weird driving, since I couldn't drive with the vertigo the past 3 weeks. My appointment was at 3:30pm and I left my house around 1pm... I thought to give myself plenty of time, and hey, if I saw a garage sale, I'd stop (always on the lookout for books).

Yesterday, like the day before and like today, was hotter than allgitout and muggy. Ugh. Not a good day for garage sales; I saw 3 I think. Not worth stopping. But I did see this, sitting on a front porch in town...



I had to back my car up and get my camera out. I thought I was the only one in this county that had one; here's mine...



These are called inuksuks. A few years back when Kevin and I drove up to Cochrane, Ontario, way up north through the Upper Penninsula of Michigan through Sault Ste Marie and up highways 129 and 101 in Canada, we kept seeing these little stone people along that gorgeous drive. (Beautiful country up there.) I took a bunch of photos of them, film back then, not digital. While in Chochrane, we hit a gift/souvenir shop, and they had little replicas of them... that's how I discovered they are called inuksuks, and I bought one (it's on my desk at work). We went up there to collect "Junior," Kevin's chest-mounted black bear, from the taxidermist. We stayed overnight in some hotel, and it turned out to be really nice, and we had a nice dinner there too. It was a great road trip. On our way back home, Kev and I gathered stones so that I could make my own inuksuk at home.

Speaking of road trips, Kev and I took a short one this past Sunday. We decided to take some back roads... I took this photo of the 2 of us back on a dirt road along one of the many, many farm fields we saw...



Yep, Kev's taking a little break... guys are so lucky that way on road trips. *sigh*

Our plan for the day was to go walk on a beach. In Michigan, you're never that far from a beach on one of the Great Lakes. We decided to try and get to Albert E. Sleeper State Park, but we made it only as far as Caseville. We stopped right before Caseville proper, and we took a walk out on this long pier out into Saginaw Bay. It was a gorgeous day, but also super, super windy.



We didn't make it all the way out to the end of the pier, because it was so windy, half way there & my shirt was blowing up around my ears. Too much wind to keep things under control, and I almost lost my hat. I took this photo by perching my camera on a rail across from us...



And the wind almost knocked the camera off the rail. My hat says "Soo Locks." I believe I bought that on our Cochrane road trip when we went through Sault Ste Marie. I wouldn't want to lose it.

We stopped in Caseville for lunch, where I had the best cheeseburger I've ever had. Wish I could remember the name of the place. It was a "black and bleu" burger with cajun seasoning, swiss cheese and bleu cheese dressing. Yummy. Caseville is known for their cheeseburgers...

But after lunch, we ended up just heading back home... I think because our truck was parked in that direction. About 20 minutes down the road, Kev looked at me and exclaimed, "Shit!" We never made it to the beach... forgot all about it. (I told you that was one good cheeseburger. The margarita was pretty good, too.) But I had had enough of the road trip and was happy to be heading home. Won't be doing that again soon. Like probably not until next summer. The neck can't take it yet.

On our drive, we also saw tons and tons of political posters everywhere. I saw a ton of them yesterday, too. Lots of elections going on. This one, however, is by far my favorite so far...

And another...

I saw a Rose-breasted Grosbeak at the feeders yesterday.



He stayed up on the feeder for quite a while, then flew into the smoke bush where I got a nice photo of why he's named what he's named...



The female is a pretty brown and white, but I haven't seen one yet this year.

I'm still seeing quite a few of the cowbirds at the feeders now and then. I'm trying very hard not to detest their presence, and I think I'm starting to get used to them. There's no way to keep them away, not without scaring all the birds. They are an attractive bird in their own way, and their antics can be entertaining.

I looked through my old “Farm and Household Cyclopædia” for information about cowbirds and birds as pests, and found this:

Thy own pumpkin pie

Happy Thanksgiving!

I've mentioned before that I have a lot of old books. One of the oldest is a book of Whittier’s poems.





I bought this in a local used bookstore. One thing I love about buying old, used books is seeing the inscriptions on the inside. This one says Merry Christmas To Carrie From Albert.



I found this poem many Thanksgivings ago and made my family suffer through my reading of it at the dinner table. I love this poem.