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Rolling down the river
I’m a water girl – confirmed years ago growing up on a lake. Get me near water, better yet on water and I’m content. So getting the chance Friday morning to canoe part of the Huron River with my aunt was a gift.
The Huron River starts up near me at Indian Springs, a park Katie and I enjoy regularly, and flows all the way to Lake Erie, 130 miles in all. We paddled 8 miles on Friday morning under a bright blue sky. The water was crystal clear, with large brown fish (trout?) darting below our boat, among the intense green of the river grasses.
The current was gentle but persistent, assisting our trip downriver but not so quick that we couldn’t enjoy the lovely views along the way. The banks were often covered in blue forget-me-not flowers, the sunlight falling on them in dappled joy through the new spring green foliage of the trees above.
Mostly the river was smooth and calm, reflecting the sky and trees, shining on the water bugs scurrying away from our silent canoe. Occasionally we rode through some moderate rapids…
…calling on the skill of my aunt, the expert in the stern to pick the best spot to slide by the largest rocks.
The only people we saw were fishermen also enjoying the quiet beauty of the river.
But we saw lots of nature. A blue heron flew across the river in front of us and around a bend, hidden by trees, only to wait for us in the shallows, ignoring us as we passed. Another heron stood proudly on a log, posing as we glided by.
We saw giant snapping turtles laying eggs on sandy banks, mallard ducks preening on a log, and several families of geese enjoying the beautiful sunny day.
We had such a lovely time, I’m grateful for the opportunity to canoe with my aunt on a river she and my dad used paddle as kids. I remember other canoe trips with my folks, and one trip on this river, though a different stretch of it, with my dad. The Huron stretches 140 miles across this part of Michigan, and right through the hearts of my family.
Aren’t I lucky.
I had a blast!
Katie here. I’ve been bugging my mama (so what else is true, right?) to let me tell you about our camping trip. Here it is almost two weeks since I went on my season opening camping adventure and she still hasn’t let me on her blog!
She says she’s been busy. Sure mama. I think she just doesn’t want me to tell you about it in case you get jealous of all the fun I’m having. That’s what I think. So anyway, mama is outside weeding and I figured I could sneak in here and show you, cause she’ll be too tired when she gets back inside to even notice I was messing around with her laptop. You can click on any of the photos to see them better.
We went right down the road to our local state park which was lucky because it was really really hot the four days we were out there and in the middle of each day we got to come home to get out of the sun! In fact mama had to come home a couple of times to get stuff she forgot! I don’t think she was very organize but don’t tell her I noticed. I don’t want her to feel bad. But I hope makes a list of what to take next time, because we’re going camping far far away pretty soon!
We were camping in the woods and the spring flowers were blooming. Trillium and geranium were everywhere! This next picture is mama’s favorite from the trip. (Make sure you click on it so you can see beautiful me even better!) She made me sit here for a looooong time and then I didn’t even get a treat! Mama says she’s cutting back on treats, and I can understand that for her, but I don’t think it’s fair that I have to go on a diet too.
One day my friend Deuce and his mom stopped by and we went for a walk in the woods together. We didn’t go real far because it was so warm, but we went far enough so that Deuce could see what a beautiful woods it is. He likes to get on top of stuff, like logs and rocks. I don’t like to do that so much so I just stayed with my mom who was busy taking pictures. For once it wasn’t me she was making pose!
Then they stayed into the evening and mama made a big fire. She said it was the best fire ever, because Deuce’s mom brought her some fire starter! The moms made themselves treats…
… and they didn’t even share! I think that is just unforgivable, don’t you? Deuce and I were very good though and only begged a little. Then he got to sit on his mom’s lap while they watched the fire. I asked my mom if I could go take a nap in the tent but she ignored me so I went off and slept under the picnic table while they talked.
By the time we went to bed I was totally exhusted! Mama said I slept in some pretty weird ways that night…
…and she can’t figure out how this is comfortable at all:
We had a lot of fun camping near the woods. We went on lots of walks, and took lots of naps.
It was almost perfect. Perfect would be if we were near a big lake. At least that’s what mama says.
On Thursday, before the big Memorial Day weekend, mama packed up. I was not so happy for her to dismantle my camp! But she promises that we’ll be out there in my tent again soon!
I can’t wait to see where she takes me next!
Memorial Day memories
As a kid I was never really comfortable at these events. I didn’t know the children of my parents’ friends and we had little in common. Some of us were shy and introverted, me included. I remember liking the adults a lot better than the kids, and hanging around the dinner table listening to their talk and laughter. The adults had a great time reminiscing and catching up. I can’t say that any of the kids looked forward to the day.
I do remember eating well. And I remember my mother’s summer staple – potato salad. In fact the last time I visited her down in Alabama I asked how she made it and she told me. I didn’t write it down. I figured I’d remember, and besides, I could always ask again. Or so I thought.
I’ve been experimenting, trying to get it right for years. I’ve asked lots of people what they put in their potato salad, and I think I’ve almost got it figured out. So today while remembering those Memorial Days of fifty years ago, I made potato salad, complete with the snipped chives from my garden, almost exactly the way Mom made it. With a little of my mother-in-law’s version thrown in.
I haven’t tasted it yet…it’s settling into itself in the fridge at the moment; I think it needs some time to meld. But I’m hoping when we have some tonight I’ll remember only the good times from past Memorial Days. I hope all those kids I didn’t know have grown up to be happy adults with kids and grand-kids of their own, and that they have better memories of those college reunion picnics than I do.
And I hope their potato salad always turns out exactly the way their moms used to make it.
Healing doesn’t mean you aren’t grieving anymore
In the beginning you believe the worst possible thing that has just happened to you and your family is the absolute worst possible thing ever. That no family, no person can possibly be grieving as deeply as you are. And time passes and your focus shifts slightly beyond your own searing pain and you see that someone else is hurting too. That others have experienced similar events.
That it’s not all about you.
And that’s the first baby step to healing. That realization that you are not alone, that others have similar stories, similar, though not exact, pain.
I’ve started reading Cheryl Strayed’s “Brave Enough.” I’m not very far into it — barely started in fact — and already this quote of hers makes me stop and reread. And nod in agreement. And read it again. And want to share it with all of you.
“”When you recognize that you will thrive not in spite of your losses and sorrows, but because of them, that you would not have chosen the things that happened in your life, but you are grateful for them, that you will hold the empty bowls eternally in your hands, but you also have the capacity to fill them? The word for that is healing.”
And now, not an hour later, I’m reading a blog written by a woman who has been through trials most of us couldn’t imagine, including the sudden death of her husband a year ago. A line down near the bottom of the post stops me again. And makes me want to share it (and her) with you.
“Emotions don’t get better. We get better at holding them. They don’t get less heavy, we get stronger.”
Both women are right. Out of trials and loss and grief and pain we get stronger. And often we grow in directions we might never have moved without the experiences that left indelible scars on our souls.
I never wanted nor dreamed of the losses that changed our family. But given that’s the way it is, I’m pleased to continue the growth, spawned but not defined, by life events.
Wherever you are in the cycle of life, I hope you can see the light and hope and growth shining ahead of you. If you need a hand up, there are plenty of people willing to take hold. And if you’ve moved into a good place yourself, glance around once in awhile. Someone might be there, just in the shadow, ready to move, but needing a little nudge.
I’ll get off the soapbox now.
Wordless Wednesday
Bits of this and that
Katie and I are officially camping right now. Only we’re not.
I have the last concert of the season tonight, dress rehearsal was last night. So after rehearsal, late in the night, I gathered her up and we drove over to the State Park where I have a campsite reserved.
Katie was very confused. I woke her up out of a sound sleep when I got home, asked her if she wanted to go camping, she ran to the back door very excited to camp in the back yard, and I picked her up and put her in the car! Oh no she thought! Where are we going? This can’t be good! This is not normal! I like normal!

What’s going on mama? (This is from last year because I haven’t taken the camera to camp yet this trip!)
Once at our campsite, in the dark with only stars overhead she sniffed a bit, wanted to go on a long walk (which I vetoed…it’s good to be the mama) and finally consented to getting in the tent. But she wouldn’t settle down. This was not right! It smelled different! What are we doing mama? Where are we? Why are we here? Where’s my daddy?!?!
Eventually she settled down and we both shivered through the cold night until 5:30 when, according to Sheltie rules, it is important to be wide awake. So we went out, walked down to the bath house, both of us did what we needed to do and we walked back to the tent and went back to sleep.
It all worked out.
But now we’re back at the house while I get ready for tonight’s concert. She seems very sleepy. I am too.
We’re playing a bunch of music tonight, and will be joined by selected 7th graders for two pieces. They came to rehearsal last night; they are very good and play like they’re in high school. Oh but the drama of it all! I’d forgotten what it was like to be in 7th grade, so confident, so giggly, so out there. They made our band sound great and it will be fun to preform with them tonight.
And totally unrelated, this happened a couple of mornings ago at home.
A good friend painted the mockingbird on the rock when my parents died. It’s a long story, but I consider the mockingbird to represent my mom, and when one pops up around me I always say hi because it feels like a visit from her.
And the rainbow? Well, after mom died someone in dad’s church gave him a little prism that on sunny days spread a rainbow across his kitchen. That’s still on the windowsill of our lake house. This particular rainbow was created by the sun shining through my front door. I’ve never seen it before, and certainly not shining on mom’s mockingbird.
So I figure I got a joint visit this week. Made me smile pretty wide.
Hope it makes you smile too.
WordPress Photo Challenge: Jubilant
In our household when you think jubilant you can only picture one thing.
To see other interpretations of ‘jubilant’ check out the original post. Or, take a peek at a few of my favorites so far here, here, and here.
I hope there is a little jubilation in your life this week! Katie and I have planned an adventure. I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it soon.
Blinded by the dark
The power went out sometime during the night, and we sleep with blackout blinds so the bedroom is pitch black when I wake. I reach around for Katie and find her upside down at my feet. Wondering what time it is I get up to look for my phone but I’m afraid to leave Katie on the bed in the blackness. She resists me picking her up but finally is safe on the floor as we inch out to the living room which is illuminated a bit by the outside gray.
It’s 4:30 a.m.
Our ‘automatic’ generator is not running but I can hear one chugging away somewhere down the street. A big truck with squeaky brakes and a rumbling diesel engine is out on the road, flashers and headlights glowing as electric company employees look for the problem.
Katie growls and barks.
With nothing we can do to fix the problem I carry Katie back to the bedroom, close the door so husband can poke around with a flashlight, and we settle back to sleep. Or not. Katie is restless and I’m afraid of her falling off the bed. But she wants to be close. My little non-snuggling dog presses her hip against mine and gives a big sigh, a sign she’s going back to sleep. But then she’s up, carefully picking her way across pillows to lay near my head, licking my arm and panting. She wants to hold my hand in her mouth, but I gently disengage and scratch her ears. She curls up against my shoulder and sighs again. Then moves slightly away and whimpers a bit. I wonder how much she can see, whether she thinks she has lost her sight. I wonder if being blind would bother her.
And so we wait, Katie and I, we wait for the light to return.
And then…the first hint. The solitary warble of our robin, first tentatively, then stronger, then bursting into full song. The crack between the blinds and the window casing lightens just a bit. The freeway, a mile away, begins to hum.
Katie sighs contentedly and rolls over as I get up to raise the blinds and let the morning in.
Williamsburg – Katie’s version
Katie here. Mama says she’s too busy weeding the garden to tell you about Wiliamsburg even though she’s promised more than once to do just that. Mama makes promises all the time and then doesn’t do the stuff she promised. Like take a certain dog to a park. If you know what I mean.
Anyway, I guess it’s up to me to tell you what I heard about mama and daddy’s day at the colonial village, even though I’m still mad at them for going there without me. I hear it’s a dog friendly place! They said they saw lots of doggies there and I don’t understand one little bit why I couldn’t go.
Ahem…
So mama said she was very interested in all the places they visited, and particularly took lots of pictures of the people that were explaining the different houses and occupations. Like the lady that was showing how residents used to spin the yarn…
…and the woman that was weaving thread into fabric.
They visited a lot of houses too, this one was the home of Payton Randolph who was the first president of the Continental Congress. She described how the slaves interacted with their owners inside affluent homes like this one, and how some owners gave their slaves freedom while others did not.
Their personal slaves slept on pallets outside the owners bedrooms.
The governor’s palace was pretty spectacular too.
The foyer was lined with swords and guns as a sign of wealth and power.
And the Capitol Building was amazing. It held two sides of government, the Colonialists and the King’s representation. They each had their own side of the building, but met in the center, up above the arches, to discuss policy.
But mostly mama and daddy visited and talked to people that represented the regular day-to-day lives of people. Like this little boy selling lettuce from the back of a wagon…
…and this silversmith making a bowl.
There were lots of people interacting with the tourists. This guy was explaining a battle, using stones and twigs, to a group of children.
He made it into a game letting them make strategic decisions. Mama said they were all having a great time trying to win the battle.
Mama said there were lots of pretty little places too, gardens tucked into spots behind houses, or out along the street.
It was a beautiful spring day. Not too hot, not too cool. Seems to me it would have been a perfect day for a certain sheltie-girl to go for a walk with her folks in an historic village. Just saying. It’s not like mama didn’t pet a sheltie or two or three while she was there!
That’s right. I know she cheated on me! This is exactly why I’m still giving her the cold shoulder, not that she’s noticed or anything.
OK. Enough whining. Back to the tour.
Mama and daddy also went to a concert that evening at this church.
Lots of famous people have attended church here. People like George Washington and Thomas Jefferson. And President Reagan and Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.
Mama and daddy sat in Thomas Jefferson’s pew to listen to an oboe and organ candlelit concert. It was nice even though mama said the seats were very uncomfortable, I guess to keep people awake in church!
The other musical thing they got to see was the pipe and drum parade.
Everyone enjoyed watching and listening to them pass by…even people (and dogs) inside!
All in all I guess mama and daddy had a wonderful time even without me. They said they were looking out for my best interests when they scheduled me for camp instead of going with them. But I think they just wanted to keep all the fun for themselves. I’m going to protest louder if they do this again. I might even hire these guys to play outside their bedroom window for a few nights in a row.
That might work.
Meanwhile I guess I should forgive mama. I guess I can take the higher road. Especially if it leads me to a park.


















































