Yes, I Still Drive....but Hoedowns are More Fun

Have you ever have one of those weeks that has you moving every second? No time to catch your breath or watch the news or go for that daily walk that is desperately needed to keep the weight from grabbing on to your hips for dear life. A half dozen others living here in my continuing care complex walk past my window every night around 7:00---and in the early morning, too, but I'm not up to see that parade. I need to get on that exercise train but time goes by and I have my long list of excuses. Some weeks my exercise consists of nothing more than walking back and forth between the next building where our meals are served and all activities take place.

This week I drove twenty minutes out of town to get an oil change at a Chevy dealership in a two-block long town, avoiding the another Chevy dealership less than four minutes from my apartment because it's on second busiest street in Michigan (and their 'waiting room' is a couch in the garage next to your car that is sitting in the oil change bay. Who thinks that's a good idea?) I avoid the second busiest street at all costs because according to state statistics our seven mile long stretch of the State Trunkline Highway carries an average of 42,000 vehicles each day. All but twelve years of my life I've lived within three-four blocks of this street. I've watched it grow from a gravel two lane road to a five lane hub of stores, gas stations, quality restaurants and fast food drive-thru's, specialty shops and big box stores.  Confessions like that make me sound old, don't they!

I've seen it all on this street---accidents, road rage, police stand offs, traffic jams, drunks, a robbery in real time, construction zones and the year it got shut down because of a blizzard. Don and I and the rest of our snowplow crew plowed our way to our contracted parking lots that year which also helped out the emergency vehicles and snowmobiles trying to transport essential workers to where they had to go. I had to drive this congested stretch of road back and forth to work for twelve years and most of my life it was unavoidable to get to any where I needed to go. Now, in the twilight of my life, I can drive straight south across it and find the back road that shadows the trunkline and provides back door access to the only places I ever go along it---Trader Joe's, Hobby Lobby, the bookstore and Dollar General. At my age I'm picky when and where I drive. No left turns if I can avoid them. No downtown driving, No night driving. No rush hour driving. No bad weather driving. No highways and definitely not that State Trunkline.

Also this week the management here in my CCC had what they called a 'Hoedown' and it was more fun than any of us expected. The lobby was filled with straw bales and an almost full-sized stuffed horse with a real saddle on it. I did not try to mount it for a photo but others did and no one left blood on the floor when they dismounted. The food served was pulled pork sandwiches, baked beans, scalloped potatoes and strawberry short cake. Our line-dancers were pressed into the role of entertainers and there was a four piece band with a banjo, two fiddlers and an acoustic bass.  

But the best part of the evening was seeing how everyone got into creating a costume. Lots of flannel shirts, blue jeans, cowboy boots, neck scarves and even a few genuine cowboy hats were pressed into service. I still have my husband's favorite Stetson but I opted instead to tie a scarf around my head. Not just any scarf. It was from Willie Nelson's 1985 Farm Aid concert that was attended by 80,000 and it raised seven million dollars for the farmers who were in the worst crisis since the Great Depression.

The scarf was signed by the over 50 singers who were on stage during the concert---both big names and up and coming super stars. The scarf was a fun reminded to those who remembered those Willie Nelson concerts and on the other hand, it was interesting noting those who had no idea there had even been a crisis back in the '80s that put so many of our farmers out of business. I'm always amazing when I run across something I thought was common knowledge and it turns out not to be.

This week the management also had what they call a "Teaching Kitchen" which I'm guessing is just something they do every other month so we'll get to know the chef better and/or because it's nearly free entertainment to fill a slot on the calendar. The last one was on pickling veggies and I still have two jars sitting in my refrigerator from that session. This week's class was on making no-bake cookies and the bag of cookies I left with were gone in two days. 

Crafter-noon was also on the schedule this week. It's when anyone who is working on any craft---sewing, knitting, art project, etc.---gets together to talk as we work. It's not very well attended but I use the opportunity to cut out quilt pieces that I've been hand sewing together in front of the TV at night. The craft building has a well-lite, huge table that's a dream to work on. Even though a couple of times I've been the only person to show up for Crafter-noon, I like the fact that it reminds me twice a month to keep working on the last quilt I'll ever make.

Yesterday I joined an off-campus outing to a near-by town to see an exhibit of advertising art. Three of the women who live here worked in the art department of Herman Miller and some of their past creations were in this retrospect. If you love mid-century modern furniture, you'd pay to tour their apartments.

To round out my week, my youngest niece, gave me a gift of both her time and her expertise as a professional house cleaner. She cleaned and organized all the lower cabinets in my apartment. After nearly three years of living here they'd gotten messy. She also washed the faces of all my cupboards (uppers and lowers) in the kitchen, bath and laundry room. Spending time with family reconnects me with my past in a way nothing else ever does so our conversation was the icing on the cake---the cake being a metaphor for a lovely week. ©

Until Next Wednesday!

I do not take good selfies! But at least you can see my version of a Hoedown costume.

Favorite Places and Widow's Tears

 

Saugatuck, 1895

I needed a mini vacation and I got one last weekend when my niece and I went over to Lake Michigan to my favorite town, Saugatuck, to spend the afternoon driving the road along the beach to see the “cottages” and the waves crashing on shore before window shopping the Main Street shops and having lunch at the oldest restaurant on the coastline. When we left the city, headed to the Big Lake, it was sunny and light jacket or sweater weather. The fall colors were starting to show and Saugatuck was busy with others also wanting to get one last walk-around in this tourist town before the shops close up until spring. A lot of the stores we walked by were selling their stock for 75% off but all I bought was a jar of American Spoon apple butter which as far as I can tell never goes on sale. You could spend a fortune at American Spoon with all their yummy preserves, butters and curds. It’s a small, Michigan artisan brand with a big reputation and a healthy mail order service.  

The town itself was the first one settled in the county but long before it was a town, the first white settle came there by boat to build a log cabin on the mouth of the Kalamazoo River in 1830 where Mr. Butler and his wife traded sugar and whisky for game and furs with the Indians. Three years later they were joined by another white settle who opened up a tannery near-by. Lumberjacks were the next to come along. The log cabin Mr. Butler built has been a bar and restaurant ever since those long ago days and it still bears his name although the log building itself has been rebuilt after a fire or two and no doubt has expanded its size. 

When we got to The Butler we had to wait at the bar before we could get a table. The Detroit Lions were playing the Minnesota Vikings on a large screen TV just over our shoulders and there were a dozen hardcore football fans cheering and jeering while looking in our direction. A couple of young ladies were bantering back and forth about taking their differences outside. I could care less about any sport but I thought if we sat there long enough I’d find some blogging fodder. It’s been a long time since I’ve been surrounded by sports fans watching a game and I loved their animation but it’s too bad they weren’t watching the University of Minnesota game. It would have been interesting to watch this gang react to seeing Casey O’Brien getting The Hug from his college coach after holding the ball for the kicker in Sunday’s game. He’s a four-time cancer survivor with a back story that makes the sports casters’ jobs easy. That hug and Casey's backstory was all over the media. 

A good share of the tables at The Butler over-look the mouth of the river and a marina which---along with their good food---keeps people coming back year after year. Like a lot of tourist towns, it’s hard to find many businesses open in the dead of winter, but The Butler is one that never closes for the season. My husband and I used to do this same little mini trip on clear, January nights when the town looks like something out of a Bing Cosby Classic Christmas movie with its left over holiday lights giving extra sparkle to the snow covered and empty streets. In the winter The Butler can be counted on to have a collection of hardy locals lined up along the bar and snowmobiles rather than cars parked outside.

The last time we were there, my niece had the special---liver and onions---which is something my mom used to make once a week. I hated liver and onion nights but my niece likes the yucky stuff and she joked about my mom being there with us. This year it was a spooky coincidence (or was it?) that the special happened to be another reminder of Mom---pot roast and mashed potatoes. She served it often and The Butler’s special tasted just like Mom's did, confirming its moniker as a ‘comfort food’ in our family.

I was listening to the radio while waiting to hook up with my niece the day we went to Lake Michigan when George Strait came through the speaker singing, “…It's time to say goodbye to yesterday. This is where the cowboy rides away…” and out of the blue tears trickled down my cheeks. I had my husband’s Stetson cowboy hat listed for sale at the time and I wasn’t sure I’d get hold of myself by the time my niece appeared. I did, but I ended up telling her about those lyrics making me cry anyway. The mini vacation turned out to be a great day for conversation between two people who trust one another with each other’s life struggles and joyful thoughts and all manner of human experiences in between. ©

Oh But it was Worth it!

I knew downsizing would get to me eventually so when an invitation came to go to an out-of-town wedding, I sent my RSVP card back marked ‘yes’ before I could change my mind about giving myself a mini vacation. It was close enough that I could have done it without an overnight stay but that would have had me driving after dark which is something I’ve been avoiding for a couple of years now. So I went with Plan B which involved me inviting myself to stay the night at my niece’s cottage. The cottage is ten minutes away from the wedding venue so I got to see both sides of my family on the same day, killing two birds with one stone. To be clear I’m talking in metaphors here. No bird died even though a flock of wild turkeys looked death in the eye by crossing my path while I was driving in the boondocks. It was touch and go there for a few minutes while they took their sweet-ass time and I was jamming on my breaks. 

I’ve always enjoyed being in the country this time of the year. Seeing the Canadian geese squawking their way across the sky, the wild turkeys and pheasants that for some crazy reason seem to like being alongside the roads, and the Sandhill cranes out in the fields looking for corn left behind from the harvest are common sights and signs that summer is giving over to fall. I even got to see a family of deer crossing the road not fifty feet in front of my car which sounds like there should be a joke involving about why they did it. But the punchline isn't that funny; there was water on the other side of the road.

It was an out-of-ordinary venue for a wedding---an Indian casino---for the bride’s third wedding and the groom’s first. The place was picked because the location was central to the guests who had to come from different parts of the state. She’s a great-niece on my husband’s side of the family and she had a tumultuous first marriage and a second marriage that ended tragically. There are decades in between us but her widowhood came close on the heels of mine so we often got seated next to each other at family parties. Funny how that works out. Together but alone in a crowd. Then last year she showed up at the Christmas party with the man she just married.

Back to my side of the family: I spent my summers growing up at the cottage my niece now owns, so my inviting myself to stay overnight was not a stretch of etiquette. Since the day she bought it, I’ve had a standing invitation to use the place anytime I want. I went early so we’d get some visiting time in before I had to leave for the 5:30 ceremony. I was only at the wedding a few hours before I had to leave or be forced to drive back to the cottage after dark when small, furry animals would have risked becoming my road kill, but it was enough time to cover the wedding basics. The casino has a huge buffet where we ate and ate and ate. And after the wait staff cleared the dishes away and the cake was cut they gave us each a ten dollar coupon to play the slots. That emptied out the private room they’d rented of just about everyone but the bride, her three her kids---who weren’t allowed on the casino floor---and the asthmatics. 

Smoke has been known to give me asthma attacks and although smoking is no longer allowed in any other public places in Michigan, Indian casinos are exempted. I’m guessing this 147 acre place has become a mecca for sucking on cigarettes. Just getting to the private room from valet parking where I was told to park, I had to walk the entire length of the casino---past all 2,000 slots machines, a wifi café---whatever that is---all the table games and the glass-fronted poker rooms. The smoke was overwhelming and the people sitting in the dim-lite casino in front of the slot machines with their dancing neon lights didn’t look like they were having fun. Their glassy-eyed stares made me feel sorry for them. And I kind of felt sorry for the bride when her guests scattered like roaches once they got their coupons. 

When I got home I found a message on my answering machine from Levi’s kennel. “Levi is okay,” the owner said right out of the gate but they’d lost their power and a few trees on their wooded acreage. There had been tornado warning that forced everyone down to their basements and a neighborhood in between where I live and the kennel had lost some roof tops to straight line winds. Less than a mile away from the kennel a wide path of trees had been mowed down like grass in a public park, but the kennel has sound-proof walls so the boarders didn’t hear the wind whipping through the pines, or so the kennel owner assured me. Levi was glad to see me and even happier to get in the car to leave. 

Money Spent: $96 for two nights and three days for Levi's kennel, $40 for a wedding gift, $5 to tip the valet and $40 on a new blouse. Now I have to get back to my downsizing to help defray the cost of my mini vacation. Oh but it was worth it, just seeing the morning come across the lake of my youth slowly revealing the sailboat masts and the docks extending over the water whispered to my soul and reminded me of how grateful I am for the childhood my parents gave me and my brother. Now my granny-nanny niece is doing the same for her two grandsons and I got to see them interact up close and personal during my time spent at the cottage. But I'm lucky I didn't come home with teething marks and slobber on my shoes. The baby loved my shiny Mary Janes. ©