Tag Archives: Michigan

March On

19 Mar

When it comes to trips down Memory Dirt Road, the last ten days of March are quite a tourist trap.  It’s mostly filled with stopping spots from the paved portion of my life, though.  Here’s a list of some of what you might see along the next dozen days:

In March of 2001 I made my first ever trip to Michigan when I flew up for an interview at Our Savior Lutheran.  I was blown away by their singing and kindness, and I met the seventh and eighth grade teacher.  We even had lunch together (with the entire Pastor’s family chaperoning) at Steak ‘n’ Shake before his big dinner theater and my flight out of town.  Okay, in all honesty it wasn’t anything close to a date, but we did relive those fries and burgers for several years to follow, because . . .

By this time in 2002 we were engaged.  Shocked?  It was speedy-wonderful.  I recommend it to everyone.  Well, okay, almost everyone.

Two years later my first nephew was born.  Okay, technically I have another nephew who was born first, but since I was three at the time, and didn’t meet him until we were both in our twenties and I married his uncle, his birth didn’t quite pack the same punch.  But Owen’s birth – that was a game-changer.  That made me an aunt, gave Simeon a cousin and Best Buddy, and brought me even closer to my sister than I imagined.

And the end of last March was a whirlwind of events.  First, my dear friends and I began a DIY Master’s Program otherwise known as “the book blog.”  You can find it here, just in case you’ve missed it in the past.  We started by reading Don Quixote. Who does that?  We do.  Now we’re reading Moby-Dick.  Yes, really.  And here’s the weirdest part – it’s not the least bit boring.  Not at all.  It’s an honest-to-goodness hoot.  Try it.

Then, before Sancho could even holler, “Look out for the windmills!” my last nephew was born.  I’m not declaring Henry the Official Last, for I have not that power, but I plan on spoiling him like he is, just in case.

And then, because I thought my sister didn’t have enough to do with a newborn around the house, we started this blog.  Yup, our blogiversary is coming up next week, and that’s actually what got my mind Marching through all these wonderful occurrences.  This blog has been great for those two things, making me demand unreasonable things from my supermom of a sister, and bringing back old memories that make us smile, ask lots of questions, and laugh and laugh.


By Both of Us

To Verb, or not to Verb

9 Feb

Things I (We) Love:  Verbs

Wait, wouldn’t it be more appropriate if it read . . .

Things I (We) Love To Do:  Verb

It bothers me that verb is a noun.  It can even be made into an adjective, but it can’t, at least not in Merriam-Websterland, be a verb.  Verb can’t verb.  It’s all wrong.

But don’t worry, I still believe in verbing.  In fact, you might have noticed, I verb a lot while writing.  You know of what I speak, right?  It’s like this:

I love Michigan because although it lightnings and thunders, it doesn’t often tornado.

(It’s true.  As a child I had plans to move to tornado-free Alaska, but the Mitten State has done a good job of showing its fury in terms of blizzards, not cyclones.  I don’t mind living in gray-scale several months of the year if it means I don’t have to endure the dizzying trip to Oz.)

Okay, here’s another example of verbing:

Ugh, I just decontacted myself.

(No, really, I did.  I rubbed my itchy eyes, and just like that, both flimsy little lenses fell – one to my lap, and the other to the floor.)

Alright, one more example:

Look at this!  My daughter’s hair pigtailed!

(Betcha thought that was just a sentence fragment.   Nope, both subject and predicate are accounted for.  Plus, I can’t resist an opportunity to post a gratuitous picture of Cecilia’s hair.)

In summary, my friends, it’s okay to verb.

Well, unless you’d rather grammar.


Head over Heels

27 Oct

I’ll let you in on a little secret:  I’m not a huge fan of trees.  Individually, I find them quite nice, but all together, very intimidating.  The way they block the horizon messes with my need for wide open spaces.  I also blame them for sending my internal compass spinning.  The need to know north is crucial, and while one tree acts as a great reference point,  a whole bunch of them simply serve to confuse and confuddle.

Now I hear that there are some people who can live without knowing what direction they’re facing at all times.  I am not one of these people.  Never have been.  Never will be.  But that might be another post.  Today’s post is actually about trees.  Sort of.

You see, it’s Things I (We) Love Thursday and . . .

And it’s hard to love fall without loving trees.  Leaves in Michigan are so beautiful that I can even tolerate a handfull of trees all at once.  But I still prefer to take them in one at a time.  For instance, check out this great tree that has just one branch that’s turned.

I didn’t even know that was possible prior to my move to the Mitten State.  And here’s something else that took me by surprise:  One leaf is capable of being several colors at once.

Also, leaves make a very nice fall craft medium.

My children like them for their shock absorbing effects.

I’m a really big fan of 80-degree fall days that let you partake in color at the beach.

(I know.  You’re doubting that picture aren’t you?  You think I photoshopped it.  Guess what?  It’s legit.  We absolutely, truly, really went to lake Michigan in October.  And swam.  Swam.  Not kidding.  Well, the kids got wet, we adults just basked on the beach.)

All of this beauty brings me to the following concession.  The glowing branches overhead probably make up for any sunsets that have been hidden by masses of foliage.  And our van does have a built in compass to point me east when I feel like we’ve been driving north so long in the U.P. that we ought to be in the middle of Lake Superior.  But I am still confused by one thing.  I can’t seem to find the forest.