Weekend Mason blogging

Or, “what I did on our vacation…”

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Y'all can call me Shady!

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Hey, these floaties keep me out of the water!
Time to go for a swim…

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Yes, wearing ice cream is half the fun!

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Man, it's been a long day… I guess
I'll rest a minute… ZZZzzzZZZzzz…

Vacation, pt 2: Badger Badger Badger

Lake Michigan was unusually calm while I was in Manitowoc, and that was one more reason to take the freshwater ocean route to Michigan via the S.S. Badger. The Badger is a “car ferry,” originally built  60 years ago for the C&O railroad, hauling rail cars across Lake Michigan to bypass the über-busy Chicago railyards. We’re talking some serious iron here:

Image source: official S.S. Badger site

With the decline in rail traffic, Chicago railyards aren’t as congested as they once were, and C&O eventually abandoned its maritime operations. But there was a demand for carrying the other kind of cars, the ones that we drive everywhere, and a group of people bought the ship and continue to operate it. Unofficially, it’s part of US10; the highway runs from Bay City to Ludington and then from Manitowoc to points west. The ship sports a US10 logo on the stern, which I thought was a fun touch. During the summer, the ship makes two round-trips across the lake per day.

Given the vintage of the ship, it’s a coal-fired steamer. In my opinion, these are the best museum pieces, the ones still doing something close to what they were built to do in the first place. The Badger has a small museum on board, depicting the history of both maritime shipping and the railroads’ maritime passenger systems. Many of the small staterooms are still available to rent along the way—which probably makes more sense on the nighttime crossing, but sometimes you need a mid-afternoon nap.

There’s a couple acres of coalyard adjacent to the Badger’s dock, and this truck hauled at least three loads of coal on board before we departed.

So I bought my ticket and turned my car over to the valets (or whatever the maritime equivalent is), then boarded the ship. In my estimation, the amenities are overkill for a four-hour trip, but I might have thought differently if it hadn’t been perfect outdoor weather. As it was, I spent most of the crossing on the foredeck, lounging on a deck chair and reading—with a little timeout for checking out the rest of the ship. They have two TV rooms, a movie room, a playroom for small kids, the mini-museum, two cafeterias, and plenty of indoor (and outdoor) seating. There weren’t a lot of people on the port side, though, since the wind was blowing the coal smoke right down that side of the ship. They also have wifi, but I didn’t bother.

Eventually, we reached Ludington. It took about half an hour to debark and get my car. I grabbed some food and got on the road, and was at Dad’s after about two and a half hours. It was only after getting here that I found out about another car ferry that goes between Milwaukee and Muskegon, and takes only two hours to make the crossing. I don’t know how much it cost, though, and this was easier with regard to where I was leaving from. Next time we all go to Michigan, we might take the weekend “cruise” across the lake to Manitowoc and stay with The Boy, then go back. We could leave the car and save some money that way.

At Dad’s, I… well, that’s the next post!

Vacation pt 1: Manitowoc

Awwww…

So it was just over two weeks ago when I loaded a tote bag, computer bag, camera bag, and cooler into Daughter Dearest’s car and pointed the nose north. Of course, I’d planned to leave around 10am, but it was closer to 1pm before departure. I had to pick up my BP/cholesterol meds early, and the wife was reluctant to let her slave labor the love of her life go away for so long. But go I did—I was on a mission, although I didn't realize it until I was already there.

I did manage to make the Columbus IN exit around bedtime, and settled on a Motel 6 for the night. The tall, tall sign, visible from the freeway, promised rooms starting at $44.99. I had to ask the desk clerk about that when she handed me the bill for $60. “Oh,” she said, “that’s the weekday rate for a single room.”

“Seems like you should change the sign for the weekend,” I suggested, not being overtly confrontational… yet.

“We can’t see it from here, and something’s screwed up.” Yeah, I think it was a fatal error in the morals circuitry. I haven’t emailed their corporate offices about it yet, but I will. I will. Misleading is the nice word.

The next morning was better—I met the couple that are affectionately called “the Fs” on their blog, for breakfast. All too soon, I was on the road again. But this time, instead of veering onto US31, I stayed on I-65. I got to geek out over the enormous wind farm south of Gary—hundreds of turbines on both sides of the freeway, for miles and miles—before getting stuck in Chicago traffic on a Sunday afternoon. I managed to make Wisconsin before needing gas, and tanked up for the final leg up I-43 to Manitowoc. North of Milwaukee, traffic was stopped up going south, but northbound was mostly clear sailing. I got to The Boy’s place in time for supper.

As always, The Boy has a crowd of colorful characters gathered around him. J (fourth from left), who also came from Planet Georgia and lived at FAR Manor for a little while, left Kentucky for Wisconsin at the beginning of the new year. He’s now The Boy’s official roomie. J’s new girlfriend Courtney lives at the apartment with him, and she says others have been coming around more often now that The Boy and Snippet are broke up. That has been six weeks and counting—probably the best thing for them both. Had I planned to go straight back to Planet Georgia from Manitowoc, I would have contacted Snippet and offered her a ride back. She wasn’t all that thrilled to move up north to begin with, you know. But, since I wasn’t going straight back, I didn’t contact her and we didn’t run into her.

Anyway, they live in a largish old house that’s been separated into three or four apartments. It’s not upscale by any means, but in reasonable shape for young working-class guys and surprisingly clean. He keeps night-shift hours, so I would get up in the morning and creep out to the porch to eat breakfast and write. That worked out well; the others would start moving around at 10:30 or so, about the time I was about wrote out for the morning.

THAT is a lake.

One question I was asked often, “are you taking the ferry across the lake?” The ferry leaves Manitowoc and crosses Lake Michigan (seen behind us) to Ludington. It’s a four-hour jaunt, and not cheap ($150, half for me and half for the car), but I’d get back $30 or $40 in gas and avoid all that traffic. I figured the travel time would be pretty close, but it was four hours I wouldn’t have to drive myself.

Of course, since we were right on Lake Michigan, we had to go to the beach. The weather was beautiful, and I wish I was still there.

On Tuesday night, I got a call from Other Brother. “Bad news,” he said. “Uncle John passed away yesterday. His viewing is Thursday night and the funeral is Friday. Are you going to be here for that?” Then the fun one: “Oh, and Dad totaled his car Thursday.” So at least I could be there not only for the funeral, but to make sure Dad got there.

Wednesday morning, I got The Boy some groceries (“I’m about over the thing with Snippet,” he said) and we had a quick lunch before I boarded the ferry. That’s tomorrow’s installment.

Staycation 2011, Days 0–2

Work has a strange policy: they let you carry over two weeks of vacation per year. But everyone gets three weeks, plus a week of personal days and floating holidays, so (if you carried over two weeks from last year) you pretty much have to burn off a month’s worth of vacation to keep from losing any. The upshot is, the office gets awfully empty the second half of December.

We were hoping to get down to Florida to visit Mom before Christmas, but I couldn’t ever get anyone to nail down the days they were off… so maybe we’ll go next month. At least with the chicken houses in permanent shutdown, there won’t be that to contend with — but I have full faith in Mrs. Fetched’s ability to find some other timesuck to throw me into.

With Mason around, I’m already watching him nearly all weekend, every weekend. This weekend was typical in that regard. After a haircut trip yesterday, I zipped over to the bank to deposit a check and that was the closest thing approaching free time I had. Mason refused to take an afternoon nap, so I had none of the time I expected for writing this post yesterday. Then Mrs. Fetched and Daughter Dearest took off on a shopping trip, leaving us to find our own supper. I know Mason likes Subway’s meatballs, so we went there… and they were out of meatballs. I headed up to Johnny’s, where the food’s good but the service is glacial, and got us some chow. Then it was off to Chick-Fil-A, the only fast-food joint around here with an indoor playground, to let Mason burn off some energy.

One thing about Mason: he has a near-fetish for straight lines. He’ll line his cars up in a neat little row, then have a Toddler Meltdown™ when they don’t stay straight when he pushes the line. On modern playgrounds, with their tunnels and spiral slides, he’ll go through a straight tunnel — but if he can’t see the other end, he won’t go in. So he would go up the stairs, then come down and go poke around in the toddler area. Meanwhile, a little girl about three months younger than him was roaring down the spiral slide and having a good old time. Didn’t make the slightest impression on him.

So I’m not sure what happened — maybe some other kids chivvied him through the bent tunnel into the upper level — but he ended up in the enclosed area up top and started crying, because he wouldn’t go down the slide and he wouldn’t go back down the tunnel where he couldn’t see the outlet. I had to climb in there and talk him down; if he could see me, he was fine.

He also refused to nap today — and I had to make rolls for the supper after our church cantata — but I chucked him in his crib anyway until I got the dough thrown together. He was not exactly happy about that, but he got over it pretty quick once I came in and got him out. I got the rolls done just in time — I mean, we were out the door as soon as I threw them in a paper bag — and my throat survived the singing.

Tomorrow, I hope to do some yard work and some writing. Not necessarily in that order. The Boy and Snippet will be here for Christmas proper — or maybe I should say improper — so there might be a little soap opera-kind of post this weekend.

Mason Gets a Boat Ride

Up at the resort. Mrs. Fetched, after giving me Friday night to myself, gave me Mason all day yesterday and today. We’ve had a good time; we signed out a paddleboat yesterday afternoon and he got his first(?) boat ride:

We went to the pool after supper. There was another family there, with two ten-ish kids who thought Mason was truly the World’s Cutest Grandkid. The boy even held him for a moment, before Mason suddenly got anxious about it.

We’ve taken a couple long walks (well, I did the walking and pushed him in the stroller). Right now, we’re at the clubhouse where he’s working his way through a shelf full of toys and I’m scarfing the wifi.

(Late) Wednesday Wibbles

I got no new followers this week, so I don’t have anyone to shout at. Spread the word, folks, I’d like to have 100 followers about the time I publish White Pickups so I’ll have a good excuse for a giveaway.

Not much writing got done while on vacation… but hey, it was a vacation, right? I really do need to get cracking on Pickups and Pestilence though. Other things, that will take a lot of effort, are beginning to draw my attention. I just may have to start serializing the thing to get the incentive-to-finish going.

Speaking of vacation, here’s a cute anecdote: Mason was very comfortable at Dad’s place — comfortable enough that he’d go explore odd corners on his own, well out of sight of the adults. We slept downstairs, where there was also a large TV. So one morning, we were minding our own business; Mason slipped up the stairs, into the kitchen, pulled a quart of blueberries off the counter (fortunately a snap-top container), then carried them back down the stairs. He came walking up to us: “Berries?” That kid could just about live off fruit and cheese… and meatballs. He loves him some meatballs.


I mentioned having a “crisis of confidence” about the Friday Flash that I didn’t post week before last. I thought of it at first as a Vacationlanders fan-fic, but that isn’t right either. After watching both parts of the first episode, which are all that have been posted so far, I found myself objecting to some of the key points.

First off, while I could see the feds cutting off services to regions — or entire states, as was done to Maine in Vacationlanders — I don’t think that what comes after is quite so drastic as is depicted in the first episode. WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD On the other hand, I have to wonder if the film crew has been set up from the get-go. If the UTM were as lawless and dangerous as it seems, I would think they’d have heard about it and gone in prepared. END SPOILERS

Even if the Feds cut off the power grid and fuel deliveries at the border, 1) any local hydro and alternative facilities would still be available; 2) state and local governments would attempt to function and preserve order as much as possible, just to justify their continued existence; 3) you couldn’t cut off chunks of the country without some kind of quid pro quo for the affected citizenry or civil suits, probably both; 4) politics would exclude wealthy citizens from the Unincorporated Areas; 5) there would almost certainly be commerce along the border, perhaps even people continuing to commute from Unincorporated Outer Suburbia into Atlanta.

Back in 2009–2010 when there was a lot of talk from the right-wing losers about secession, I concluded that Planet Georgia could secede without hurting the rest of the country much, if at all. Seriously: what do we have here that can’t be produced somewhere else? No oil reserves, the gold was mined out decades ago, and the only strategic industrial pieces we have are concentrated in specific locations. So I created this map (click to enlarge), designating the Georgia Quadrangle where there are still full services, and Unincorporated Georgia. The corners of the quadrangle are the primary cities, with Columbus as a separate enclave, and a largeish rural “heartland” to supply food.

So here’s the writing prompt: think about your own area and whether it would still be “incorporated” or not, and conflicts should be many and obvious. Post links to your stories here so I’ll see them. If you use the graphics, copy them to your own blog so they stay available. I’ll post one of the flash pieces I’ve written on this theme on Friday.

Some Vacation pix

Vacation must really be over, because I’m heading back to work tomorrow. Ick. The van’s A/C mostly worked; we found a few more glitches but that’s what a shakedown cruise is for, right? We took it back to the dealer this afternoon, to let them fix a few other things we ran across.

Mason traveled very well, much better than I expected. The girlies bought a portable DVD player to keep him occupied along the way, and that may have had something to do with it. He about drove Daughter Dearest nutz with endless requests to watch Cars though.

Let’s cut to the chase. Here’s a few of the best vacation pics:

A nice warm evening, a glass of wine, a lakefront view… what more could one ask from vacation?


Here, Daughter Dearest demonstrates her most excellent bubble-blowing technique. Mason loves it.


Mason loved popping the bubbles. I loved when they sailed off the deck and over the lake.


The public access site was a short walk away, and it had a sandy almost-beach area. Mason loved to pick up gravel and sand and throw it in the water.


It’s called Duck Lake, but that doesn’t keep the swans from coming around. They hung around for a while, and we speculated that they might have wanted to come ashore where we were. Oh well.

(The people in the background are property owners on the other side of the public access site.)


Mason got rather uncooperative after the first few family shots, but this one worked pretty well. Left to right: Other Brother, me, Mason, Dad.


On the way home, Daughter Dearest phoned a college friend who lives along the way, and she suggested we all meet for lunch. We ended up at the city park in Trenton, GA, which has a pretty cool carving (nearly 20 feet high).


We arrived in mid-afternoon yesterday, with Mason sound asleep. I got the van unloaded and managed to sit down for a while as he napped.

Escape from FAR Manor! 2011.1

Vacation has begun, says I, typing this in a hotel room somewhere in Indiana. (Jim, Andi, sorry I didn't arrange to meet, but it's for the best, as you'll soon see.)

Mrs. Fetched has been “griping” for some time about how we need (i.e. she wants) a minivan. I won’t argue that it would be a big help, what with two toddlers (Mason and Skylar) in the manor — you can stick two car seats in the middle buckets and have room for two more in the back — but like the Good Book says, “all things work together for Mrs. Fetched’s conveniece… or they’d better.” I think it’s in the Book of Hezekiah.

Now Mrs. Fetched is a tenured faculty member of the school of DO SOMETHING NOW (whether it actually solves the problem), and I soon saw the old pattern. I made a couple attempts to slip a little reality past her armor, but soon gave up and said que sera, sera. So her mom got in on that act, and in a mad rush bought a 1998 Grand Caravan on Thursday. Just in time to take it to Michigan! It had a cracked windshield, but the dealer said they’d send someone out to replace it by Friday afternoon.

So I got home from work on Friday, to find the windshield wasn’t replaced. I’m shocked, SHOCKED!!! not Since it’s on the passenger side, we all figured it wouldn’t be an issue. (Besides, the less Mrs. Fetched sees while I’m driving, the happier we all are.) So we spent much of Friday night packing. Saturday morning was chicken house duty for the girlies, while I watched Mason and took care of a couple agenda items (like printing out the new insurance card and loading luggage). I have to admit, you can stick a LOT more in a van than even a four-door Civic. We could have taken a bunch more if we’d removed the back seat, but we brought all we wanted. With the A/C more than overcoming the 95°F day outside, we got on our way around 3pm.

We soon ran into rain, and the first glitch with the van: the intermittent wipers “crash.” That is, they’ll work fine for a while, then twitch and stop. Flicking to off or always-on cleared the problem, so I lived with it. Then, around the time we crossed into Kentucky, the A/C stopped working. Mrs. Fetched, who had done pretty well up to now, suddenly got grouchy. Fortunately, it was getting dark and cooling off a little, and Daughter Dearest said the A/C in back still worked. Maybe it’s another crash issue.

As night dragged on, Mrs. Fetched’s questions about where we would stop for the night got ever more pointed. Why she didn’t just shut up and sleep is beyond me, but she mentioned a Comfort Inn and I agreed to stop there. Then when I went past an exit, she went “What do you think you’re doing?” in that tone of voice that makes me happy neither of us go around armed.

“Going to the Comfort Inn like you said.”

“I don’t care that it’s a Comfort Inn!” Well, that’s Mrs. Fetched: the Princess of Precision.

We ended up at a Best Western across the street, because I couldn’t get anyone at the Comfort Inn. Looks like the hotels are pretty well packed for a race in Indy today (which I didn’t know about or I might have stayed in Louisville).

It’s always fun to take a new used vehicle on a 2000-mile shakedown cruise…

I’m Back!

Did’ja miss me?

While you count the turtles on the dock next door to Dad’s place, enjoying one of the last warm days this side of spring, I’ll ask an age-old question: what’s worse than dialup? Obviously: no Internet at all. Or perhaps Internet on a not-iPhone with a tiny screen. I actually picked up a wifi signal from a friend of Mom’s across the lake, but they wisely had it locked. I tried tethering to my new phone, but that didn’t work out either (still working on that for later needs). I was mostly able to keep up with Twitter, but that’s about it.

Anyway, we had a pretty good time visiting with Dad. We went golfing several times, until a tendon in Solar’s arm decided it had enough. I guess that’s the advantage of dealing with a baby; all the lifting kept me in good form (and I actually started getting off the tee fairly well once I slowed down my swing). We had a small party for his 80th birthday… for the things he complains about, I just hope I’m doing as well when I’m 80. We ate out (a LOT) and ate well when we ate in, too. I got more pictures, some of which will end up on Picasaweb and maybe here sooner or later.

I got home last night around 11:30 p.m. and Mason was asleep (whew!). Of course, we were getting rapidly re-acquainted at an earlier hour than I would have liked. Mrs. Fetched and M.A.E. said he called down the hall for me for a couple days after I left. He changed quite a bit in five days: his hair is a little longer and a lot thicker, and he’s gotten tall enough to reach the tabletops from the floor (eep!). He had his one-year checkup last week, and he’s still 20 lbs. — not much weight gain in the last four months, but the doc says it’s not a concern. He just runs off what he eats, and has minimal baby fat. He’s been trying to talk for a while, and hit on saying ahhhh for a drink before I left. Of course, he’s getting into anything he gets a chance to get into, often looking over his shoulder to make sure we him him doing it… then running away and laughing when he grabs something he shouldn’t.

But I digress. My first day home, I get a call from the sheriff’s office, asking me if I can pick up my car. What has The Boy done THIS time??? The dispatcher couldn’t get any info from the state trooper, who was making the bust almost right on her doorstep, but took my number and called me back when she got the info: speeding and suspended license. Turns out the second charge was bogus — he had paperwork showing he’d done what he had to do to avoid that, and the DMV agreed this afternoon — but 64 in a 45 zone is going to leave a mark… on his wallet. The Boy, of course, is in high dudgeon about it, and is ready to sue anyone he can find who’s attached to the situation. (I told him to look up “sovereign immunity” but, like Mrs. Fetched, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear so he dismissed it.)

Vacation in general was pretty nice. The week at the resort is almost like a distant memory, and don’t even ask about work (although I’ve peeked at email a few times). But today’s event was a reminder that I really need to start looking forward to my daily escape from the free-range insane asylum.

Escape from FAR Manor?

Well… not right away.

Things have been a little slow at work, and I have all this vacation to burn, so I asked for the next three weeks off. And got it. This is going to be the longest stretch of not working I’ve had, if you don’t count the stretches where I was looking for another job. The stretch can be easily broken into three separate weeks:

Week 1: the resort, on and off. Technically, we should be there right now as I type this on Friday night, but Mrs. Fetched was tired (what a shock, I say) and we can go tomorrow. Mason’s first birthday is Monday… heehee, it was labor for Snippet anyway! And it’s labor trying to get Snippet to do much with him now. Actually, she’s been better the last couple of weeks, getting up at night with him some of the time and dealing with things in the mornings. The Evil Chickens go away Wed. night, so Mrs. Fetched will be back here at the manor. The Boy also gets out of jail on Wednesday… oh, I didn’t mention that, did I?

The Boy’s got his own week of vacation, at the Cinder Block Hilton. Seems that he came home drunk as a lord a couple weekends ago, around 4 a.m., and then he had to get screened at 6:30 a.m. (as in, 2.5 hours later). Since he’s not supposed to be drinking as a condition of probation, you can connect the dots. Well, you and I can — he had convinced himself that it wouldn’t show up.

Anyway, I also expect Week 1 to include a call or maybe two from work. I lined up the ducks as best I could, but I’m sure someone will freak out about something and get my boss involved.

Week 2: Mrs. Fetched doesn’t know about this yet. I’m going to stay around the manor and take care of unfinished business — like the woodpile that’s been patiently waiting for me since June, and finishing up the shower room. Maybe I’ll tackle the bathroom window replacement, too. Expect pictures.

Week 3: Off to North Carolina to visit Mom for her birthday. Yay, more September birthdays! (Yeah, January is a boring month otherwise, huh?) There may be a call or two from work, too, and I’ll probably start checking work email a little more carefully as I ease back into the life of a working stiff.

In between all the other stuff, I intend to get a good bit of writing done. God willing, I’ll finish White Pickups and then I can dedicate my writing time to Book II.

A few random vacation pics

Having a good time, except that Mason is waking up at 6:45 every morning so he doesn't miss out on all the stuff going on. He loves to chase Mom's kitty all over the house:



Yesterday, we put some shutters up on the back of the house. Much "fun" was had, mainly by Wicked Stepfather going UR DOIN IT RONG constantly. Mom held the (plastic) shutters while I screwed them up in:



I keep threatening to do this to Mrs. Fetched, so Daughter Dearest did it to me. Yup, I raised her right!



More to come, probably when I get back home.

As the Sun Slowly Sets on Vacation…

And so it winds down… a week just isn’t enough time to do everything you’d like to do, but in the end it’s enough. It’s enough. I was talking to Mrs. Fetched last night and realized that I was ready to go home.

At the same time, I really needed this break, and so did Daughter Dearest. It wasn’t warm enough to lie on the beach, but she isn’t the lie on the beach type anyway. It was warm enough to get out though, not always the case on Planet Georgia last week. It’s going to be warmer both here and there next week, so I expect I’ll be outside a lot at least until I have to go back to work on Thursday.

We did get a trophy — a walker for Mason — and I got plenty of pictures. DD got some clothes for various things, and a lot of rest. I’m a little bummed about not getting a chance to meet up with Beth; I was looking forward to talking about writing and boring DD to death. ;-) But there will be other chances.

Mrs. Fetched sounded pretty tired… I’m sure Snippet hasn’t been holding up her end of things with Mason, and The Boy never has, so it’s all down to her. I figure on Sunday, it will be Mrs. Fetched Rests Day and I’ll let Mason cruise the manor in his new walker.

Splashing along

Daughter Dearest and I have reached the halfway point. So far so good — as always, plans one makes on Sunday get a little squishy by Wednesday, but we’re still hoping for a meetup with Beth while we’re here… maybe Friday.

It’s interesting how quickly a routine has developed: I tend to get woken up by sunlight leaking through the blinds around 7:30 each morning, so I just go with it and try to get in bed by 11:30. I got out on a walk with the camera on a sunny Sunday, and managed to catch a sailboat going through the drawbridge, a gorgeous sunset, and various birds. This duck was beating the water with its wings, I think in response to a second duck walking along the shore — MY pond!!! Eventually, it climbed out, dried its wings off, then took off low (making it hard to get an in-flight shot, but I think I managed).

The wind has really gotten up, and it has been fairly cool here (low 60s). People here seem to think that’s cold, while for DD and I it’s shirtsleeve weather as long as you’re moving around — a good 20 degrees (F) warmer than at home. Even more important, it’s over 500 miles from the chicken houses, so who cares about the weather?

Otherwise, I’ve been doing a lot of reading and a little writing. I took the original Daughter Dearest to the original Hooters on Gulf-to-Bay (this has been a running joke for us for some years), and bought her a new t-shirt to replace her old one which is wearing out. Her old one was black, with a printed vine running along one side and the logo sneaked in — very subtle, and she wore it to school many times without anyone (in authority) noticing. The new one is a more Gothic design, not as subtle but still not the full-on “delightfully tacky yet unrefined” like the waitresses wear. We saw a baby-sized shirt that said “Hooters Girls Dig Me,” which we’ll get for Mason when he’s big enough to wear a 2T.

Her take after observing the waitresses was interesting: “I’d never work there. They’re all really jealous of each other and they don’t seem to think much.” Being hungry, I wasn’t paying that much attention to the waitresses. I remember the name of our server, mainly because she was named after a camera (Yashica). :-P I couldn’t talk DD into posing outside, but whatever. We had a good lunch and a good bit of fun along with it.

Solar was over here once, and should swing by tomorrow night. Too bad he won’t be here tonight, I’m making pizza starting in an hour or so, after I get back from a photowalk…

Ain’t Gonna Play Sun City

A recent BBC article on “America’s original active retirement community” got me thinking. As many long-time readers know, the FAR in FAR Manor means Forget About Retirement — but I try not to. Hey, I might get lucky after all. Besides, I’m on vacation, the original mini-retirement.

What jumped out at me were two quotes near the middle of the article. In the first, one resident said that retirement previously involved (among other things) “waiting to die.” The developer heard many variants of “I raised my own children, and I don’t want to have to raise my grandchildren.” To me, the first seems myopic, the second outright selfish.

Next week, I’ll be going to Florida, which seems these days to be one humonguous retirement community (active or otherwise) overlaying a normal economy, which in turn overlays a tourist economy. The desire to move somewhere that’s warm all the time, or at least cold very rarely, is certainly understandable… although there’s a long brutal summer to contend with as well. Too cold sometimes or too hot sometimes, pick one.

So why would retiring in the community where you worked, with or without family nearby, be “waiting to die”? After all, you already know where the good restaurants are, which fishing spots are best at any given time, which golf courses offer reduced greens fees on weekday mornings, where the good walking/biking/hiking trails are. Unless your friends have all moved away, you know where they are and when they’re available. Unless you live in some backwater hole in the hills, and even on Planet Georgia there are great hiking and mountain bike trails just a few miles from the manor, there should be plenty of recreational opportunities for an “active retirement.” Why go somewhere that you have to figure all this stuff out all over again, when you can enjoy it right where you are?

Then there’s the other side of the coin. I for one mostly enjoy helping to raise Mason, even when I have to work for a living. He’s off with Snippet for an overnight at her mom’s, and even with him waking up twice a night (teething) I’m going to miss him. I’ll really miss him next week when I’m gone. I can understand long-standing friction with your (nominally) adult children — The Boy really gets on my nerves sometimes — or the resentment at their presumption that they can just dump their own kids on you while they work or have fun, but I can’t understand not wanting to be a part of your grandkids’ formative years. You don’t punish the kids for the sins of the parents, after all. Besides, with multi-generational households becoming a trend once again, you should be able to expect the kids to support you as well: you take the grandkids fishing or bike riding while they’re working, they come in and you pop out to the golf course. Sounds like one way to have the best of both worlds, anyway.

Vacation Pix: Iconic Allegan

When you grow up in a picturesque town, you have to leave for a few years before you can really appreciate it. Allegan might be small enough to photowalk in a day — I’m just hitting the highlights here — but you might want to bring extra memory cards and make a weekend of it.



Canon EOS 40D, 28-135mm IS/USM lens
various exposures

Top left: The 2nd Street bridge, one of very few 19th century iron bridges still in use. Built in 1886, it’s one lane plus a walkway. It spans the Kalamazoo River, and connects M-89 to the industrial east side of town. The bridge was renovated after nearly a century of use, and is now the anchor of an annual “BridgeFest” in town. Not too many Historic Register places that are used for their original purpose, but this is one of them.

Top right: The Regent Theatre has been showing movies for… well, I think my mom went there when she was a kid. It looks pretty much the same as it did when I was a kid, standing in line outside to buy a ticket for the latest show. Here’s another Historic Register site that’s still used for its original purpose.

Bottom left: The Griswold Auditorium. I’ve seen plays and travelogues here, and was on stage and backstage a number of times myself. Whoever built the place had a sense of humor: “ALL THE WORLD’S A STAGE” is emblazoned above the stage itself. It was years after I first saw it that I learned it was a line from Shakespeare.

Bottom right: The Allegan Public Library was one of the Carnegie libraries. It has been expanded since I moved away, and I have no idea whether the beautiful wooden floors and shelves are still intact upstairs. The kids’ section was downstairs, and I plowed through it pretty thoroughly in my younger years.

I didn’t get nearly as much time as I would have liked to explore, especially to see what has changed — I know the old free parking down by the river has been partially turned into a riverwalk, with a concert gazebo, and it really looks nice. Not to mention the storefronts…

Vacation pix: Argh!

A seagull had perched itself on one of those “swim area” markers featured earlier. I go to take the shot, and…



Someone has to walk right into the field of view. That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.

Canon EOS 40D, 28-135mm IS/USM lens
135mm, f11, 1/320 sec

(BTW, that’s my nephew with the boogie board, back turned to us.)

Vacation pix: Driftwood

After shooting a bird sitting on one of the “swim area” posts, Dad suggested I get the driftwood in the foreground for scale. Then I got interested in the driftwood itself.



Canon EOS 40D, 28-135mm IS/USM zoom lens
135mm, f7.1, 1/500s
Lake Michigan (Hoffmaster State Park), 7/28

Vacation Photos: Slipping into Fall?

What goes up, must come down.



Canon EOS 40D, 28-135mm IS/USM zoom lens
135mm f5.6 1/1600
Straightened and cropped

Flowery (and Grassy) Friday (Vacation Edition)

Andi’s grass pic this morning reminded me I wanted to post this…



The flowers were growing in clumps in various places, mostly in neglected yards or garden plots. Seems to be a really good year for them.

Top: Lake Michigan (Hoffmaster State Park) [38mm, f13, 1/400s]
Bottom: from Dad’s deck, Duck Lake [135mm, f5.6, 1/160s]
Canon EOS 40D, 28-135mm zoom lens

Vacation pix: Waterfowl

Actually, Dad thinks the geese are rather foul, because that’s what they’ll do to the grass if he doesn’t chase them off. ;-)

Seagulls: Lake Michigan (Hoffmaster State Park)
Geese & Swans: Duck Lake
Canon EOS 40D, 28-135mm zoom lens, various exposures