Saying Yes to the UP, for sure
Where I come from is very flat. I could roll a marble down the streets of my town and only have to run after it once. That would be when we approach the bluff above Lake Michigan and my glass eye makes for the rushes along the shore- or this week my pearly orb aims for the wintry layers of ice. My town is filled with wonderful people who have funny nicknames like “One Armed Sharkey” or “Fuzz ball”. They are rather committed to the obvious there on the northern shores of Lake Michigan.
I like my town. We have the best library though the ladies there are not so indulgent with out-of-towners like me. I no longer have the power of my Mom beside me to still any questioning of who I might be and where from. I have been a card-carrying daughter of a local for many more years than I actually lived there.
My Mom is living in a nursing home now. My Stepdad does not believe in reading, so he had no card to offer me. I did get to check out some books by way of a gracious gentleman who shared a table with my Stepdad. Looking up from the jigsaw puzzle he labored over, Bud raised his bushy eyebrows to offer me the indulgence of his card privileges, as long as I pledged to return the books in a timely fashion. So, I went home with a stack of art books to keep me company by the fire. I dug around at home to find Mom’s library card and tucked it away for next time.
I was in the UP for my Stepdad’s 90th birthday. We had quite a party complete with wine over lunch and a wonderful long story of his life in the UP. He is a forester and one of the earliest graduated from MSU. He and his cronies know the landscape with an eye for profit for the paper companies in forest products. They also know how to land walleye and survive the black flies. We celebrated Pa in the grandest fashion he would allow, balloons on the table and everything.
I visited my Mom. She is in a home with all sorts of people her age and older suffering from the rainbow of maladies the elderly endure. Mom has emerged from a 9-month bout with seeming nearly dead. Now, it is possible to have a bit of conversation with her and delight in her laughter, which makes all the hassle of getting there effortless. She is impish in her wheelchair and naughtily unlatches her seat belt, causing alarms to ring down the hall. She loves to read whatever she lays her eyes upon. I consider painting her walls with stories, because she would read them, one word at a time. Some moments were better than others, but it was a visit all the same, and much better than sitting next to what I thought would soon be her dying body. This was much more fun.
I like my town and I like my family. I like the friends I made when I lived there. They are among my most precious treasures. So are the memories of ice-skating way out on the bay to see fisherman working or walking the alleys with Mom collecting dandelions for our guinea pig. Kids I grew up with terrorized people by stealing carrots from backyard gardens. This weekend it rained on the snow and ice, so skating was dismal, but romantic all the same. The Upper Peninsula yields its beauty to those who can endure the flies, the weather and the nicknames, even if you are a visitor.
Snow and Ice are very nice
January 28th, 2010 at 8:55 pm
Wonderful images!
xo Bec
January 29th, 2010 at 3:04 pm
Suzi… you bring life to the past and your history into now… with vivid imagery and sensory delight. Thanks for sharing your brilliance.
January 31st, 2010 at 9:11 am
“Kids I grew up with terrorized people by stealing carrots from backyard gardens.” This might be my favorite line from this wonderful ode to your childhood home. Thanks for sharing, Suzi–and sorry to have missed you on Friday. The stomach flu has taken down my whole family (blecch.) I’ll be back next week. xx
February 11th, 2010 at 11:51 am
Thank you Dearest!!!!!!!!!!! Just came from ice skating this morning. Sublime. You must go for a walk out there at least. Love and hugs, S
February 12th, 2010 at 2:33 pm
Now that I have read your blog entry- I feel like I am all caught up on your travels. Between you and Me the traveling has kept us in whirlwind of action. Family trips can stir up so much emotion, reflection and so much awareness of the things we hold in hearts.And then they are over and we’re doing the laundry again, as if we never left. I do not revisit my childhood home anymore- because my family moved away from Fairport, and then moved some more- and so did I all through my 20s. Last summer when I was with Carol for Summer Solstice Art ” Camp”- many memories flooded back, as we chose painting locations in the Finger Lakes region of upstate NY. Keeping my collage-a-day travel journals helps me to focus on digesting the many experiences that occur on a trip- when all my senses are open to drinking -in the details in every little thing!
February 24th, 2010 at 7:08 pm
I liked reading your experiences of the U.P. And hearing that your mom has revived. And is impish! I don’t know how far your hometown is from Marquette but next time you come & visit…maybe we could meet over there? Unless you’re on the eastern end.
February 24th, 2010 at 11:10 pm
Oh My YooperSister! I would love to meet you in Marquette! My Mom is in Escanaba. I went to NMU and have a few dear pals there still, so I love to make the trip. I worked up at Bay Cliff when I was young and spent lots of time in the Big Bay area. I’d love to go for a walk and talk with you. I have been thinking about that mailbox gift you got all day. Somehow that has stayed with me today. And your seedhead photos are really fine. xo Thanks for stopping by the Laundry Line! xo S