Michigan's Magic

The boys and I spent a wonderful week or so in Michigan (Phil joined us about halfway through). As a child, my Mom would take me and my siblings to visit Grandma, and though I hadn't been back for over a decade, I was so happy to find that Grandma's house had the same smell, as did Grampa's coop where he did wood-working. How fun to taste the perfection of Dutch chocolate sprinkles on white bread (surprisingly good for gluten-free) with butter. How pleasant to watch my sons enjoy sparklers in the driveway, as I did as a girl on the 4th of July.

We once spent an afternoon on Mackinac Island, spending an hour on a tandem biking the eight mile circuit around. I was thrilled almost to tears to find that the magic of that memory was not over-rated. We all enjoyed that loop so much we did it on two consecutive days! Mackinac, free of cars and past the busy season, was a glorious, sunny wonderland of flowers and cheerfulness, kites and fudge.

We spent over two hours on a fascinating tour of a dairy in New Era, Michigan. It was interesting to see what a 1300 dairy (that's what they milk!) looks like. I know enough about the big ag version of dairy, and the opposite, small scale raw milk, to know how very quality of an operation this dairy was. Fascinating to spend a few hours thinking about milk. And they produce a very fine product. We bought their milk with joy.

Another highlight was the Soo Locks tour in Sault Ste. Marie. Did you know that during WWII, 90% of the iron ore needed for tanks and planes came through the locks there between Lake Superior and Lake Huron? The 21 foot drop between lakes used to require a one to three month portage around the rapids, ships pulled over logs; the fifteen minute lock trip made the journey reasonable. So that city, on the border of Michigan and Canada, was the most heavily guarded location in the interior.

We had other delights, from the campy fun of Mac Woods dune rides (which my mother did as a girl, as did I, as have now my sons) to a fascinating water-run sawmill demonstration. Joe and his cousin, twelve days older, were almost inseparable, holding hands as they walked from place to place. Grampa read the older boys a book, as he used to read to me and my siblings.

We came home to find surprisingly little changed. Ten days in spring makes a big difference. Ten days in fall: well, things had grown (okra especially), but the farm felt recognizable.

The one surprise came when Isaiah looked out the window this morning and said, "Dad, the cows are out!"

"Hmm. That must be why the gate was shut last night when we pulled in," said Phil.

Phil managed to get the cows corralled easily. Later our neighbor mentioned that he had a cow grazing on his front law yesterday. So he and a friend herded that cow back down the road, into our driveway, and shut the gate.

Bless these friends and neighbors who keep an eye on things, and thank the Lord that there was no damage, no theft, nothing to mar the homecoming of a magical vacation.

And if anyone knows of a bike-friendly place with beautiful scenery, we'd like that for a future vacation someday.