Searching Yonder

Exploring the word "Yonder" "at or to that place; beyond farther, further, more at farther" and "being at a distance within view". Complicated and lots of work. We would love to have things handed to us with the slightest amount of effort, or at the very least, easily obtained. Not happening. 

I am at a place in life where learning new things is pleasurable and important to me. Yonder is the key to finding things out. Yonder, sometimes very difficult to find, is the strategy in which you can find what you are striving or yearning to learn. Never simple - the "it" always seems to be yonder. What if you don't know how to find the it? You must search yonder, beyond farther. 

I struggle with googling - not raised during the technology age. For instance, my husband and I tried to find a log cabin by a river in which we can kayak and fish. I searched on google and was given, on my screen, a plethora of "hits" to explore. Where to begin? Yonder! I read about some potential cabins, but, honestly and essentially, worthless in our pursuit. Word of mouth - still a yonder endeavor. Why is it that whatever we desire, requires a yonder?

(Here is one of my stop action pictures, taken on a sunny day

in Kensington Park.)

I recently followed through on a yonder desire: to learn. Photography, in particular. As a passion for this search engulfed me, I was successful in my search and "hit" upon two classes and two local photo clubs; joined, did the projects, passed! I have to share that the comfort level between me and my Sony a7000 has improved exponentially with the amount of exposure I had with my teachers and the assignments. I'm excited to learn more and signed up for a photography editing class in the fall. My fear of learning has disappeared - perhaps it wasn't quite a fear, but rather a doubt that my abilities to learn new materials was compromised after many years of no classes. As in riding a bicycles, you never have to doubt you can learn something new. I did - and am glad that I searched out yonder - a word worthy of embracing. 

An Attempt to Organize

I have slips of paper, including scraps of toilet paper (don't ask), with recipes scrawled, most in abbreviations. I go in the junk drawer - recipe; bathroom cabinet (don't ask) - recipe; mom's files - recipe; tax folder! - recipe. My refrigerator has a 2016 collection of these magnetically clipped to its poor bulging side, creating a chaotic and challenging time when trying to recall where a particular one is located. I dare say, most of us have these scattered papers in the nether areas of our homes.

I also have an abundance of journals - so - aha moment (sorry Oprah, I've used this for years) - why don't I write these down in an 8 1/2 x 11" hardcover journal. Had to be easy to open and able to lay flat. So, avoiding or disregarding my homework scheduled for today, I searched and searched the house. It had to be perfect! Not too small, thus the larger paper size to hold an abundance of these gems. "Rattling around" in my daughter's room (shh) - found it and, after collecting these scraps, wrote them all down in the book. Boring? Not really as I used many colored pens to create a delightful collection of family and friend, oh, and the Barefoot Contessa, recipes. All encapsulated in one place.

The idea for the colored pens was encouraged by a college classmate (that still seems strange to say). This smart, cute and personable 17-year-old displays a beautiful rainbow of these pens on her table each class. She uses them to write assignments, update her date book, separate the important and urgent messages a young person naturally has. Also, a neighbor "posted" her date book on FB - filled with color. Why wouldn't it work for me?

Some may ask, how did I keep each category separate from the rest. I didn't. It reads just fine and much easier just to write them in than to worry about tabs or having each meal in its own little section. The bottom line - they are IN the book!

I'm not famously known in the family as a good or even mediocre cook. Will never aim to be one. My liver stew and cereal with orange juice are past memories. But even at my age - I can hope - hope that having this journal, handwritten and colorful, full of such a rich array of potential meals and ideas - will spur me to create. The recipes are tried and true, delicious and passed down at least one to two generations. I'm excited to try.

Joy in Fish Town

Michigan is full of surprising and delightful places hidden in the crevices of its hand prints. Our favorite activity is to travel back roads in this beautiful state - and through this have created places we feel at home in time and time again when we visit. We have many such "home" places: Ann Arbor, Saugatuck, Traverse City, Elberta, Howell, Marquette, Garden City, Milford, Plymouth are among some of these gems.

Adding treasures to our car brings such a peace and hope - many in the form of photographs. We leave no trash behind and make the place sweeter and more pristine for future visits.

I recently began my passion with photography and am delighted to witness events occur at the moment they do - with a click of the shutter, a memory has been captured.

On a recent trip to the Leelanau Peninsula's Leland, or Fish Town, we were met with blue skies, freezing winds, crisp smells, and few tourists during our late April stroll through the streets and down to the wharf. A bookstore with the friendly owner, many wonderful and fresh books, and coffee in our cold hands, made us feel at home on this frequent destination place. Our stomachs led us to a small, grating building in front of the dock..."Cheese" is where you could order a huge sandwich on substantial, not fluffy, bread, including pretzel bread; even ordering a sack lunch to go. This is exactly what we asked for - a picnic lunch, the Logjam on pretzel bread, huge pickle, cookie and a drink.

Charter boats for fishing were unmanned and sitting along the dock waiting for the busy season after Memorial Day weekend. As I was taking pictures of some unique boats in the marina, an 80-something-year-old man came up to my husband and I, shared pointers on how to capture the uniqueness of two boats stern to stern. As we chatted and he directed, he shared that he use to teach photography "in my younger days" and was there with his son to take a short boat ride in their little motor boat. A very open and pleasant man - I could have spent a couple hours urging his story out of him, but the serious son slipped the boat into the water and told his father that it was time to go! I clicked pictures of the two men as they slowly meandered through the larger vessels to the open water. The old man turned and kept up a good long wave as they disappeared past the rocks.

My husband, who is very patient with my new "hobby" and who has an artistic eye, called me over and showed me a framing picture that, for me, says it all. When I look at this picture, I remember the people we met, the shots taken, my husband's encouragement, and the JOY we had. Fish Town is another great destination in Michigan.

There's Something about Fall

As I sit outside on my blue wicker chair on this beautiful autumn day “babysitting” our house cat, Moji,  as he’s sprawled on the porch enjoying the excitement of falling leaves  – I am melancholy. It is stunning outdoors and am perplexed as to where this mood comes from.

Michigan has wonderful falls, although they are quite short. So many fun and entertaining activities to engage in – haunted houses, walking crispy paths on nature trails, making soup, decorating with orange (which I adore). Sounds of the sewing machine linger in the air as my daughter sews a special Halloween costume, with such passion and excitement, that I smile.

Perhaps it’s the palpable brevity of the warm breezes, spectacular coloration, abundant activities to choose from, which brings out thoughtful sadness. The day will arrive when snow will sprinkle the ground with taunts – “you should have done this or that while the weather was perfect” it seems to declare.

My melancholy is actually a positive as it is restful while also motivating, and reminds me to grasp these days of beauty. Petting Moji’s soft fur reminds me of the tactile opportunities October and November offer – well, heck, any season in our beautiful state. This brings me to a stopping point in my reflections on sadness and opens up a salute to Michigan’s gifts – its many, many treasures.

Moji wants to remain outside on his leash so that I have to bribe him to go indoors, or rather, I have to drag the little rebelling boy into the house. He knows what is good, what is best – Nature, Michigan, Falling Leaves – smart cat!

Wander into Wonder

My “W” word is Wander. I am a person who needs, wants and has a drive to wander: “to move around or go to different places usually without having a particular purpose or direction” – thank you Merriam-Webster dictionary. We are budget wanderers – my family and I – preferring the comfort of exploring Michigan’s many fingers, leaving our own hand-print on its mittens. 

I may be considered restless, having to always be doing something, anything, rather than sitting back and relaxing. For years, I have struggled with this “restless” label thinking it was a negative thing. Guilt over being “gone again” has been tough to explain away. Yes, we are “gone again” a lot, my husband, children and I, and enjoy every minute of our excursions. We’ll take off on our adventures at the drop of a hat with the purpose of wandering - sometimes with no set destination except for a cool coffee shop, bakery, woods, walking or biking trail, cemetery. 

I highly recommend a sense of wander (lust) for anyone who is willing to be wet from the rain, freezing, literally, on a river trail, needing a change of scenery, or perhaps, to fulfill your bucket list on places to visit. Maybe I am restless, but accept rather the positive in that rather negative word. It is me, my being, my personality led by my character, my bent if you will, my life choice – to wander! 👣👣👣👣

A discovery of significance, sometimes hidden in later recollections, is that wandering often leads to wonder: “a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable”. 

For instance, we have been part of a bicycle adventure where we are allowed to bike over the Mackinac Bridge after a grueling 4-5 days of traveling from Lansing to the bridge. The Mackinac Bridge is one of the longest suspension bridges in the world and connects Michigan's lower and upper peninsulas with a whopping length of 5 miles. As you bike over the expansion joints and bump over the surface, you are so close to the rail - which protects you from falling into the cold waters of Lake Huron as you head north (or Lake Michigan as you travel south) - a feeling of wonder, overcoming the nausea and fear, grabs at your extremely fast beating heart, at the Mackinac Bridge’s size, beauty, power and how you can ride during the swaying in winds. Yet it stands, a testament to engineering and dedication. If we did not “wander into wonder” the memory of this magnificent bridge adventure would not have been ours to cherish, or pass on to others.

For me, life would be less full if we were to rest. The wandering is us. Wander into Wonder – Pure Michigan style.

Using my unfocused brain

My focus was acutely sharp as I entered my photography class a bit early. This year's resolution permeated my body - with the promise that I will expose myself as a novice, yet learn the art of taking pictures. My seat choice was in the ambient light away from the hallway noise to allow my mind to open up and again, focus, on the professor's every word. I wanted to be close up with my notebook in order to filter the distortions of gabbing in the back of the classroom.

As time in this new experience continued, I shuttered at my lack of absorption of the material. I secretly began to get irritated at the professor's zooming through material. He talked about how everything would be in "manual" ... Not in the manual, but manual. To an extreme novice, what the heck. I began to get a little whoosh and the white balance in the class was such it looked to me like I was seeing a wide angle distortion of students. Panic attack? Maybe! My lack of knowledge, and age, and gray matter, were proving frustrating and knew I had to recalibrate my resolution.

He talked about histograms - the last histogram I had was when we found out our baby was going to be a girl child...I thought this was photography. ISOs were important, zooming of the lens to get a good focus, also important. F-stops! Bracketing! Not only aperture and shutter but aperture priority and shutter priority! My brain was not flashing.

Homework happened. I took pictures, wrote down the settings with each click, my composition was my home. Yet, I could not find out how to change the shutter speed. The professor looked at my camera one afternoon when I went to his office and quickly manipulated its poor body telling me where to change the shutter speed and aperture thingy. It didn't stick.

I took said pictures, which were suppose to have a certain ISO, aperture, and shutter speed, which was lacking. I removed the memory card, great name, out of the trap door on my camera's underbelly, and put it in a memory card reader. So far, so good. I inserted said device into the little opening on my laptop and bam, a note came up on my desktop. What do I want to do with these pictures. Instead of being honest, I created a folder and kindly asked that they be placed in the folder. It happened! Then I was to transfer this folder onto a thumb drive, which I inserted into another slot on the computer. Try try try, nothing occurred - I could not get those pictures to jump onto the drive. After a good half an hour of attempting this impossible necessary homework, I gave up and went to get a different thumb drive. It worked. Then I noticed something peculiar about the original drive - it was actually a memory card reader, one of two I had purchased. Closing down the computer as fast as I could without being too snarky, I was finished.

In class that week, I had my thumb drive ready, but there was no mention from the teacher (I demoted his title) of this homework. Was I delusional? Searching my notes I was mistaken - I had misunderstood the assignment, there was none.

And this was only the fourth week. Can't wait for the other eleven!!!

Big Cat Protects a Village

We have an old fashioned bathtub in our 150 year old home and during the holidays I enjoy decorating it for our visitors to see and enjoy. Typically, there are twinkling lights displayed, people fishing, sledding, walking on the paths. Santa Claus is always somewhere in the scene and never will you find any media presence proclaiming disasters. There are new embellishments, yearly, voted for unanimously by the residents in this unique mountain village.

It is a safe place to live. The snow is always abundant, white, clean and sparkly. The people here enjoy the scenery, trees and an occasional drink of hot chocolate over a campfire, or a sweet and tasty fish made fresh over fire in the evening. The children are always happy and active and loved.

This village acquired a protector this year - a monster cat named Theodore Seuss Geissel who wanders around town to view the inhabitants, making sure all is okay. The people there do not fear the  cat but rather look forward to his gentle visits, occasional kisses on their heads, and the obvious care big cat gives them.

We wish the villagers a very merry, safe and joyful white Christmas - and pray they will always be a peaceful community.