traveling up and down the blind highway

Don’t let people convince you there is no global warming. Upper Michiganders would argue with that statement.
In the beginning of March, the upper portion of the state experienced a winter storm that dropped 48 inches of snow in a day. That was in addition to the four feet already on the ground. Plow after plow was stuck in the heavy wet snow. On the lake shore drive, 119, the storm destroyed several bridges and parts of the road. We had to take several detours to travel to the top of the mitten where the Mackinac bridge connects the lower to the upper peninsula. The wet heavy Sierra cement covering of snow that thwarted snow blowers and plows. Many of the ski resorts were running into May.
During the late spring and early summer the area received several heavy rainfalls. A late June there was six inches of rain in one day. The sandy ridge, already saturated from the winter melt, caused large sand and rock slides into the same lake shore drive with four feet of sand and debris. The detours will continue well into next year.
We travelled to Mackinac City to take the ferry to Mackinac Island. The lovely shore line with it’s 20 miles of trees had flooded with the loss of many large trees. The detours increased our travel time by 15 minutes.
Mackinac Island is Michigan’s first state park, established in1895. The village passed an ordinance that forbid the use of horseless carriages on the island. This ban has continued making the island place set back in time. The movie, “”Somewhere In Time,” with Christopher Reed, Jane Seymour played Opposite Reed. There is a weekend in October that has special events, movie clips and an visit of Jane Seymour.
The Grand Hotel is a marvel . It was built in 93 days in1887 opening it’s doors on July first of that year. It boasts 388 guest rooms including 95 deluxe suites with balconies. The hotel has extensive gardens that wrap around the grounds. Over 150 varieties of flowers grow in the gardens. Including a secret garden with winding paths with a large flowering bulbs that change yearly. It is open free to the public 24 hours a day.
One can sit in a rocker to view the straights and Lake Huron. The porch stretches 660 feet, making it the longest hotel porch in the world.
The day I visited, I rode on three carriages, two ferries and a tram. Visitors can rent bicycles as well. The main street has many other historic smaller hotels. Diesel fumes are replaced with cooking fudge and horse feces. Staff constantly scoop up feces and the streets are washed daily after hours. Up to 600 horses work on the island in the peak summer months. There are about 50 horses that live and work year round to deliver and transport people and commodities.
Other sites include two forts, a mission church, and recreations of a fur company store, a 1900 home and several cemeteries. A Military, Catholic and Protistan center with many old grave stones.
After six hours of walking, I was ready for a welcome boat ride back to the mainland.
Poem.
Somewhere in Time

The first native people considered the island sacred.
The Great Turtle as it’s limestone back rises from the water.
The early French explorers likely saw the island in 1634 in exploring the Great Lakes shorelines.
In 1780, The British took over Fort Mackinac.
The island changed hands for the final time in 1815. and passed to the Americans.
The two peninsulas became one state in a trade with Ohio for The Toledo strip.
Today, one can travel back in time to visit or stay overnight.
Watch your step in the streets.
carolaspot@aol.com
Copyrighted 8/6/26

My brothers, sisters-in-law, and I have gathered in my brother Brian’s cottage during the first week in August for many years. Though we have lost some family members, we still eat brought goodies, reminisce, and laugh. Brian brings out all his toys for the lake: pedal paddle boat, canoe, and the rubber Zodiac. As I age, I am content to walk the beach and splash in the lake, close to shore. In the evenings, we sit in Adirondack chairs and enjoy the heat of the fire, as we watch the sunset and the sky darken to reveal the first stars. I recall that is one of the few places where I could see the evening stars appear. Now they are just a memory.
The cottage is in Goodhart, MI. which is known for its historical roots as a native village located on what is referred to as the tunnel of trees on M119, a lake shore drive. Last winter’s storms undermined some of the road north of Goodhart and heading to Cross Village, another historical site. The village was named after the Jesuits erected a large white cross about 1830 as a place for the native people to gather and worship. Before this, the people gathered on the sand bluff where there was a large crooked tree. After the cross was placed, the village’s English name became Cross Village. A replica of the original cross stands on a bluff overlooking the lake and can be seen by passing boats.
My sister-in-law will hunt for agates and fossils along the water’s edge. This year, I may try to see the stones using my meta glasses. Otherwise, I will enjoy the lapping of Lake Michigan’s waters on my feet.
So to prepare, I will gather a sturdy all-terrain white and a lighter cane for town traveling. Several chargers for equipment used to describe items and make notes of our adventures. Weather this close to the Straits of Mackinac, I will take clothes for cool evenings and hot days. Rain gear for the occasional showers is a good idea as well. I have two pairs of sturdy shoes to help me keep my balance on most terrains. My brothers take turns walking with me and watching for trouble. For example, I walked with my brother Brian last year to the local farmer’s market and down to the harbor to see the large boats and ships docked there.
I commented, “ There don’t seem to be many people around.”
My brother replied,
“You didn’t see all the people we avoided bumping into.”
I will bring some special treats for my guide brothers.
*** Poem
Evening Gathering
It’s almost time.
I grab my heavy cane and walk arm and arm with my brother Bob.
We make our way down the narrow walkway to the lower deck and descend to the soft sand.
I touch the sand grains.
They are still warm from the day’s sun.
I dig with my finger to discover cool sand, twigs, and rocks deposited by past storms.
I turn to focus on several conversations.
They merge with the waves to form an hypnotic chant.
Day cools into night.
Smiling, I recall past visions in this routine.
My imagination fills the gaps.
carolaspot@aol.com
Copyrighted 7/27/26

Today we celebrate National Lollipop Day. This treat has a long history. The ancient Egyptians, Arabs, and Chinese created a honey, fruit, and nut mixture warmed over an open flame to produce a golden caramel-like confection. This mixture was rolled around a reed or stick to keep the sticky concoction away from fingers. Bamboo, reeds, and sticks were used to form funnel shapes around the stick to form a handle. The treats were allowed to air dry to harden for special festivals. They were made as offerings to the spirits and gods as well as enjoyed by the populations. In medieval times, given medicinal properties, they were eaten as lozenges for sore throats.
Medieval people made twisted sticks from a mixture of sugar and honey. They twisted the mixture when warm. The candy would hold its shape when cooled. The candy was chewed on as a cure for coughs and throat irritations. Licorice, saffron, ginger, cinnamon, and comfrey were added for healing properties.
In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, sugar became cheaper. The mixture was cooked to a hard ball when cooled, forming a hardened sugary treat to suck on. Additives for color included compounds of copper, familiar for a bright red-orange color. Many of these mixtures were toxic in large doses. Indigo was added for a blue hue.
The Lollipop as we know it was invented by George Smith. He started selling his treat in 1908. He named it after a popular racehorse. Lolli can be slang for a sweet. Some dialects refer to the term as a tongue sweet.
The Tootsie Pop was invented in 1931. Luke Weisgram, a worker at the American candy company, got the idea after licking his daughter’s lollipop while he chewed on a Tootsie Roll. He enjoyed the two different tastes and textures.
Since then, Lollies or suckers now come in sour, tropical fruits. Tootsie Pops now come in chewy fruit flavors. Lollies now have some unusual flavors. The Dum Dum sucker’s newest flavor includes caramel apple, fried banana, and pickle. Whatever your taste preference, there is a candy just for you.
**. poem
Tootsie
In 1907, Leo Hirschfield invented the tootsie roll.
Named it after his daughter Clair’s nickname.
The candy contained sugar, cornstarch and cocoa.
This treat doesn’t melt in your hand.
Each new batch of tootsies are mixed with a left over batch.
This is to keep the taste consistent from batch to batch.
The candy roll is scored to allow pieces to be broken off.
The original chocolate has expanded to include many fruit flavors.
Try a new chew.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 7/20/26`

My brother Brian wrote an article about the waters of our hometown, Northville. I have used some of his stories with his permission. Thanks, Brian.
FIRST, SOME WATER BACKGROUND
My hometown is the headwaters of the Rouge River, with four tributaries converging into the Ville (Johnson Creek, Randolph Drain, and the upper & middle Rouge system).
We also have the only natural lake in Wayne County, Curtis Lake (also once called Silver Springs Lake/Yerkes Lake).
Our community is the highest point in the county, so I like to say everything is “Downriver” from Northville. The Rouge drops hundreds of feet to the Detroit River into the Great Lakes.
The four historic sections of town cooling areas…
ORCHARD HEIGHTS
Beginning in the 1870s, people in the Orchard Heights area would go to the Northville Fish Hatchery to swim in one of their many ponds.
Also, there was another small body of water behind Rural Hill Cemetery (still there) where many of the local boys swam until the WWII era.
Finally, at Eaton Drive & Seven Mile, there was an additional pond where Joe Denton Park is today. This cool spring-fed pond was connected to the city’s water supply. This pond was previously used by the Rogers family who patented condensed milk here.
CABBAGETOWN
Locals would cool down in the Mill Pond created by the dammed-up Rouge River, which previously fed the waterworks of the area mills. Northville was one of the first milling areas in Michigan, then it became a center for the county’s Industrial Revolution. Today, we are planning and building a network of Riverwalk pathways;soon one will be able to traverse from Northville North to Mackinaw City & South to Ohio.
Many folks historically had homes on the banks of the Rouge River that runs through Cabbagetown to keep cool in the summers and for the relaxation of the flowing water.
Lake Success on Griswold (a remnant of the gravel pit days) was also a frequent stop for swimmers, along with ponds on Beck Road behind Blue Heron Pointe.
We have just completed work on a waterfall system on the northern edge of Ford Field where the Randolph drain “shepherds” water from Oakland & Livingston County directly into the Rouge; check out Serenity Point where multiple waterfalls abound.
BEALTOWN
The Rouge River also runs through the Bealtown area (Mr. Beal owned the largest School and Church furniture business in the world named Globe Furniture).
Last century, the river running through the Downs was entombed underground to provide more land for the Wayne County Fair (which was even larger than the State Fair). Today, we have day-lighted this river and built a 10-acre Downs River Park which just won the State of Michigan’s Mparks award.
After WWII, Wayne County built what we would call today a “splash park” as you enter the parkway across from Custard Time. When I was a kid, there were still remnants of the concrete wading pools with large sprinklers. My sister remembers playing in the sprinkler pools.
HISTORIC DISTRICT
The Randolph Drain winds its way from Oakland County through this historic area and becomes quite a creek when it rains. In fact, where it connects with the Rouge at Ford Field, we just constructed a waterfall area at Serenity Point to reduce erosion.
In the early 60s, at the edge of the historic district (8 Mile/Randolph), Northville Swim Club took shape. I have fond memories of cooling off there when I was young.
Next door to the Swim Club at the old High School (Hillside School grounds today), a modern indoor pool was built in the late 1960s which offered public swimming times.
GLACIER-MADE TOPOGRAPHY
As mentioned, Northvillians would cool down at nearby gravel pits. Thousands of years ago, the glaciers “slowed down” ever so slightly, edging their way through Northville, leaving gravel deposits. Once dug out, these large craters would fill with spring water.
I remember hearing stories from my father and grandparents about swimming in the Northville gravel pits. Today, we call one Blue Heron Pointe, and the other is called Highland Lakes.
We had yearly school picnics that were held in the parkway on one of the creeks. I remember one June, following my brother, Craig, across the creek on a log bridge. I had poor balance and fell in. The water was cold and over my head. I was helped from the water by that sane brother.
Northville, like many areas of the Lower Peninsula, is a land of flowing ponds and lakes. A natural waterpark.
*** poem
Northville
Highest point in the Detroit area.
Blessed by Glaciers passing.
Deposits of gravel and sand to build with.
Many springs filled the pits, forming small lakes.
Four tributaries flow to the Rouge River towards Detroit for 129 miles.
My street ended across from a spring-fed pond.
My mother and I harvested watercress there for summer salads.
I was a water baby.
After I learned to swim.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 7/13/26

This July, our country celebrates the nation’s semiquincentennial. That same year, Detroit was celebrating 75 years of being a growing settlement.
Father Marquette started the exploration of Lake Superior and the northern part of Lake Michigan. Sault Saint Marie and Saint Ignace were the first two French settlements in the Great Lakes Area. Other French explorers followed the natural waterways. In 1701, Detroit was a trading post for the fur trade. Founded on the narrows of what is now known as the Detroit River. The river connected Lake Erie to Lake St. Clair. There was a natural waterway flowing from Lake Huron into the St. Clair River to Lake St. Clair, then to the Detroit River ending in Lake Erie.
The population of Detroit in 1776 was 1,500 males. There were 160 indentured servants and 140 slaves. The original population spoke French since the settlement was founded by the French missionaries. It changed hands with the British taking control. Most of the Potawatomi tribes were relocating to the north and west lands following the resettling along the Grand River and Huron Rivers.
The people of the First Nation established connections with French traders that shipped the furs to Montreal for processing and shipping to Europe. These early connections helped make Detroit an important commerce hub. St. Ann’s was founded in 1701, two days after arriving in the area. St. Ann’s is active and rich with history and diversity. It continues to be an important community hub.
As our nation celebrates its 250th birthday, Detroit will honor its heritage and history this month. The Fort Pontchartrain, and the small settlement, was located along the river where the downtown is currently located.
In 1796, land disputes were settled over wilderness forts and settlements. Though the fort is no longer on the river, the early settlement has paved the way for manufacturing and commerce on the Great Lakes. Currently, over 5000 ships traverse the waterway each year, making it one of the busiest in the world.
*** Poem
Early French Explorer, Captain Cadillac
He traveled by birch park canoe on all five Great Lakes.
Discovering river pathways into the land.
Establishing settlements on Lake Superior, Michigan, and Huron.
Furs were traded with the First Nation People.
They were shipped to Montreal to be processed
and sent to French manufacturers.
Centers of worship were founded in each settlement along the coasts.
The first settlement was dedicated to Our Lady, the Blessed Virgin, in 1681.
Others followed along the waterways.
The French explorer, Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac, in 1701.
St. Ann’s was founded two days after landing on the river.
325 years later, Detroit is an important cultural and economic powerhouse.
carolaspot@aol.com copyrighted 7/6/26

On the eve of the longest day, a small fawn was born in our little woods. She followed her mother to a neighbor’s yard as the sun set. Bathing the couple with golden light. I named the little one, Solstice.
Last evening, an old tom turkey spent a half hour preening, fluffing, and spreading his wings. After the entertainment, I found six more feathers that had been discarded for new growth.
Later, there were four young turkeys playing chase in our backyard. They would stop to get a drink and nibble the sunflowers before continuing the chase. They were beardless.
Squirrels come each morning to stare into the kitchen slider to see movement, hoping for several peanuts in the shell. Yesterday, a small squirrel was seen at the feeding area learning the ropes from his mother.
We hung a hummingbird feeder and a Vervena plant close by. As many as 4 birds have vied for the nectar at one time. The baby birds are no larger than a bumblebee, with a similar sound.
Birds are plentiful. Hummingbirds, an adult and young one, visit the feeder several times a day. Oreos snack on speared orange slices on a wire. Chipmunks bide their time to get close to the feeder. All in preparation for the Strawberry Moon, the first full moon of summer.
Mother nature is in full bloom and taking advantage of the longer hours of daylight.
*** poem
Under the Strawberry Moon
The sultry night masks the evening activity.
A raccoon family scurries across the stone wall to stand in the pool for a drink.
A skunk stops to sample a seed before continuing on his prowl.
A fawn waits, hidden in the tall grasses for his mother’s return, still as a statue.
Others rest in burrows and nests for the first light of dawn to start their foraging,
accompanying a cricket’s chorus.
The moon smiles on them all.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 6/29/26

The maple chest of drawers was designed and handcrafted for Great-Grandfather Walter’s bride on her wedding day. It was one and a half meters tall and two meters across. The number of drawers, small on the top, with larger drawers on both sides and across the bottom, fit snuggly in their place. The wood came from a forest near the Turnbull’s farm in Delhi, Ontario.
This piece of furniture sat in the bedroom of the homestead until Great-Grandmother moved to a nursing home in her nineties. The bureau had too many memories to sell. One of the relatives disassembled the piece to store it in his basement.
My father saw the neglected piece on a visit to Canada. He had many memories of the drawers in his grandparents’ home and asked if he could have it. No money was exchanged. His uncle wrote a letter stating that this was a gift from one family member to another. This would be needed for passing through customs.
The pieces of the drawers were packed into the back of our 1960’s Ford station wagon to make the trip back to the States.
It was a rainy, overcast day. The customs official looked in the wagon and saw the wood.
“That looks like an antique.”
My dad was tired. He just wanted to return to Northville.
“Here is a letter from my uncle that this is a gift from him to me.”
The official insisted that this was an antique and had value. My dad had enough.
“Take the piece and throw it in the river if you don’t believe the letter.”
The customs inspector didn’t want to remove the heavy pieces. He relented and allowed us to leave Canada without paying a fee.
Once we were back home, my mother called Mr. Kelly, Pearl Kelly, who was married to Dad’s cousin and lived close by in Plymouth. He was an expert in rebuilding and restoring furniture. He put the piece together, and it took four strong men to take it to the second floor of our home. There it stayed for the sixty years.
When Dad died in 2018, my brothers and I met at the homestead to divide up our parents’ possessions. If more than one person wanted an item, their names were put into a box, and a non-bidding sibling drew a name. Since I was blind, I was the one to draw the names. My brother Mike’s name was drawn for the bureau. The piece moved to the Pittsburgh area.
With my brother’s death and his wife, Kathy, moving to a smaller home, I suspect that one of the four children inherited the family heirloom.
From the Canadian woods to Pennsylvania, that piece of history connects the Turnbull family clan. To all the Dads in my family, I wish you all a Blessed Father’s Day.
Poem. ***
The Bureau
With a craftsman’s care, he selected and planed the wood.
Canadian maple, from the farm.
A wedding gift for his new bride.
There it stayed for eighty years.

After Great-grandmother’s death.
It was disassembled and stored in a basement, forgotten.
Until my Father saw the piece, memories stirred.
He asked for it.

With a handshake, the bureau was passed to another.
Traveled to Michigan’s shore.
Heavy with memories, it stayed for 60 years.
Now the passing time once again.

Traveling to Pittsburgh and beyond.
Wherever it lands.
This precious heirloom,
was touched by many hands.

carolaspot@aol.com copyrighted 6/21/26

National Nature Photography Day, June 15th, 2026 under 250 words

Today we are encouraged to take the time to take a walk and photograph some of the plants and animals you encounter. I have selected five photos of my nature walks. I have included five postcard poems to go with them. Enjoy this virtual walk.

Rhubarb

green fan leaves 

thick strawberry stems

handed down

from Dad’s garden

to mine

promising pies

Two squirrels,

one black walnut.

He eyes his mate, retreats,

taking the nut in her paws, gnawing.

Eating for two.

In my life, I have many friends, but only a handful of best friends. Growing up, I had two best friends: Cheryll and Laurel lived in my neighborhood. Neither of them went to the same school as I did. I went to Catholic school. Laurel attended Lutheran school, and Cheryll attended public school. Our bonding could have been partly because our mothers were friends. We were a Baptist, Lutheran, and a Catholic. What we had in common was not having sisters. We adopted each other as sisters. After sixty years, we will text, call, and try to visit even though we are many states apart. That is part of being “best friends”.
Shared story lines give a base to continue to share with each other. We have laughed, supported through loss, joys, and hardships. Still, we are friends. Our careers varied: Pediatric nurse, speech pathologist, and a graduate from law school but never took the bar exam. We live in three different parts of the country, but emails, texts, and calls keep us together.
I belong to a group of writers with disabilities. In that group, I consider two writers as best friends. Though we have never met face to face, Lynda, Alice, and I have shared many aspects of our lives through calls and writings.
I have a third best friend: an exchange sister that I still communicate and text most weeks. Adelia lives in São Paulo, Brazil. I treasure her as a part of my family.
Having best friends is a gift from God. When my daughter Ruth was an older toddler, she told an adult that was interviewing her at a food fair that Grandma was her best friend. We lived in the country at the time and had no close children as neighbors. We decided to move to the small town of Ada so she could have the opportunity to have close friendships.
So take time to call, write, or text those special friendships in your lives.

---

Poem
Best Friends

B Butter and jam tea sandwiches,
E Evening gatherings under the lilacs,
S Sisterhood, pinkie sworn,
T Took the first steps towards womanhood.

F Finding others through the years,
R Racing down different life paths,
I I know that each of you has my back protected.
E Each shares a special part of my life.
N Not real sisters but shared sisterhood.
D Dancing through the years,
S Smiling at the shared memories.
Thank you Cheryll, Laurel, Lynda, Alice, and Adelia.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 6/8/26

My grandfather, Clifford Turnbull, was the historian of the Turnbulls. He researched and had several stories of the origin of the name Turnbull. My ancestor, William, saved Robert Bruce, the heir to the throne, from a charging bull. As a reward, he was given lands and the name and crest of Turning the Bull. The next significant event for the Turnbulls was Robert and Jane Turnbull, with seven children and one on the way, emigrating to Canada. The lore indicated that Robert went to the St. Lawrence Seaway to bathe and drowned, leaving his wife and children to make their way from Montreal to Fort Dover, Ontario, 672 kilometers away. The family received wagon rides when offered by strangers, but they walked much of the distance. Walter, my great-great-grandfather, was the eldest child, becoming the head of the family. He and his brother, Robert, would hire their work to local farmers in exchange for food and lodging in barns and sheds along the route. Jane started each day with readings from the Bible to encourage each child to help the family travel to where relatives were in Fort Dover. Family lore had the journey taking two to three months. Jane probably had her eighth child soon after the family’s arrival in Fort Dover.
Walter was my great-great-grandfather. He lived on a farm in Delhi. His youngest son, William Henry, was my great-grandfather, married to Eliza Havelin. I remembered great-grandma; she was still alive in the 1960s. She was a feisty teetotaler.
My grandfather Clifford Turnbull worked the harvests, moving from farm to farm . As an older youth, he learned to work on ships on the St. Lawrence Seaway as an electrician, a new occupation. He later wired most of the homes, churches, and farms in the Northville area. A story ran in the Northville Record in 1920 from WWJ that August, the Presbyterian church heard the first broadcast on the radio from Detroit.
Both grandfather Clifford and Jenny, his wife, were Canadian citizens. This relationship would allow myself and my brothers to have dual citizenship.
We have always had ties to Canada and the States. My grandfather and his brothers would argue with good humor about the merits and downfalls of being Canadian versus being from the States.
The history of the Heatleys starts about the same time as the Turnbulls with James Heatley ( 1768 to 1824) living in North Cumberland in western England. There is a family lore that one of King Henry the 8th’s six wives was related to the Heatleys. With that many wives and a limited number of nobles, it is not surprising. The Heatleys lived in this part of England for many generations. It is interesting to note that this area is less than 50 miles from the River Tweed in the area of origins of the Turnbull clan. Henry Heatley immigrated to Ohio in the late 1800s, where Grandfather Al was born. The family moved to Northville in the early 1900s.
Both grandfathers were businessmen and friends.
poem. *
Interconnections
Two countries, a border apart.
Distance of 50 miles apart.
One came through Canada,
The other , Ellis Island.
Making their way to Michigan.
A Catholic and a Baptist.
Traveled to the new world.
To become the best of friends.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 6/1/26