traveling up and down the blind highway

After my last blog, one of my readers commented that he thought I lived in a rural area. I would like to explain that I have lived in several towns and cities all in Michigan. This has taken me from the Metropolitan Detroit to the rural Village of Ada and Grand Rapids, Michigan. We are 33 miles from the eastern shore of Lake Michigan. In between, I have lived on a 120-acre dairy farm, in a bicentennial town, the capital of the state, Lansing.
My hometown is Northville, known as the Swiss Alps of Wayne County. In the 1920s, there was a ski jump located here. I learned to cross-country ski and ice skate on the several fresh spring-fed ponds in the area. The population of a little over six thousand has been constant due to the township surrounding it. I grew up in a close-knit community, knowing my neighbors and my family’s friends.
I attended Eastern Michigan University in Ypsilanti. It was a short bike ride to visit the University of Michigan’s campus. The politics of the 70s nurtured many of my liberal views.
Upon graduating, I married and moved to the state’s capital, Lansing. My first husband, Mike, was active in the UAW, or the United Autoworkers. Mike was an early promoter for people with disability rights. He had Multiple Sclerosis and used an electric scooter. I became an advocate for the physically and mentally challenged.
After a divorce, I met and married my second husband, John. John had a 120-acre dairy farm on the west side of the state. He rented out the land and house to another family. We lived in rural Cedar Springs. It is similar in population to my hometown of Northville. We lived on a main road with many farms around us.
Finally, we moved to the small village of Ada, with a population of 14,000. It is located on the crossing of two rivers, the Grand River and the Thornapple River. The Grand flows from Hillsdale County from natural springs to travel across the state to end up at Lake Michigan. It is joined by the Thornapple River at Ada. This area has given me an appreciation of nature’s diversity. Its many bike trails have given us an opportunity to tandem bike throughout the area.
Grand Rapids, the second-largest city in the state, is fourteen miles from my home, giving us access to theater and cultural events. The International Art Prize has been a two-week art show featuring many events and venues . It has been running since 2009.
Our next move may stop our western moves to the shores of Lake Michigan. I have gained knowledge and insight with every change. I write from those experiences.

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A poem
From Lake to Shining Lake
On the Detroit River, between Lake Huron and Lake Sinclair. I started in the Swiss Alps of Wayne County.
Moving with the Grand River, I migrated west to the Capital at the state’s center.
Continuing to move west, I landed where two rivers merge.
Now I wait and rest.
Lake Michigan prevents further western movement.
carolaspot@aol.com
2/23/2026 copyrighted

It was to be our 34th wedding anniversary lunch.
“Honey, where would you like to go?”
“We haven’t eaten at the First Wok for a while. Let’s go there.”
We have celebrated at this restaurant for a number of years. We both know the menu by heart.
We went early to avoid the crowds. John noticed that the snow hadn’t been shoveled from the sidewalk from the evening before. A small sign on the entrance stated:

“Closed indefinitely due to a fire.”
Well, now what?
I remembered there was another place on the other side of town that we had eaten at, and the food was comparable. We drove the 20 minutes to the busy Beltline. The Golden Wok’s sign said they were open, but the notice next to the door was from the state license bureau that had pulled the license, and the building was closed.
“Now what do you want to do?”
“Ask your phone for Chinese restaurants near our location.”

“PF Chan is on the other side of Beltline.”
It took almost as long to turn and cross the busy six-lane highway as to drive across town. Finally, we pulled in and parked.
The decor was deep reds and golds. Though the room was large, the music was muted, and the conversation was subdued. We were seated at a table for eight. The waitress brought our ginger hot tea in a cast iron-decorated pot. “Are there any lunch specials?”
“Here is our menu.”
All the items were à la carte. We decided to splurge and take a chance on this new eating establishment. We both ordered “Hot and sour soup.” The ceramic bowls had a spicy chicken stock with thin strips of carrots, peas, and cabbage still crunchy. The soup was served with the traditional flat spoon. My vegetables kept slipping off my spoon. Finally, I gave up and waited for the entrée.
My meal was crunchy honey chicken. John ordered orange chicken. His had a good portion of vegetables, while mine had none. We shared our meals. There was plenty to take home.
For dessert, John chose a peanut butter pudding covered in chocolate. I ordered egg rolls. Both were flavorful. Mine was served with small fried noodles and a side of a mixture of mustard and oyster sauce. I found the mixture well balanced for my palate.
As the waitress started to clear the table, John mentioned that this was our wedding anniversary celebration.
“Congratulations.”
When the bill came, she smiled, “Your dessert is on the house.”
Though the bill was higher than we normally have, John gave a 20-dollar tip. We will return if for no more than to claim our two complementary desserts.

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A poem
Going Chinese
Two gilded horses stand guard on the patio.
Reds and golds in subdued lighting.
Low murmurs mingle with calm music.
Fancy dishes framed each entree.
Hot, spicy tastes, crunchy textures.
The meal lasted over an hour.
We will return soon.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 2/16/2026

This week here in Western Michigan, we may finally have temperatures above 32 degrees. Though we have had some sun, the snow and ice still cover the roads and sidewalks. Michigan winter weather can be extreme. I recall my Dad delivering flowers for a local florist on Valentine’s Day in a blizzard. Compare this to 2023 when the warmest Valentine’s temperature was 54 degrees. With Punxsutawney Phil’s prediction of six more weeks of winter, we are looking for small signs of the coming spring.
First, we have more than 2 hours of daylight added for a total of eleven hours and eleven minutes of daylight since the solstice. The sun is higher with the Earth’s tilt making the sunlight feel more intense. When cross-country skiing , I have developed a burn on my face and neck in February.
The intensity of the sun is starting to melt snow on our roof, forming icicles.I have heard water in the downspouts during the afternoons. Snow melt is seen running into the storm drains.
I have heard the return of songbirds in the area. Chickadees, with the call of “chick a dee dee dee,” the male and female cardinals’ song of “cheer, cheer, cheer” or “birdie, birdie, birdie”, and the small tufted titmouse is distinctive in their song of “peter, peter, peter.” I have heard the chickadee and cardinal song this week.
Despite the snow covering, small areas of winter-whipped helleborus plants are exposed. The blooms will form in early spring while the snow is on the ground. Snowdrops are delicate white hanging bell-shaped flowers that can bloom as early as January even with snow cover. They usually appear in small clusters. They thrive in moist, shady spaces. I am looking for this first herald of spring plants to appear.
The hanging dried berries of the bitter-sweet vines attract song birds. In the spring as other food sources become scarce. Fox squirrels will also feast on the dried fruit. The Cedar Waxwing loves dried bitter-sweet fruit. The Waxwing gets its name from the red-tipped feathered wings, resembling the melted wax from candles. Robins are also fond of the dried fruit. I have seen birds perched in the bittersweet arbor in February. I wait, looking for the elusive subtle signs of early spring.
&***. Poem
Icy grasp

Winter holds the land in its icy fist.
Snow-frosted branches mimic death.
Warming sunlight releases a bit of green.
Weary birds perch on the bitter-sweet vine.
Hoping for more signs.
It’s a matter of time,
before the spring’s sun will shine.
carolaspot@aol.com
Copyright 2/9/2016

By the time of this writing, the prediction results are not in. This event has occurred since in 1887 in Punxsutawney Pennsylvania.. The celebration combined the Indian folklore tradition with the older Christian celebration of Candlemas Day. The day marks 40 days after Christmas. It was to commemorate the presentation of the baby Jesus at the Temple and Mary’s purification. New candles were brought to be blessed. It also marks the turning point of winter.
The number 40 is a biblical number symbolizing transition. The 40 days that Noah endured the flood in the ark, The Israelites wandering in the desert before entering the promised land or Jesus fasting in prayer in the wilderness. Christians will enter into Lent, a 40 day period of fasting, prayer and giving of time, and treasure.
So as we watch the news to see if Phil sees his shadow and returns to his burrow. Take time to make some homemade tater Tots. They are simple to make and taste better than the frozen ones. The recipe is below.
three finely chopped or grated potatoes
a 1/tbsp. of flour
Salt and pepper to taste.
oil for cooking
1 grate the potatoes in a bowl
2 squeeze the extra moisture from the potatoes with a cloth and set aside

3. Add a heaping Tbsp of flour the potatoes.
   4.Mix and form into balls and place on an oiled pan.
4. Cook in the oven for 25 minutes at325 degrees stirring 1 to 2 times.
   Remove and serve with condiments.
   Enjoy.

***. Poem
Turning the Corner
Days of winter, cold and snow.
North west winds across us blow.
Weary of the dark and white.
Hope for early spring in sight.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyright 2/2/2026

Though we have made and distributed peanut brittle for many years, I never knew the origins of the confection. The story I heard was The first peanut brittle recipe was first published in 1893 in Good Housekeeping Magazine. Though George Smith, a candy maker from Illinois is often credited with making the first recipe, he was said to be experimenting with recipes for caramels. There is another story that a Southern housewife from Alabama accidentally made brittle when she used baking soda instead of cream of tartar, while making taffy. The soda created a bubbly light crisp texture. A third story involved Civil War soldiers cooking candy with peanuts and molasses. The candy became popular in the 1920’s when it was mass produced by the Herman Goelitz Confectionery Company , now known as the Jelly Belly candy company. reaching national popularity in the 1950’s.
Other varieties include cashew, walnut , pumpkin seed and sesame seed. There are chocolate dipped and spicy candy for all tastes.
Below is the basic peanut recipe that we have used for years. When making the candy a thermometer is used to know when to add the raw nuts and the baking soda mixture.
Peanut Brittle Recipe

1 1/2 tbs of baking soda
1 tsp water
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup water
1 cup light corn syrup
3 tbsp butter
1 pound raw peanuts

Butter two cookie sheets, put aside.
combine sugar, syrup and water in a large heavy pot.
Put baking soda in a small bowl,
add vanilla extract and a tsp of water.
Cook the water, syrup and sugar until the candy thermometer reads 240 degrees.
Add the raw peanuts and butter continue cooking until the candy reaches 300 degrees.
Add the vanilla, baking soda and water mixture be very careful the
candy will froth, Beat well ,remove from burner.
pour half of the candy on each sheet. allow to cool.
When hard, gently remove the candy with a spatula.
Break into pieces and store in a container.
Have fun making candy on this National Peanut Brittle Day.
carolaspot@aol.com copyright 1/26, 2026.

Though a bill was introduced in the House and Senate in 1968 to make Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. birthday a holiday, it was not considered an official national holiday until 1983. During the time between, many local cities changed a major road to be renamed for Dr. King. In my capital city of Lansing the main street Logan was renamed for the civil rights leader. This was the first time that a private citizen was given a national holiday. The words day of service were added to promote community.
In past years, I have worked food banks, collected empty bottles and cans to donate the deposit.
My women’s church group have worked in groups to knit and sew rectangles to make blankets for the homeless and those in need. Two projects I have worked with are Project warm up America group collects knitted and crochet rectangles to sew together for the homeless.The Linus Project knits or crochets blankets for needy children.
Serving the community is a year long activity. But you can start a project now and pay tribute to a man that stood for non-violent solutions to bring people together.
Now I give of my treasure, time and talent to give back to others. What do you do to support your community?
***. poem
Dr.King preached a way of non-violence.
Even in the face of hatred.
Each of us can play a part.
On this day of service.

Give a smile to a stranger.
Open a door for another.
Gather papers to recycle.
Remembering, this our home
to share.

carolaspot@aol.com copyrighted 1/19/26.

.

January leaves little to look forward to. Snow, cold and winds create a palette of whites and grays without the relief of colorful Christmas lights. But for an old Girl Scout, this is the season for ordering traditional Girl Scout Cookies.
I recall waiting for the start date for taking orders for shortbread, thin mints and peanut butter sandwich cookies, favorite friends. Each year, a new cookie is introduced. Lemonade, friendship chocolate dipped and fruited jewels are introduced and discarded.
I had a vivid memory of one year the starting date fell on a day with two feet of snow. With no school and my Mother!s attempts to entertain failing, she suggested I take the cookie brochure to the neighbors for orders. Suited for the weather, with a clipboard in my hand, I ventured out. I found most of my neighbors snowbound as well. As I pushed my way through the frozen tundra, I was greeted by bored housewives and their children looking for entertainment. Even cars were not on the roads in my neighborhood. I was the only person wading through two feet of snow to ring front doorbells. Several people commented on my dedication. My sale total was high because of the lack of competition.
Each box of cookies earns a small portion for the troop and the scout counsel. That day, I sold over 80 boxes of the treats.
Times have changed. Cookies can be ordered and received in several days, compared to the month to fill the orders. Many troops order a large amount of all the cookie types and man cookie booths in local grocery stores or malls. The whole troop split the profits the to pay for camping and other trips.
When I was a GS Cookie Mom, John and I would be given boxes of cookies ordered by the troop. We divided the orders out into individual scout orders. There were one or two girls that were late bringing a check or cash to pay for their order. Eventually the payments were straighten out.
Today, there are drive throughs where you stop, give your order and take home your cookies at the same time. Gone is the month or more of anticipation.
My favorites? Thin Mints and Shortbread cookies top my list.
Recently, cookie orders can be taken online and delivered to your door. They can arrive in as little as 4 days.
Whether you get your cookies from an individual Scout from a troop sale or online, you will find this sweet will support a hundred year old tradition.
***. poem
Cookies
First cookies were homemade .
In 1934, They sold nationally.
Memories of scout cookies bring smiles.
From generation to generation, Thin mints and Short bread flavors rule.
I will be on the lookout for a girl scout booth.
carolaspot@aol.com copyrighted 1/12/26

It is Epiphany or the twelve night after Christmas. The creche scene is the first to be wrapped and packed for another year. The figures are six inches in height and hand painted by Aunt Joy for our first Christmas together. Given as a wedding gift from Aunt Joy and Uncle Bob. The small band of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus have been added to in the last thirty five years. There are two cows to keep the baby warm. The Magi number has swelled to five after one of the men took a header off the mantle. A sow and her piglets have a home in this kosher stable. The sky above boards hold twinkling white rice lights. Angels adorn the night over the birthplace of Jesus. Every year, one or more of the angels fall to the earth their light extinguished. A small woods emerges from the corner to protect deer and squirrels. Among the oddities are a beaded girl made by John’s Mom. A wind up Catholic sister that emits sparks from her mouth as she walks. A large stuffed angel that hangs from a hook under the mantle because of her large size.
Of the several trees, one of bisque was given to john cousin Kennan. A light in the stable’s ceiling mimics the starlight glow. Shepherds herd sheep and goats to visit the Christ child. Many of the flock have lost an ear or horn over the years of small hands handling them . The stable itself was made by John, after the family sheltered in the trees.
The camel with a bell around his neck waits in a corner beyond the stable’s walls.
They all make their way to the birth of Our Savior.
They journey across the mantle to the Holy Family for Epiphany. Then it is dismantled, wrapped in tissue paper and lovingly packed away for another year. The memories of many Christmases are stored in that box. I smile to think that some day these gifts will pass to another for creating a new Christmas tradition.”O come, o come Emmanuel.
***. poem
God is with Us
Opening the box , unwrap the figures.
Light the sky with angels and twinkling lights.
Old friends are paired with new additions.
The mantle is crowded with visitors to the stable.
All surround the manger where the baby sleeps.
Memories of that first night mingle with the present.
Make room for Him.
God is with us.
carolaspot@aol.com copyrighted 1/5/2

As the year draws to a close, I think of the time we are given and how we choose to spend it. We can spend time, waste it, share it, give to another, lose track of it and find time until time is up. There are ways that I can improve my use of time. By making time for others is never a waste of it. As humans, we are given a set time line to complete our lives. We may think we know our purpose and what we wish to accomplish. But God may have different plans. Instead of being angry, I remember that I am the clay not the potter. As Tom Monaghan, the co-owner of Domino’s Pizza, once said, “My purpose is to get to heaven and bring as many others with me along the way.” Seen in that light, accomplishments are not my own but given to me by God and others. I am grateful to all my friends and writers that have encouraged me along the way. As I progress down the path to the narrow gate, may I find it open and hear the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant”.
May we grow as we travel together for another year, God willing.
Blessings in 2026
Carol Farnsworth
***. poem Closure

 
Clouds hide the closure of another year.
Happy and sad,
failures and triumphs,
conflicts at home and abroad,
warming trends,
killing of innocence.
I grow weary of it.
But I still hope in the future.
To be kinder.
Sharing with strangers.
To be at peace with myself,
and nature.
I say farewell to the past.
Look forward to a fresh page.
Start the next chapter.

printed in December’s Spirit Fire Review 2025
carolaspot@aol.com copyright 12/29/255

As I put the last tags on gifts, I remember back to the excitement and mystery of this time of the year. As a youngster, my brothers and I served at midnight Mass as choir members or alter servers. The novelty of staying up well past midnight, walking through the quiet, calm of evening and coming home to have a breakfast at 2 in the morning, created special memories.
For most of my elementary school years, I donned Christmas green robes with a white scapula hanging across the shoulders and hanging down to the waist. The ends of the scapulas were closed in a point forming a small pocket. I would place a hankie inside. The robe had no other place to carry this needed item. We would precess down the center aisle to stand in front of the communion rail to sing carols before the Mass started. After our performance, we precessed up the side stairs to the choir loft where we had a birds eye view of the whole congregation, and Mass. Often, my three older brothers served at the Mass. My Mother would leave a short while before the church service ended to start our breakfast.
One of the dishes was Clam chowder, with small round crackers floating on the surface. Another was a wedge of quiche, made with cheese, mushrooms and bacon. Hot coco was the drink of choice for us children. I believe that my parents hoped that the late hour and a full stomach would keep us sleeping until the sun rose. My excitement woke me up early. I would go to see if Santa had arrived. My mother would allow me to take my Christmas sock back to my room. I could open it and play with any toys until the rest of the family awoke. I recall one year I received a magic baby bottle. It would be filled with a white liquid. When tipped to feed a doll, It would disappear. I fed my whole doll collection while I waited.
Morning found the family gathered in the living room, around the aluminum tree with Christmas records on the counsel. I don’t remember if we opened gifts before or after breakfast. I suspect that when we were young, we were too excited to eat. Later, we had a light breakfast first. My Mother’s coffeecake with individual rolls were topped with white icing and walnuts. The middle roll sported a candied cherry.
With seven family members, there was never enough room under the tree for all the gifts. Larger items could be hidden behind chairs, under the desk or near the fireplace.We opened one gift at a time with others watching. We were expected to pass the gift around for others approval. One year, I received several pairs of panties. Embarrassed, I quickly closed the box mumbling Thank you.
“Carol, show us your gift.” Dad inquired.
He grab the box, opening it to show all what I was hiding. Another year, My Mom got a professionally wrapped gift ,when opened she found a mink stole.
I remember receiving a life size baby doll that could be fed with a bottle. A diaper caught the liquid. The doll was a gift from Uncle Tom and Aunt Kathleen. The doll had luminous dark blue eyes and real eyelashes. Having just had eye surgery and lossing my lashes, I proceeded to pull out all the lashes so she would match me.
After breakfast and clean up, we would drive to Grandma Jenny and Grandpa Clifford’s home for a second Christmas celebration.
Smiling, I place a bow and tag on a small present of a finger puppet for a niece, hoping it will foster a new memory.***. poem
Never Too Old
You’re too old to hang a stockings,
put out cookies and milk for Santa.
Listen for reindeer bells.
I wonder if the magic is gone?
Opening my drawer, I find a long green and white sock.
I Place it hanging on a knob in the hall.
With little expectation, I slept dreamless.
Morning light finds a lumpy hose.
Inside, I find nuts, an orange and a candy cane in my sock,
That old baby bottle from ago.
Christmas magic!
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 12/22/2025