traveling up and down the blind highway

This spring, I have seen increased activity around the feeder. In the early morning, a large male fox squirrel scampers up the steps to beg for fresh seeds. Standing at the sliding doors, he stares into the kitchen with a sideward glance.
Later he will be chasing other fox squirrels across the yard and up the nearby trees.
Last week, I noticed a new visiter to the porch. A mother squirrel tentatively climbed up to the table, looking for food. I saw her nipples on her chest were swollen with milk. Feeling sorry for her, I threw out several peanuts. Gathering them in her cheeks, she raced back to her brood.
I kept a lookout for the smaller female. One morning there was a juvenile with her. She stood back allowing the baby to find and eat the seed.
Over the next week, One or two small squirrels visited with their mother to gather seeds. This week, there was a disturbance in the squirrel colony.
Two black squirrels from across the street, crossed the road to scout for food. The fox male squirrels produced a series of barks and clicking sounds. Much noise was heard in the trees.
I would like to report that all found room and food. The fox squirrels were chased further into the woods. Now black squirrels dominate.
Like people, squirrels would fight rather than co-exist with different neighbors. Lets hope we are smarter than the squirrels and work to get along.

photo description
An adult squirrel sits on a box on a porch. She looks with side vision into the house, waiting for her treat of seeds. The small woods is pictured in the background.

Squirrel

Scampering up , down the tree for seeds.
Quickly she gathers to savor the feed.
Used husks drop aside.
In piles spread wide.
Ready for another day.
Requiring work and play.
Eagerly, waiting for food cast.
Looking, ,watching remembers times past.
A child smiles, tossing a fistful of nuts.
Happily observes the squirrel fuss.

carolaspot July 17, 2023

Ice Cream with Dad, Sweet Memories, July 10,2023 488 words
My younger brother Brian, reminded us in his weekly updates from Northville about our Dad passing five years ago. My parents would have celebrated their eighty first wedding anniversary this week. They taught their children to share with others. I would like to tell some stories about summer in my hometown.
We all had bamboo fishing poles, I had a round red and white bobber to float on the water. My brothers had a small cork bobber with a stick protruding from the top and bottom. This helped the bobber to remain upright. The line below the bobber had several small weights to help the line to sink. A hook with a barb on the end helped prevent the fish from escaping.
We would fish the nearby creek or the pond at the fish hatchery. But the easiest fishing was at Grayson’s home on Seven Mile. Mr. Grayson had a small pond dug on his property. It’s water supply was a natural spring, of which Northville had many. The excess was used to water the garden.
The fish were feed each day. by theMr. Grayson. They were trained to follow a person on the shore in anticipation of food. The local fish hatchery supplied bluegills and bass. I would watch for the bobber to be pulled below the surface, I would jerk the pole upward. Occasionally, the fish would be pulled right out of the water.
We usually removed the hook and let the fish go.The Mr. Grayson would cook the fish he caught on an open fire.
Another summer treat was walking to Guernsey’s on Center. Both of my Grandfathers would offer me a dime to buy a large scoop cone. On the side of the counter was a dispenser of red shelled pistachios. The dye on the shell would stain my lips and tongue.
In the town you could get a cone at Cloverdale. The cones were that same as Guernsey’s but the cost was higher for their sugar cones.
My dad continued the tradition of allowing his children to go as a family to purchase a cone on Sunday evenings. I ordered coffee flavor, dad favored butter pecan. We would sit outside the store savoring the treats. My mother never ordered a cone. She was busy taking each cone from a child to twirl the cone giving it a quick lick to clean the drips of ice cream from the cone.
So on this hot, sultry afternoon, I lift my cone in memory of past summer evenings with my family.

Cone Race

A large scoop of ice cream perches on the cone.
Summer heat causes drips in colors.
Mom licks cones to keep then from dripping.
Tongues work the sides, pushing the ice cream lower in the cone.
I bite the end of my cone to suck the cream out the bottom.

carolaspot@aol.com July, 10, 2023

With the advent of warm, sunny weather, more people are biking. Many drivers don’t pay attention to bikes and pedestrians at marked crossings. My husband and I try to make ourselves visible while riding the tandem bike. We both sport bright matching yellow shirts, colorful helmets and have reflectors on the bike pedals. Sometimes all of these precautions aren’t enough.
Last week, we were stopped at a busy crossing. The light turned green for us so we started to cross. An older woman, without stopping, tried to make a right turn in front of our moving bike. Her car was scraped by the bike rack. Then she drove off.
John was livid. He was yelling at the motorists, “Call 911!”
We crossed the road to find the woman driver did return to the accident. She tried to explain that she had to go to the next road to note her location.
“Didn’t you hear the impact?” “I have your license number.”
John was sure that she was going to continue on her way.
Continuing to the store, two other drivers were aware of the tandem to backed up from crosswalks. Another driver, stopped in the street to allow us to cross holding up traffic.
Though we don’t expect such special treatment, we do hope that people sharing the road will display simple courtesy. A bike has the same right to be on the road. We are not alone with biking problems.
Our deacon related another biking story with a dog walker. He had a incident with a dog on a retractable leash. Coming downhill, he noted the walker on the other side of the path but didn’t see the leash and the dog on his side. squeezing both brakes at the last minute, impact was avoided but he went down with the bike, breaking his leg.
This year, on the deacon’s first ride after healing, he was riding up to two women with an unleash large dog.
Stopping, he inquired,”Can I tell you a story?”
“O yes, The dog owner replied”.
“Last year I was in an accident with a large dog”. This is my first ride after healing from my injuries. “I am scared of large dogs …like your’s.”
The woman, leashed her dog. Our deacon waved as he rode away.
Fear sometimes prevents us from reacting with kindness. Even humor can play a teaching role.
We were again at a crossing with a cross light. Two police cars approached the intersection and turned right in front of us, without lights or sirens. A third police car did slow before turning.
This my husband dryly remarked,”Must be late for a doughnut break.”
As the roads become busier, we all must be aware of people in the crosswalks.
On our local bike paths, there is a reminder that impacts between cars and bikes are hazardous. A father and his seven year old son were biking on a bike path. The father was a little ahead of his son. As they crossed the road with the light, a car turned on the red light and struck the boy. He later died. The memorial of toys, flowers and photos is a constant reminder that we must be aware of our surroundings and watch out for the young, inexperienced riders. Keep our roads safe for all.

Crossing

At a road, I spied a simple cross.
It stands beside a small white painted bike.
In memory of a rider who lost his life.
Stopping, I say a quick prayer.
Hoping to keep the little ones … safe.

carolaspot@aol.com July 10, 2023

Last Monday, John and I took our tandem for a ride to Ada. Normally, we would have rode the 13 mile loop around the township. The air had a astringent taste. The smell was prevalent with burning . A haze was seen resembling a fog.
Coming back home from the library, John was short of breath on several up hills. Opting not to ride the longer loop, we heard the air quality was in the dangerous range. People were asked to limit their exposure to the outdoors and don’t exercise. Feeling foolish, we vowed to remain indoors as much as possible.
Attached is a photo of the sunset on the highest pollution level. The Sunlight was diffused. The sun’s bright light was dimmed to resembled a rising full moon rather than the setting sun.
A neighbor flew his drone 100 feet over the area. looking towards Grand Rapids the horizon blurred and disappeared.
The birds and small mammals are changing their habits. A flock of blue jays were pushing to eat at the feeder at the same time. Normally, birds will wait and take turns. The flock of 8 birds couldn’t all eat at the same time. One blue jay became disoriented and flew into our slider door, breaking his neck.
Smaller black birds the size of sparrows were feeding , throwing the seed out of the feeder. The family of robins in the lilac bush was active with the parents pushing their offspring to fly. One baby was left in the nest to fend for himself.
Squirrels and chipmunks continue to feed for long periods of time. We only see this behavior when the birds are readying for a migration. Deer and racons are active both day and night.
The smoke has has limited the number of bees in the garden flowers. Smoking bees signals the hive to gorge on honey to prepare for relocating the colony away from danger.
My brother Bob, reported the fires in Alberta have sent smoke and ash high into the atmosphere. A funnel of south moving air is streaming through the Great Lakes and creating hazardous conditions for people and animals alike. This is a wake up call for people concerned with global warming. The Canadian fires may continue to burn into the fall.
Limit burning and make sure fires are contained and dosed with water when done with the cook out. Sparks from the flames or ashes can ignite dry grasses.
Keep yourself and your environment safe. We all have a stake in protecting Mother earth.

Burning

Burning weeds is a practice to clear land.
Usually, it is controlled with water.
Recently, the water is scarce.
Now, we see fires out of control.Now,
Time to change our way we handle fire.
It could be too late for many areas.
Never to see the old growth woods again.
Gone, up in smoke.

carolaspot@aol.com. July 3rd 2023

Last Thursday, we experienced the summer Solstice here in Ada, Michigan. Daylight was 15 hours and 22 minutes. The sunrise has moved east behind our little woods.
With days starting to shorten, I become melancholy thinking about time passing. A life is made up of memories, good, bad and ugly ones. But what about friends and family members that are living with dementia? How do we interact with a good friend who no longer knows us. A sibling with sensory and cognitive losses or a spouse who needs help recalling events from the recent past?
We will all age and change. How can we age gracefully?
Cultivate a sense of humor. As a speech pathologist, I find it hard to allow my brain to sift through words to find the correct one. Often, the word is a similar sounding word. I find that relaxing and given time, I will say the word I want.
Losing where your body is located in relation to a room layout can be frustrating. Moving to find a piece of furniture or rug can give a person an anchor. Don’t hurry. My worst accidents have happened when I was distracted. For example, I was walking and looking at my new I phone. I ran into an open door and bounced backward falling to the floor and breaking my hip.
Tackle harder tasks early in the day when you are rested and not stressed. If you are tired or upset, take a break or short nap.
Above all, know you can still do many tasks, but they will take longer and use your energy.
Each day I center my thoughts to accomplish one task. Taking time to enjoy the work. There will always be something on the “to do list.”
Take time to talk to a friend. Listen without trying to fix the problem. Just be supportive. It will be time well spent.
Feeling better after completing my blog, I can go for a bike ride.

A bicycle built for two

A marriage is a bicycle for two
balancing in the shared ride.
we alternate who is in the driver’s seat
as the other takes the stoker’s
supporting role
Different strengths, overcome deficits
move as one, through this day.
We will worry about tomorrow another day.
Carolaspot@aol.com June 28, 2023

In the U.S. the official holiday started in 1972. But the day to honor fathers can be traced to the middle ages. In Catholic Europe, the original celebration was March 15. The feast day of St. Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus. People would parade through the streets carrying a statue of the saint. The procession would end at the church for mass. Often a feast would follow.
Fathers would be blessed and honored with small gifts and flowers from their children.
In Germeny, all the fathers gathered and were seated in carts to be paraded to the town’s square. There, the man with the most living children was given a prize. It was usually a large ham or sum of money.
In Hawaii, a pig roast was given to fathers by the younger men in the community. Leis were placed around each man’s neck to denote him as a honored guests. In the United States, the day first started in 1910, in Spokane Washington. It was initially a father-daughter breakfast after a church service. It has been celebrated in many parts of the country since then.
Growing up, my family had two grandfathers as well as my dad to honor. I attended a summer recreation program in the summer. I would buy and make plaster of Paris, leather coin purses, and crepe paper to produce a gift for each of them.
Mom baked a sheet cake decorated to resemble a folded dress shirt. My brothers and I vied for the cake piece with the candy tie clip.
We would have a picnic in our back yard with dad charring the hotdogs and hamburgers.
Later, when we had joined the Northville swim club, we spent the day swimming and sunning at the pool. Dad would challenged each of us to race one to two lengths of the pool. He usually won.
In the evening, after a light dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches, we would gather on the front porch. There we would talk and greet neighbors walking by. Often, we would be there until the mosquitoes drove us indoors.
My memories are filled with grilled hotdogs, potato salad and shirt cake.I still hope for the candy tie pin.

Dad’s Day
His day,
celebrating
All the Dad’s in my life.
Lazy days spent with the whole family.
Good times.

carolaspot@aol.com

Water and it’s source is not usually a problem here in Michigan where we are surrounded by fresh water. But this spring, we are facing our own drought.
In the past month, less than one half inch of rain has fallen. This is great for outdoor activities, it’s not good for farmers and gardeners. Sprinklers are heard daily as neighbors try to keep lawns from going dormant.
We are unfamiliar with water conservation. Many of us pour on the water, thinking that more is better. We could learn a lesson from people living in drier climates. Farmers in California have changed their crops to those that use less water. They have switched from almond production to grow tomatoes garlic and beans to conserve water and replenish the soil.
In desert areas, crops can be grown with drip irrigation to use small amounts of water.
Homeowners can monitor their sprinklers to water the grass and not the road. Better yet, gardeners can water small plots of garden by hand to prevent over watering.
Remember the animals and birds in your backyard. They may need a container for water to bathe and drink. The smaller animals need a daily supply of water that they can reach.
Until the rains return, be mindful of water as a tool but not a right. We all need it. We all use it.
Now with the wild fires in six out of nine Canadian Providences, The smoke will further block the sun’s ability to evaporate water to form rain clouds. Currently the air quality is moderate to poor. Air is filled with pollen and smoke. All of us have a stake in keeping the earth healthy.

Water, water, everywhere
But not enough for me.
Sun is hot, clouds are few.
No rain do I see.

Do I fill the pool?
Wash my car?
Use the sprinkler to cool?
While others are water starved.
Be a good steward,

carolaspot@aol.com June 12th 2023

Here in the Great Lakes area, we have 22% of the world’s fresh water. Besides the five lakes surrounding the two peninsulas, our state is dotted with many smaller lakes and rivers. With all that water, we have a large population of bugs.
June is especially buggy, as the larva hatch in standing pools of water. Gnats the smallest bugs don’t bite, they swarm in clouds, trying to fly into nostrils, eyes and ears.
The largest bug is a June bug or beetle. it can grow from a half inch to over an inch in diameter. Not harmful to humans or pets, they will eat fruits, grasses and tree sap. They can be messy if hit by a car’s windshield. Fish flies are an unusual bug. Long and thin, they gather on the outside of buildings. They are grey to black in color. If you get close you will smell why they have the name of fish fly.
One of the nastiest bugs is the deerfly. Larger than a common house fly, the deerfly is present for a short time in July. Sporting clear wings with black veining, the deer fly has large yellow or green eyes. It is found near water in tall grass. The bite of this insect is painful, usually with a piece of skin removed.
Dragonflies are large graceful flyers. In Michigan, the Green dasher can be seen hovering on the waterfront. Though not prone to biting, if captured they will defend themselves.
Swarms of mosquitoes are found in the woods. They can be avoided by not walking at dawn and dusk when they are most likely to draw blood.
To enjoy the Michigan outdoors, a few precautions are suggested. If walking in a bug infested area, wear protective clothing such as long sleeves and pants, select light colors. Finally use a commercial bug repellent. If you would rather have a natural solution, brew some lemongrass, mint, lavender to apply to the skin Marigolds and eucalyptus in bouquets will also discourage bugs.
Don’t let a few insects spoil your outdoor fun.

Dragonfly dashing in their iridescent green
racing , hovering over water
acrobatic feats displayed
graceful in appearance
one to a area
never in groups
free spirit
look close
Yikes!

Carolaspot@aol.com June 5th 2023

My brothers and I looked forward to the summer months. Not for the hot days nor the warmth nor the sport opportunities. It was the bountiful garden of food.
My dad sold appliances from Grandpa Clifford’s store. Mom had her hands full with four boys and myself. Creatively cutting up one round steak to feed seven mouths, she piled the plate with veggies. Summer was the easiest season to feed her growing families bellies.
From my earliest memory we referred to summer not as months but what we harvested. A basket of black walnuts were in the basement to await yearly shelling. The green husks had had been removed in the fall. We had a long handled nut cracker to break open the dried nuts. The natural dye in the outer shell turned my brothers’s hands black. A brother was asked,
“What is that dark stuff on your hands?”
He replied, “I am spending time with you, My skin is turning black.”
The first crop from the garden was asparagus shoots. Mom steamed them and added to a white sauce to serve over toast. She stated that this was a spring tonic. The smells from the toilet proved her correct.
Strawberries were the fruit in the berry patch. We had to hurry to pick them before the birds.
My favorite pickings were in the raspberries ,where they grew in a fifteen foot long row of bushes. I would crawl under the bushes to eat the ripening fruit on the bottom branches.
Raised to use what was given to us, we had a steady supply of carrots, radishes, peas and beans. Our small patch of pumpkins were harvested for their seeds and then carved into jack o lanterns.
I foraged for morel mushrooms. They reminded me of a wrinkle brown elf cap. My brother were sent to the spring fed creek to pick water crest for salads and sandwiches.
Frogs were caught and brought home for the preparation of fried legs. I could never eat them because the green color of the meat.
We had two old apples trees in the back yard. Eating the fruit before ripened, we suffered through many stomach aches, but we continued to eat the fruit.
Our neighbor , Mr. Eaton, grew a dozen fruit trees. We were invited to gather tart cherries, peaches and winter pears. I would take a brown bag to pick t mulberries on the way home from the recreation department. Learning to pick the blackest fruit to have the sweetest taste. The small green stems had to be bitten off each berry.
My older brother Bob, was sent to the local A and P to purchase over ripe bananas at 10 cents a pound. We teased him because the banana aroma stayed on his clothes until bath time.
When older, we would visit the grandparents homes. There we could find Vernors pop, vine grown tomatoes and a never empty cookie jar filled with windmill shaped almond cookies.
The early lessons in trying new foods helped expanded our appreciation of a varied palate.

free food
grown from the ground,
natures gifts, freely given,
learn where to forage we gather
bounty
carolaspot@aol.com. May 29, 2023

I loved to play in my home’s basement. It had a door to the garage and outside. There was a half bathroom with bamboo fishing poles and discarded sport equipment. I would try on the brown boxing gloves, finger the mermaid figure with hooks and try on lifejackets. Each panel of The walls were written with measurements to note the growth of my brothers and I.
As interesting as this exploring was, going down to my Grandpa’s Heatley’s basement was a rare treat. The basement had a set of outside cellar doors. When opened, they had to a low ceiling area that held the washer and dryer along with bits of the past. When I was young, Grandpa kept us out of the basement by telling us that he kept snapping turtles he caught to make turtle soup. I don’t recall any turtles or home made soup. But Grandpa was a jokester. There was an inside door to the basement. It was located in a large storage room between the dining room and the kitchen. There was a toilet in this room because the only bathroom was located upstairs. Often, when I was using the room, The lights would flicker and go out, leaving me in the dark with the sounds of the old house around me.
Grandpa would listen to my tales of sounds and would remark with a straight face, “it must be the ghost of the former owners”.
When I was a teen, I was able to explore the basement as I helped to clean it out in preparation for selling it.
I still wonder where the golden doored church music box went. It would play a Carol as the doors slowly opened to reveal a Christmas tableau then close.
There was a wooden alligator that Grandpa told me was real.
On top of the television, there sat a model of a sailing ship with metal sails. On the deck of the ship, was a clock in the place where cabins would have been located. I would put my eye drops on the deck to remind me to take them at noon and 4 PM.
In the china cabinet were several china cups that had a piece to drink through to protect a man’s mustache from getting wet while he drank his coffee.
I found several old dolls on a dusty shelf in the basement. My Grandma said that I couldn’t have them. They belonged to my aunt Kathleen. I thought that she had left her home and was married with children of her own.
When the old house was renovated, the owners invited my mother to see what they had found in the walls. The items included a windup alarm clock with a bell on the top, one toddler sized button shoe and several shoe buttons with a medal hook to pull the button through the opening. Mother put all the items in an discarded cigar box from Grandpa’s barber shop.
Did my aunts and uncles as children hide them, drop them between walls or were they a game of hide and seek that finally ended 50 years later?
The final mystery was a mummified remains of a bat found under the hole in the front cement steps. I have put them all in my memory treasure chest to spin a tale for another day.

Memory pieces

A brass windup clock
shoe buttons black and white
a wooden alligator
a glass doll head with blue eyes
A humidor with brass walls
A set of pipes, with the faint smell of cherry
A mustache cup for with no one to use it
Two deer heads with large glass eyes..I touched
Off color postcards from customers
a musical Christmas church with opening golden doors.
Gone now to be kept in my memory box in my mind

carolaspot@aol.com May 22nd 2023