My paternal grandfather came to the United States in 1913, before WWI and the Bolsheviks taking over. He came from a German colony in Russia. He floated into Baltimore, then went to Cleveland, learned the trade of a tool and die maker, and moved to Detroit and worked non-stop during WWII.
During the 1940s, he started a t&d shop in Alpena, Michigan and bought a cottage seven miles south of Alpena for purposes of renting it to rich Detroit folks. It had a tennis court in the front yard and Lake Huron in the back. My parents honeymooned there in the late 1950s. By the late 1960s, it was growing dilapidated. My father and two brothers became the owners. It burned down in 1981. Insurance re-built it, and my father eventually bought out his two brothers.
I've been going to this Paul Bunyan territory every year for 41 years (excepting the summer after the cottage burned down). I spent the last week there with my wife and seven children. It's a great spot for children and beer. The TV gets one station, and there's no Internet connection (except for a cellphone aircard for my laptop, which worked slowly and inconsistently). I got there Saturday afternoon and got home two days ago.
Here's the cottage from the front:
Cottage from behind (lake side):
Side of cottage, Lake Huron in background:
View of Lake Huron from behind cottage:
The cottage faces East. It has great sunrises:
The Cranberry Creek runs next to the cottage and creates a delta. A toddler can walk about 40 yards and still be at waste level (Tess (2) is the little shadow):
On August 1st, Max turned four. We took him to Dinosaur Gardens in Ossineke (three miles South of cottage) for this birthday (we didn't tell him that we go every year). It's a neat place. The place was established by my grandfather's friend, Paul Domke, who made all the statues himself.
The main attraction: A brontosaurus. The inside has a picture of Jesus at the top and statues of three men in the Bront's belly (Shadrach, Meshack and Abednego). This is a picture of the kids and me coming out:
On Thursday night, we dropped off the seven with Marie's brother and sister-in-law (Marie is from the Detroit area, but her brother coincidentally married a nice gal from Alpena). We went to John Lau's for dinner, then checked out the Fletcher Street Brewery. It's a great joint: a run-down warehouse converted into a brewery, then they added a bar where there's nothing but drinking (no food sold, but you can bring your own) and music. Rumors say a local boy with backing from Chicago money (and state funding) is dedicated to renewing the run-down Alpena River front. He's doing a good job. Pictures from the inside and the view from the outside drinking area:
On Friday, I took the seven out to see my Uncle Walter (94). He and his son Dennis have a small farm that has two buffaloes. In this picture, the kids are feeding them apples:
All in all, a good trip. Hopefully, regular blogging will resume Tuesday.
In the meantime, can anyone answer this: Why am I so daggone tired during vacations? I hear it happens to a lot of people. Does a person unwind into napping laziness? Is it the fresh air? Is it the pure brutality of trying to get seven kids out the door for seven days (but if that's the case, why does it affect others that have a normal number of children)? The comments box is open.
Two asides:
Book that I bought for my father while on my trip. Its official release date isn't until September:
Paul Bunyan and ox Babe statues in Ossineke:
