Tag Archives: Family

thanksgiving weekend 2025

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Thanksgiving weekend is one of my favorite times of year. Although B and I had to work a little more than usual – ideally I would take the whole week off – it didn’t dim any of the luster. It’s laid back and there’s (usually) no craziness. We eat, we run, we enjoy each other’s company with fires in the woodstove and lots of candles, we take time to remember why we love living here, and we plan a Black Friday outing that does not center around shopping.

One of our favorite traditions is our local Thanksgiving Day turkey trot. No registration, no chip, no bibs, no t-shirts, everyone pays a few bucks to cover the insurance and whatever extra goes to the food pantry. This year it was cold and blustery and we rolled out of bed and ran the half-mile downtown to the start – along with neighbors, dogs, strollers, kids, the local run club, and many turkey onesies. Our little run raised over $500 for the food pantry and an anonymous donor matched it. We are thankful for many things and our community is always one of them.

We had ham this year because the kiddo is not a turkey fan (“it tastes like – meat”) and it was just the three of us so we can eat whatever we want! She spent hours the day before making a French silk pie that is truly a labor of love and B made his family stuffing recipe, so all of us contributed something to our meal. The Lions lost but Jack White performed a quick but electric halftime show with a special appearance by Eminem. (Two well-loved Detroit musicians who continue to represent.)

Past Black Fridays we’ve skated in the shadow of the big Christmas tree at Campus Martius in downtown Detroit and others we’ve visited John King, the enormous used bookstore, followed by burgers at Checker Bar. Unfortunately, Checker Bar suffered an electrical fire in January so we switched things up and went to Mercury Bar for lunch and then on to Michigan Central Station. It was beautifully decorated for the holidays and full of people admiring the decorations and taking photo opps. I tried to tell the kiddo that when she was just a baby this proud space was in ruins, full of broken glass and the winter wind, flooded with gallons of water, and possibly vampires; and now it shines with love and luster, green boughs and baubles, polished marble and wreaths. I don’t think she believed me.

I think one of the things I like best about this time is that it allows me to imagine what life will be like when I’m less tied to a corporate life. Right now my path is clear – I work, and am well compensated, and I am responsible for my daughter, and my home, and our lifestyle. I tuck my yearnings away inside myself during my work weeks and find satisfaction in the life I have now and there’s a lot of it! I like where I work and I like walking into our building and saying hello to people I’ve known now for over 20 years. I like knowing the answers to things and I like my paychecks and our healthcare and my robust retirement savings and I like that when my daughter needs something I don’t have to think twice about it. All of these things are true blessings and I am thankful for them every day while at the same time knowing that I’ve worked really hard to get here. But I am also thankful that I can still see a life past these things, that there’s still a little spark inside me that dreams about buying a cabin in the woods of Sweden or retiring early to become a crossing guard. I don’t want to wish my life away by hoping that the next decade until retirement goes any faster than it has to. The universe has always put me where I should be to achieve the things I need and I am grateful- but in the meantime, maybe a little manifestation and dreaming can help it along.

Now we’re watching an incoming winter storm which seems like the perfect end to a long holiday weekend. We’ll be curled up by the fire eating leftovers. I hope wherever you are, you are also warm and happy in that intersection between gratitude and dreams.

senior pictures – notes from behind the wagon

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sneak peek #1 from behind the wagon

Senior pictures tested my mom skills in a way that they hadn’t been tested before. I already knew I could handle a dance and the related shopping and planning. In fact, senior HoCo had gone off well, I thought – the navy blue cocktail dress with the side sash that we’d ordered on a whim came in the nick of time. It was understated and elegant and very unlike the bright sparkly sheath dresses with chunky white heels that a lot of her classmates picked. Her boyfriend, like last year, wore a traditional suit with a matching necktie and polished dress shoes. They looked classic, elegant, “old school cool”.

Senior pictures were entirely different and I’ve been sweating them since her junior year. For whatever reason, it’s possible that I put more pressure on myself with these mom-centric occasions that maybe I should. I am determined to the end of my grit and determination to make each of them the absolute best for my daughter that I absolutely can and often pay a high price in worry and fretting. How do you find a good photographer? How can you be sure of the weather? What the heck does she wear? Those pictures are forever! It felt massive and daunting. The kiddo was fairly indifferent about the whole thing early on while I tore my hair out. Neither of us wanted summer pictures- we wanted fall color. However, between her marching band and EMT cadet schedules, every fall Saturday was booked except for one lonely little day there which I marked with a big circle.

With the help of a 2025 graduate friend, we found a photographer and by some miracle she had one slot on that one Saturday. When the day came, it was hot and clear. Due to the very warm and dry autumn we’ve experienced in Michigan, the fall colors here are very disappointing. We met the photographer- a no-nonsense, open and friendly woman with a brisk handshake who instantly put us at ease. She had scouted a couple of locations and put me to work pulling her massive utility wagon behind them as she and my beautiful daughter strode long legged amidst the small historical village and trails she’d picked. It was hot and I labored with that wagon up and down hills and trails and at one point the sky did open up with rain and we huddled under her golf umbrella while she and my daughter cheerfully assessed where the color might be best once the shower stopped – up that hill? (Please no, I can’t pull the wagon that far…) We saw groups of kids from a neighboring high school descend in small knots for their own Homecoming pictures. I saw many of the boys wearing (dare I say it – rumpled) black pants and black dress shirts with white sneakers, sunglasses, and neon bow ties matching their dates’ bright dresses – definitely not the ‘Mad Men’ vibe that my kid and her boyfriend had opted for, but it was fun nonetheless to watch their camera poses and exchange waves and smiles with other beleaguered parents.

After almost two hours of shooting and one outfit change, backdrops of field and fence, trees and trail and barn and silo and fieldstone and old columned porch, with the weather laying down on us like sweltering August, I had sweated through my shirt and my shoulders ached, but my heart sang. I gratefully surrendered the wagon to the still-buoyant and daisy-fresh photographer and thanked her for what I am sure will be some amazing photographs and memories. The kiddo and I were completely wrung out and the day ended with her crashed on the couch with Quarter Pounder, grateful removal of her makeup, and a bad vampire movie while I thanked the senior parent gods for guiding me through another one of these milestones. 

sneak peek #2 from behind the wagon

There are only a couple of these senior-specific challenges left that I have to rise to meet and the most dreaded one is left for the spring – the graduation party. That, my friends, is going to make senior pictures look like a literal walk in the park.

so let’s go where we’re happy

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It’s been awhile since we’ve had a proper catch-up, so on this early Saturday morning, in bed with a cat, coffee, and a head cold, I’ll do just that.

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We flew to Raleigh last weekend for a several-days-long birthday bash for Brandon’s dad. Relatives flew or drove in from all over the country. We had a splurgy dinner at the Angus Barn, a Raleigh steakhouse staple. Brandon and I split the tomahawk and a bottle of Shiraz and we ended up taking more than half the steak back to our hotel. (Brandon ate it over the next 2 mornings with eggs from the breakfast buffet! Until I finally told him that I thought our refrigerator was not keeping it cold enough to try for a third day and he reminisced about the Simpsons episode where Homer is determined to eat the entire sub sandwich despite it going slowly bad.) We enjoyed a rooftop evening at the ZincHouse Winery eating appetizers courtesy of his sister (this winery lets you bring in your own food! brilliant) and pizza from their food trucks and watching the ‘speed weddings’ in their gazebo. We walked in the historic Oakwood Cemetery and of course that brought to mind the song that inspired the title of this post (see end) which is still stuck in my head. We cautiously crept into the office to use the restroom, and the bespectacled young woman sitting in the sifting light from high many-paned windows with plants and stacks of headstone samples was delighted that we were Michiganders. She whipped out a map and with a green felt-tip pen, showed us where we could find a bit of home; at her advice, we found the grave of Ouida Estelle Emery Hood, who detested Raleigh so much that her husband buried her there in 50 barrels of Michigan soil.

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My socializing is a little hit or miss, and I don’t usually look forward to traveling, but I know for many years when I look back on this spring, I won’t remember the little details. I won’t remember the commutes, the office days, what I ate for lunch or what outfits I wore, but I will remember ambling through the cemetery among the quiet Confederate dead, bright planes of southern sunshine, hearing the mockingbirds and smelling the lush honeysuckle tumbling over the iron fences.

Back home in Michigan, the spring is still launching. We bounce between cold snaps and hot days and the pollen has fallen like a smothering yellow veil (no doubt contributing to my sinus issues). The kiddo and I went to the re-release of one of my favorite movies (which she now also loves) – the 2005 ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and it was even more beautiful on the big screen. Otherwise, she is busy this spring of her junior year with soccer (I wish I could share her varsity soccer picture – she looks like a gorgeous young Valkyrie) and the SATs and starting up her summer plant nursery job and did anyone else know that Detroit has a women’s professional football team? I didn’t. But tonight she and her EMT cadet class are serving as medical support there, so I’ll be driving her and (I suppose) watching my first game.

I hope you are all well. I need to go eat something and take some sinus meds and if I feel better before the football game, I would like to check out opening day of our Farmer’s Market – I’m looking for some local honey, which I’ve heard can help with seasonal allergies. Take good care of yourselves and each other. xo

maker space – a long story, full circle

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It was 2002. My post-college job at Big Chemical had – after seven pretty awful years that weren’t wasted because they became integral to who I am now – finally become untenable and I quit in February without any real plan of what came next. I put my furniture in storage and my parents painted the sunny front bedroom in their old farmhouse pale lemon for me. They put my mom’s paintings on the walls and a new quilt on the bed, and my two cats and I moved home.

It was cold, living in northern Michigan. It snowed all that March and April and sometimes I was sad. I tried to keep a routine; in the mornings I walked on the treadmill and then fired up my enormous old Gateway and printed out resumes. The high point was being home with my parents, some of my favorite people. I felt worried sometimes, and anxious. Watching their shows on television with them, eating my mom’s good cooking and tagging along when they went to the little strip mall over the hill, I was never lonely. It had a bait and tackle store, a little card store, and a Ben Franklin.

My parents did their big grocery shop at Ben Franklin and occasionally my mom and I would go next door and peruse the little card shop. One day my mom came home with a little amber bead necklace with a striped fish charm. They were handmade by a girl in town and the card store had a few on display at the counter.

The next time my mom went shopping, I went with her. Ben Franklin had a grocery store and a hardware store and a little crafting section and while my mom did her shopping I wandered over to look. It would be another few years before I taught myself how to knit, and my forays into crochet and embroidery had been interesting but not especially fruitful. That day, though, I saw bags and bags of seed beads, clasps and elastic, and despite my limited budget, I thought about that little amber fish necklace and made a few tentative selections.

I made a few clumsy necklaces but within a few weeks, I had an interview downstate at Widget Central, and soon, was hired and moving again. The cats were packed up and the yellow bedroom turned polite and impersonal and although I didn’t know it then, I was starting what would be a 20+ year adventure. The bead box was forgotten.

i am always looking for a simple beaded earring. Czech glass.
bag charm – protection from gossip and dark intentions

Over the holidays, cleaning out my home office, I came across that forgotten bead box.

dispatch from a northern weekend

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Seeking the snow last weekend, our first stop was my mom’s house – almost 4 hours north, on the west side of the state. Snow was knee-high (conservative estimate). Brandon and I woke up Saturday morning to run the Betsie Bay Frozen 5k, which is one of my favorite events. It hasn’t been run since 2020, before the world shut down. In the olden days I would have posted a full separate race recap with my time but in today’s world, post-50 years old, having survived a pandemic, menopause, teenage kid years, the Orange Menace and his Nazi cohorts attempting to ruin democracy as we know it, and various other life events, just getting out there and running it is enough.

We then drove 2 hours further north, to the village of Walloon Lake, which is most famous for being young Hemingway’s Michigan playground. We found a historical marker, and there’s a statue of him somewhere around, but the wind was blowing fine snow into whiteout conditions everywhere so we gave up looking. Instead, we skied at Boyne Mountain (the kid snowboarded) and enjoyed our perfect little Vrbo. As we get older, my ability to stay in a hotel has decreased significantly. I hate being cheek to jowl with mass humanity, having to either pay for every meal and snack or rely on hotel coffee and crumpled snack bags. Give me an AirBnB or a Vrbo every time. I know they’re wreaking havoc on small communities but selfishly I want exactly what we had this weekend. Which was a cozy cottage on a private lot with a fireplace, hot tub, separate bedrooms for us and the kid, a beautiful living space and kitchen, fully appointed. We cooked, we had good coffee, we had a fire, we watched movies, read books, I knitted, and we had privacy. I threw caution to the wind and ate what I wanted to eat, drank Horny Monk from the Petoskey Brewing Company, and made a fool out of myself on the slopes. (I fell. A lot.) The snow was almost claustrophobic – piled higher than street signs and just continually sifting down. The drifts outside the Vrbo were up to the windows with paths cut into them to access doors and the driveway – if you don’t have a snowplow or a snowblower running constantly, you would have big trouble.

All in all, it was a perfect swift getaway with my two favorite people. The world is hard right now and being away for a bit is a luxury. We don’t have a lot of travel planned for the year, so the times we do have together will be all the more important.

the crazy between-time

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Thanksgiving came and went and we are plunged into that crazy time-between.

It was a busy week. Work is always hectic at this time of year. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it here, but my wonderful manager left Widget Central* in September and since then, I’ve been wearing many hats. As the “legacy” member of our regional team, despite my lack of interest in working more, being recognized or promoted, or “getting to the next level”, I’ve organically been slotted into a de facto leadership role. It’s not super comfortable for me but I’ve been in the department for sufficient time to know how certain things should go. I can keep the lights on and provide some stability for my younger team members from Japan, Mexico, and Brazil for the time being. This week was all about intense negotiations to conclude a major contract, researching some new opportunities that bear some potential risk, responding to many inquiries and requests, monthly reports, redlining new contracts and preparing for and presenting at a Committee meeting. My work and calls ended well after 5 yesterday. I have 9 working days left this year although I’m sure there will be emails and calls while I’m technically on vacation and that’s okay if it makes coming back in January less onerous.

The boy cats had vet appointments (Emmett has a mild ear infection and has to have a dental cleaning and possible extraction in January) and on Thursday night I drove the kiddo and another young lady from our neighborhood to their EMS Cadet training. The kiddo has been very locked in to her schoolwork this year and has developed a strong interest in the medical field. She is participating in HOSA (an extracurricular organization for health care students). And the EMS Cadets are a fairly intense bimonthly training in which they learn the ins and outs of emergency medical care. Next year they will actually be doing ride-alongs with Superior Ambulance, although not in Detroit proper. She was named Sergeant of her Cadet class this week and issued her fluorescent orange polo, stethoscope, flashlight and blood pressure cuff and I almost died of pride right there on the spot.

I don’t mind taking her to the trainings because I log onto my computer, settle into the lounge, get an extra two hours of uninterrupted evening work done, and the EMS staff has a popcorn machine and they always make fresh hot popcorn for us…they are funny and welcoming folks.

Now on Saturday, the weather in SE Michigan is still cold and blustery. Brandon put up the Christmas tree last night and although tonight is the town holiday parade and tree lighting at the Governor’s mansion, we are all exhausted. The kiddo has been at a HOSA competition all day after a late night indoor soccer game last night. Brandon is on the couch sleeping in front of football and I’m just as happy to sit on the couch in the back room in front of the fire and watch Vlogmasses on YouTube. The cats have forgiven us for the vet visit and I am trying to finish knitting a pair of mittens to donate to Mittens for Detroit.

Wherever you are, I hope you are happy and healthy and surrounded by kindness and good people. xoxo

*Annual disclaimer that workplace name has been changed for general anonymity.

indignation and reproach

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Brandon, being the reincarnation of an English butler, has long been quietly repulsed by the old cat tree in our den. It came to the house when Sarge and Emmett were kittens and has had 10 years of constant cat love. It is built like a Soviet prison bloc, been scratched down to the wood, and is prone to releasing great puffs of shredded carpet fibers throughout the day.

To make him happy I splurged on a new Mau Pets cat tree. He thinks it looks like a work of art and happily spent Friday night putting it together. It has baskets, removable and washable fuzzy cushions, and is taller than the old one. The cats watched with an initial flurry of great interest which shifted to alarm and then distress when the old cat tree was moved to the basement.

So far – the cats have not used the new tree. I’ve promised any early adopter some extra shrimpy treats but nope. Instead we’ve found them in various places to sleep- a basket of dirty laundry. On the floor a few paces from the new tree.

And lastly, down in the basement sitting in the old one looking reproachful.

We’ve started a pool to see how long it takes them to forgive us.

the hours rise up*

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The kiddo’s summer job at a nearby plant nursery is costing me a fortune even with the “employee mom” discount. She doesn’t have her license for a couple more months so every time I pick her up or drop her off (or make a trip to deliver something she forgot – hat, sunglasses, sunscreen – or bring her Dunkin’ or Starbucks- because I am a good mom slash pushover) I see some new plant that makes my eyes go googly. And let’s not even talk about the times she texts me a picture of some flower or vine and I tell her I’ll be there asap to bring it home.

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It’s been the last full week of school with all the accompanying hustle. Even though my last real post ended with how much of a withdrawn introvert I am, since then I’ve experienced a burst of vitality. In the past week I’ve gotten the kid’s physical taken care of for the next school year, helped out with soccer uniform return, gotten us pedicures, run a Board meeting, run a Shareholder meeting, negotiated with a major automaker or two, mowed the lawn, met up with my bestie for breakfast, checked out our local art fair, planted, run 10 miles (not all at the same time), and gotten us / her to work, school, and band on time. This is no small feat and my Hobonichi is smoking.

I’m sleeping fewer hours – the long Michigan days have a discernible effect on my energy. It’s not fully dark now until after 9pm and I feel almost manic with vigor. This will wane along with the daylight as we move through the summer solstice but for now I am weirdly – awake.

The other night my eyes opened at the ungodly hour of 3:30 to the sound of a single disoriented bird singing. I listened for awhile, then got up for a drink of water. In the bathroom, I leaned on the sill of the open window. The backyard was bathed in moonlight and it was creeping through the pines at an almost perceptible pace. A clutch of deer drifted in absolute silence through my garden, pausing only to nose among the plants for their evening nibble. They moved like ghosts and for a long time I stood there and watched them, almost unsure they were real. The solitary bird sang on and I thought how odd it was to be awake and see the citizens of night, whose world it is, in this night land, when we are all asleep.

*”the hours rise up putting off stars and it is dawn into the street of the sky light walks scattering poems” – e.e. cummings

long spring catch-up post.

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I hate to make proclamations but the spring so far has been okay and vastly better than the winter was. I’ve avoided making this observation because – you know, the proverbial ‘other shoe’ – but in my little corner of the Internet no one is really listening anyway so knock wood and let’s goooooo.

Making. My only recently finished object is a – dishcloth. (I subscribe to the Kitchen Sink Shop newsletter and every month she sends a free dishcloth pattern!) I am a slow knitter. I have two pairs of socks (plain vanilla on 9-inch circulars) going (they’ve been my springtime soccer field knitting), as well as the Cozy Comfort throw from Homespun House, and I have the Shift kit ready to cast on as soon as I finish the socks (and as a side note isn’t Andrea Mowry just absolutely gorgeous and so cool? I wish I could have that kind of edgy yet laid-back coolness). I’m also really close to finishing a cross-stitch kit (a little A-frame cottage). As usual I have too much stash, too many projects to start, and not enough time, and I still keep finding new kits, new patterns, and new yarn to fill all the nooks and crannies of my dusty little office / crafting space. I need to lock in and get some finished objects. (As usual you can find me on Ravelry as sixtenpine.)

Reading. On vacation in the Bahamas I blew through all seven of Martha Wells’ ‘Murderbot Diaries’ and would have just kept going if there were more. These were sci-fi about a futuristic security unit android that attains some level of cold human observation and affinity. SecUnit (or ‘Murderbot’ as it refers to itself) spends the seven novels alternately amused, horrified, sympathetic, fascinated, and repelled by the humans it is charged with guarding and its internal monologue is (for me) un-put-downable. After Murderbot I plunged into some dry histories (I went through a massive Mary Queen of Scots phase and then some Romanov which was depressing). Slogging through beheadings, conspiracies, doomed royals and the events of Ipatiev House might not have been the best overall choice and sadly my reading slowed down a bit. I’m trying to jump-start it with the new Tana French ‘The Hunter’ but it isn’t really doing it for me yet. (I wish she’d go back to the Dublin Murder squad format.)

Watching. Brandon and I finally watched ‘The Bear’ and loved it. I hope next season we get more of the Richie comeback and more Fak. The kid and I are watching the first two seasons of Twin Peaks (a multiple rewatchable for me, her first time) and she’s hooked. I’m debating about whether she’s ready for ‘Fire Walk With Me’ and you know, no one is ready for season 3 The Return. Maybe if I rewatched it, I’d understand it more. While Brandon is in Iowa during the week, I watched ‘Marie Antoinette‘ on Prime (LOVED it) and caught up on ‘Nordic Murders’.

Life Stuff. As I said, I think things have evened out from our winter of discontent (it was a tough one). Brandon still spends weekdays in Iowa and weekends here, and that has made for some adjustment, both for us as a couple and our family unit. It’s not ideal but we are working through it and understanding (or trying to) that it’s just a season of life and it too will pass and fade into a new season.

I am still dealing with pre-menopause health issues which all in all are pretty minor compared to some horror stories I’ve heard. HRT has helped with the mood swings, night sweats and recurring monthly pain and nausea. It hasn’t helped much with brain fog or weight gain, but I just have to keep pushing through. I try to eat well without restricting, and get out 3-4 times a week either to the gym or for runs around the neighborhood. I’d love to lose 20 lbs but I’m also not willing to head into the land of diet culture to do that, so for now it’s bigger pants. [shrug]

Soccer, soccer, soccer. Spring sports are a lot but this soccer season for the kid was fun and for the most part, laid-back. They’re not the best team but they’re not the worst, either, and manage to have fun and enjoy themselves even when they lose and when they’re playing in downpours or gale force winds. She just started a part-time summer job at the local family-owned garden center / plant nursery and I am hoping it’s a great vibe for her, working outdoors with little growing things. She has a male friend (ahem) and after several years of being at home with us every evening, now, on occasion, he’ll pick her up and they’ll get food or go to a school sporting event or movie. She is hoping to get her driver’s license this summer on her birthday and so I feel we’re on the verge of a big jump forward in terms of maturity and independence…I am alternately dreading it and looking forward to it. She took an AP exam this week, is mostly indifferent about her grades yet but still gets things done. She’s a good kid and we laugh a lot when we’re together, which is a lot, especially now that it’s just the two of us during the weekdays when Brandon is away. I have to balance the feeling that she is my best friend these days with the reminder that I am the parent, as well, and so that’s been an interesting line to tread.

Despite things being easier than they were a few months ago, overall, I am in a mostly introverted phase. And since I live my life as a baseline introvert, for me to say I am in an introverted phase probably realistically means I’m full-on hermit now. I viciously culled my personal social media feeds this winter and just don’t post much anymore. I’ve pulled back from volunteering for school things and the parent text threads. Work has settled back down into it’s usual place in my life, instead of waking me up at 3AM in a cold sweat, and if that means that some days I only can do what I can, that’s the way it is right now. I no longer have the bandwidth to put energy into things that look “right” but don’t feel “right” or pay back in emotional dividends and that runs the gamut from doing everything and more at work to trying to look like the perfect normal active cheerful mom in the neighborhood and school community. Hustle culture, social media pressure, competitiveness and comparison – it’s all real and I’ve had to seriously duck back into my introvert shell and focus on us – my little family – and how it feels instead of how it looks. We do our own thing and for us right now that’s healthy and positive.

sunday breakfast

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Sundays have never been my favorite day but in January – o January, my old nemesis – they took on an even gloomier cast. With Brandon working in Iowa, Sundays feel even worse knowing that on Monday morning he’ll pack up and be gone. Yes, I know he will be home on Friday, but spending weeks apart from your partner can be lonely and hard even though I know that he loves his job and that I’m perfectly capable and independent enough to run my life on my own. I just miss him.

In January we started doing Sunday breakfast and it’s sticking around. We make pancakes, some with chocolate chips and some without, have eggs and a breakfast meat, drink coffee and enjoy butter pecan flavored syrup. The kid wakes up before noon to join us and it ends up being the shared meal of the week. We linger at the table for awhile and enjoy the carbohydrate sweetness of family togetherness before the week starts all over again.