Michigan Vacation

My week-long vacation started off at a spa in the Wisconsin Dells. My only regret about this vacation was that the spa was BEFORE the cottage trip with the kids. Why didn't we think of going to the spa AFTER spending five days in a two-room cottage with five kids? I slept with a child under each arm on a futon for five nights. NOW is when I need the spa!!

In any event, I was with three girlfriends from college at the spa and then we drove to Manitowac, Wisconsin to load up the van on a car ferry and cross Lake Michigan. The ferry landed in Ludington, we were met by another girlfriend, a B&B and then the cottage. As most girlfriend gatherings go, we laughed, we cried, we prayed, we ate Peanut M&Ms.

Ah, but here I must insert my story about George. As we drifted across Lake Michigan, we entered into one of our favorite pastimes, singing. I'm the only non-music major in the crowd, but I'll still sing with the birds when invited. My friend Beth taught us this lovely song that can be sung in a round and we belted it out. About the time we were singing the last bit of the song, a man with a long, grey ponytail approached our group and stood nearby leaning against the wall. (Enter George) We didn't pay any attention to George and kept right on talking and shrieking and laughing.

George watched and listened for about 30 minutes when he suddenly burst into our group smiling and laughing saying, "Your voices are a symphony. I've been standing here listening and when you talk and when you laugh its music. I came to listen to your singing, but when I got here you stopped. Then I stayed because I realized your voices are music. Each of you has your own vocal tone and the words, the laughter, the talking over one another, makes beautiful music." Of course we loved this adoration and only egged George on. He came back a few minutes later saying, "I have walked around this entire ship and you all are the best people here!"

It was music to our ears to hear that someone appreciated the artful zest for life our little group prides itself on. (George's opinion was not necessarily held by all the other passengers. After about three hours of hilarity we settled down to read and rest. One man walked by and said, "So you ladies are taking a break now so you can party all night??") Hilarious.

The girlfriends' gathering ended on Sunday and my parents drove my children up to the cottage to meet me. Mary Poppins' husband brought her three children and the seven of us settled in for a week of exploring Ludington, Michigan.

Playing at the beach on Lake Michigan

Freezing on the beach. Water temp was 56.

Have you ever taken your kids on an outing that used up every drop of energy you had? All of us had had all the fun we could handle for one day. We were at the beach for hours. It was great, but when it came time to pack up we were quite a sight. We coached the kids through picking up all the water toys, we shook out sandy blankets. Suddenly everyone needed to go potty. Everyone was parched and starving. Mary Poppins and I loaded ourselves down with beach paraphernalia and started plodding toward the van. We were singular in our focus of getting to the van, leaving in our wake five crying children. Each child was carrying something and every single one of them was weeping and wailing. Once at the van, we would unload our parcels and return to rescue the kids. (Something like the airline phrase, "Please secure your own oxygen mask before assisting your children.")

As we trooped toward the parking lot, our shrieking little ducklings behind, I looked up and saw a familiar grey ponytail blowing in the wind. "George? Oh my word, its GEORGE!" Mary Poppins and I looked at each other in shock, dumbfounded by the sight of the grey ponytail blowing in the wind. The symphony of our lives a few days before, reduced to a shockingly dissonant cacophony.

Did we call to him or in any way draw additional attention to ourselves? OF COURSE NOT. I wanted the bedrock reality of both symphony and cacophony in my life to be my own little secret when it came to George. Let him go on thinking of us as magical musical maidens. Why does he need to know that the reality of our lives involves shrieking, wailing, whining and exasperation? I barely want to know these things, surely George doesn't need to be brought in on this reality!

And finally,

Another favorite phrase from our trip was, "OK kids, come on in and bring your guns."

We bought 12-shooter rubber band guns for the kids at a craft show. They had a blast with the shooting range we made.

Aiming at water bottles.

Getting snapped by a rubber band while learning how to string the pistol.

Every good and perfect gift comes from above. Thanks be to God.