dogs like berries

This vacation has been filled with all the most delectable summer things:

- leisurely reading from borrowed/recommended books including Gilead and What We Talk About When We Talk About Love (I'm stealing someone smart's observation that these are both about earthly truths, but at the opposite ends of that spectrum)
- sunscreen and sunning on a dock
- swimming in the Great Lakes
- an inordinate amount of mosquito bites, mostly on my feet
- berries...

...to which I will devote this post. For the past few years my parents have had an attractive gravel pile at the side of their house. In the best argument for the payoff that comes after waiting through ugly that I can imagine, the gravel pit has blossomed into a bunch of black raspberry bushes (I just learned they are black raspberries, also known as blackcaps, different from blackberries). Which happened to come to fruit during my visit home. Today we spent some minutes picking three containers of them, except the ones the dog got. Turns out dogs, at least my parents' healthy dog Roscoe who thinks that freshly picked peas are delicious, like berries.

midwest vacation, week 1

serendipitous delay in philly, catch up on ZZZZs
family reunion celebration, big house with Grandma Ada spirit:
We Get Too Soon Old and Too Late Schmart (or is it Shmart?) plus dinging clock
appleton over a lake from oshkosh; yes that one: overall
perfect-weather BBQ with cousins tall and small
lots of dancing and loving family like in dream weddings

up wisconsin; this state has lakes too
east to da U.P., Upper Peninsula of Michigan for all you non-ganders
stop in Wakefield, commune with the spirit of our Great Matriarch
north to get Ontonoganized
Jampot stop: monks appear loaded from bountiful jam sales
Eagle River, Lake Superior = wow is the only word that suffices (and cold)

...in marquette, i bought a guitar...

no chupacabras, just Pictured Rocks beauty to make you mute
what's a cell phone?
3 miles to the lake, 4 miles along, don't fall
3 miles back makes us tired
yes indeed we brought our dog
(take that, ranger lady)

south to st. ignace, look at all that beach
one margarita makes art buyer of me
evening by a fire - free for all who stay
i might be a folk singer but
play, play, wish i could play
someday

and then

the bridge.

farewell, remote Michigan. until the next time, and i hope people continue to forget about you, because you are an awesome vacation spot. (despite places named mosquito inn and misery bay: they will keep real tourism away).