My Summer Vacation

I'm back. As you know, I've spent the last week in the land of dial up. Also, Mrs. Maiden does not know about the blog. Both of which make for awkward posting.

First, the basics: We got there Saturday night, and left on Sunday morning a week later. The kids had a great time; MasterP, while not a great napper, didn't do too badly at night. Thankfully, we remembered the night lights and sound machine, as we discovered on our last trip that the remote village Mrs. Maiden lives in is both TOO DARK and TOO QUIET to sleep.

Berries were picked, beach time had (both at rocky beach and sandy beach), and campfires complete with s'mores were enjoyed. Auntie and Uncles adored. My Auntie could not come, as her doctor refused her request to drive the 18 hour trip on her own at 73.

Husband, Bigbrother and brother in law worked like dogs each day cutting down dead trees and pushing the bush back from where it had spent the past 3 years encroaching on the yard.

Addresses were not made. It was a little as if Marie Antoinette planned the memorial - except that there was pie and cookies instead of cake. But about 20 people came, and raised a glass, a fork, and some flags to Himself. And as MlleL said at the event, "He's the only grampa I miss, Mama." And also, while jumping on the bed and discussing things with our next door neighbor "I wish Grampa could come back from God." Reasonable sentiments, both.

But it was the discussion on the eve of the memorial that brought the most reflection for me on the way home. During planning what would happen the next day (which didn't), we discussed the house, and what would happen to it, in the vaguest of fashions. Would we come up? was asked of the three of us and our spouses.

Uh, we guess, was the answer. Shrugs and nods occurred. Mrs. Maiden expressed her fantasy where this would be the place we came to, piling in and taking the boats out for a paddle. Despite the probable reality that the week we return each year would be spent much the same way as it was this time - with the guys working like dogs to keep up the property and the wimmins entertaining kids and cooking, she wanted us so badly to say that this was where we considered our home to be.

But where is your home town? I had a professor say that it was where you graduated from High School. In which case then, South Haven is my home town. It's where I graduated (the first time). It's a nice place to visit. It's beautiful, but there's nothing. I really don't even know many folk I went to high school with - with the exception of High School Best Friend of the same name as me Katie B. (Now Katie H., but she'll always be Katie B. to me.)

Is it through length of connection to a place, or is it your future there? (But, Mrs. Maiden said, we've been coming here for 25 years!) Is it where you've finally decided to make your home as an adult? Where you've bought your house and had your kids?

Is it where you have the most emotional contacts made? Husband and I killed ourselves to get to the annual Beef Barbecue - a homecoming for the village and it's disparate children. We drove 13 hours (had to keep stopping to let the kids out of the car.) We got there after the dinner, and before the dance really got going. We walked up to the town hall, conveniently located at the end of the driveway, and into the dance hall, ready to say hello and let the kids run a bit before bedtime.

What we got was open mouthed stares. Not welcoming smiles, not waves, not even a hello.

Now. It's possible that they were in awe of our intelligence and good looks, but I'm not convinced. It's not like they wouldn't know who we are, for goodness' sake, there's not even 20 people who live in the village full-time. We've been coming there for 25 years, after all. Shouldn't be a mystery.

What had just happened was the only brown person at the event had just walked in. The Island is populated by Scotch descendants and Ojibwa. While they blend a bit more down island, up at the west end, they don't so much.

Is this my home town? I wouldn't say as much. I'm happy that Mrs. Maiden has a place that she feels so emotionally tied to, but me?

I had a nice time, and a good visit. Wasn't long enough with Bigbrother or Littlesister and her delicious husband. (Four days in three years isn't enough, Auntie M. - we are discussing a trip farther East in the next couple of years... stay posted.)

While all of those things are true, I'm glad to be home.