Going Places

How amazing to travel again!

It's such a relief to have my whole family be vaccinated, and to be able visit with relatives who are also vaccinated, and to share meals and talk without masks, and to see new places. After a year where the only trips we took were to our cottage in Michigan (simply to experience isolation somewhere else), we were finally able to enjoy road trips again. And visitors! That we could hug! It's been really fun, but I will also forget most of it if I don't jot it down, so here goes. (And this is a huge post with a ton of photos, so make sure you're settled in if you want to continue.)

Sunset at Humboldt Park

It's kind of amazing to realize how much has changed in the matter of a few months. Back in April we were still in unvaccinated lock down mode. We had our second Easter in a row where we limited our egg hunt to just us, and just at home. This time the weather was beautiful and we did the hunt outside. We got take-out from Damascus Gate (which was delicious, and they have been really conscientious about Covid protocols), and enjoyed a lovely walk in our neighborhood park where we all still wore masks when anyone came near.

 

But by the end of April, most of us were vaccinated. Ian and Aden and I got Moderna shots, and we had to look around for a place for Mona to get a Pfizer one. The day the Pfizer shot was approved for kids Quinn's age, he was happy to get it. We were still cautious, still not ready to abandon masks in public, but we were all feeling relieved, and ready to venture into the world again.

 

The first little trip was Aden getting to take a friend with her to the cottage in Michigan. I drove them out there, left them the car, and my mom picked me up so I could spend a few days in Detroit.

I love that Aden got to try her hand at being responsible for the cottage and to spend real time with someone not from inside our house for a change. She needed that. The cottage is a good, cozy place to be.

 

 

In the meantime, I got to hang out in Detroit with my mom, eat dinner with my friends, and just enjoy time with people I care about like life was normal. I was surprised at how fast and easy that was to revert to. There were stretches where the pandemic was forgotten, and I loved it.

And it was spring. Everything that could bloom was blooming. Belle Isle was beautiful, my mom's garden was beautiful...

On the western side of the state and just a bit further north, things were only starting to bud. But that's pretty, too. It was nice to get time at the cottage at each end of Aden's time there with her friend.

Then at the end of May, I got to drive both Aden and Mona out to New York City. Mona was still technically in school, but there's the silver lining of virtual learning! Didn't matter to anyone that she did her finals from Manhattan Island.

But before we got that far, we did a stopover in Ohio, where we got to spend time with my cousin and his family (and their dogs--we've missed having a dog around), and stay in my aunt and uncle's beautiful new home.

We got to be their first official overnight guests! And we got to admire some lovely art on their walls, much of it done by people we love. (I think this owl drawing of my mom's is spectacular in their new library.)

While in Ohio, we shared some wonderful food, visited the farmers market, and went out for ice cream. I even got a little time to carve.

Covid still kind of interfered with a complete sense of what was normal, because one of my cousins is under 12 and had to mask when indoors with the rest of us.

 

We also couldn't do certain activities like go horseback riding or visit the zoo or museum because in pandemic times you need reservations for such things. We did venture out to an estate sale, which was interesting, and my kids came away with a free set of tiny souvenir swords from Toledo, Spain. (We're assuming Spain, but in Ohio, who knows?)

Then we moved on to New York. Mona actually did a good stretch of the driving across Indiana, and again on this leg of the trip across much of Pennsylvania. (If you'd asked me when I was a teenager if I would be nervous with one of my own kids behind the wheel one day, I would have said that was silly. I resented people being nervous riding along with me when I was learning to drive. I would be a much more reasonable mom. Ha! It is very hard to keep my anxiety in check with one of my kids in the driver's seat, but Mona did fine. She even kept her head during a scary moment on a mountain road where all the trucks around us were acting insane.)

 

We arrived at my brother's home in Washington Heights well before dark, and even got to leave our car in "the lane" of the Hudson View Garden complex, which was a special treat that I really appreciated. (Because the other option is to keep moving your car based on all the different parking regulations on the streets.)

(Wall on the right will open up)

 

 

 

 

Their ground floor apartment is gorgeous, and they will be expanding into the apartment next door. The wall between the two spaces hadn't come down yet, so we got to have our own private little home in NYC right next to them! But hanging out in their space was much more pleasant, both for the ambiance and the company. (Including the much beloved Pepper the terrier.)

I got to stay for a few days to help my kids acclimate. Their aunt and uncle gave them good instructions about navigating the public transit. It's interesting how much has changed since I was a kid, because now everyone uses their phones to get around and check on trains, etc. But it's still good to orient yourself with a real map before venturing out. It's amazing how fast the A Train becomes part of your daily life if you live up in Washington Heights.

 

 

My brother and his family weren't available to venture out with us when I was there, but that worked out fine. My sister in law had gotten us timed tickets to all manner of wonderful museums, so we were set for things to do. And Aden and Mona got to see that navigating the city wasn't some magic grown-ups have. We're used to relying on Ian to get us places because he loves geography and transit. With just me? Well, we had to work together, and overcome mistakes and problems. And we did fine. (Eventually.)

We spent the first full day exploring the Union Square area. We located an art school Mona might be interested in, and I managed to lose my kids when they went to a comics-theme shop while I wandered around the Strand bookstore. There were a lot of ups and downs that day. We were tired, nerves were wearing thin, and we each had different ideas and approaches for being in the city, so there were tears. But we found great food, and enjoyed our first indoor dining experience in I have no idea how long. Restaurants were just opening up again in NYC, and the place had dividers, good distancing, employees in masks, etc. It helped make everything better. We went home to nice time with family, including a game of Code Names which we really like. (For those of you familiar with the game, you will appreciate that the most flummoxing clue was my brother telling me, "Soup. None.")

The next day was better. We got ourselves with no trouble to the MoMA. We saw a great Calder show. We saw a fascinating exhibit about rethinking the spaces people of color occupy, that spanned from futuristic concepts, to confronting the historical tragedies of whole Black towns being wiped from the map in America.

There were the famous pieces that are a treat to see by Picasso and Dali (I'm always shocked how tiny Persistence of Memory actually is in real life) and Van Gogh and Pollack and Matisse and Delaunay, etc. etc. etc.

Detail I never noticed was an archer on horseback!

My new favorite Dine--makes me want to paint my tools!

There's always so much to see, and we were able to split up and do things at our own pace, and meet up later.

The next important stop was the Nintendo store, but I wish they still had the original Pikachu on display for me to photograph my kids next to. I have so many pictures of them in that store when they were smaller! It was an annual pilgrimage for a while. I got bored with everything Nintendo pretty fast, and waited instead outside.

There was seating out there, and several food stands which we eventually decided to sample from. We shared a small lobster roll, bubble tea, food from Afghanistan, arancini from the Italian booth.... All good stuff.

We made our way back to the apartment in time to have dinner with some talented musician friends my sister in law thought I'd like to meet. We had such a great time! I even had the pleasure of finding out one of them had read my violin diagnostics guide and liked it, and he didn't know the chain of connections that had led him to it. So that made my night!

 

 

I got in a little time to carve before the guests arrived, which was so pleasant out in the garden space outside my door!

 

And one of the guests had a stunning old Cremonese violin that he was kind enough to let me hold and take pictures of. This was one of the few trips where I didn't bring an instrument to play, and definitely the time I most regretted it. Next time I go back I need to bring a viola so we can do some duets.

I don't remember how long it had been since I was able to socialize with new people at any length like that. I think of myself as rather shy, so I'm surprised how much I missed that. It was a great night.

More time with a dog again was good. Pepper is afraid of flies, but impossibly cute.

My third full day in New York, we headed out to Brooklyn where we had tickets to the KAWS show. It was good (and included an interactive scavenger hunt you could do with your phone, so that was new to me), but the museum in general was better. My kids liked it more than the MoMA. There was an ingenious "behind the scenes storage" display, and a lot of really welcome feminist representation--including a table of place settings by female artists symbolizing important historical figures in women's history.

 

There were many beautiful things I'd never seen before, including the above painting entitled "Heat," which made me laugh because the day we spent in Brooklyn was unbearably hot, so I could relate. And the detail from this painting below just blew me away.

After the Brooklyn Museum, we wandered over to Park Slope and visited a luthier's shop. The funniest moment of that stop to me was when we were waiting outside the building, and I was concerned for Aden's feet since they were starting to blister from all the walking. She said, "It's okay. We're visiting a luthier, and luthiers have good band aids." And they did! Because of course they did. Luthiers are kind of band aid connoisseurs. So my daughter has learned that much from watching me work. Band aids aside, they had a wonderful view of Manhattan from the roof.

We had a nice meal in Park Slope. (Which was funny, because it took us a while to settle on a restaurant, and Aden's only qualifier was "No soup," since it was so horribly hot. But then we found a sushi place, and her meal came with soup. So, soup.) And then a pretty walk back to the subway through Prospect Park, which is beautiful. And another confusing ride on the B Train, which apparently we are not good at. (But we still found our way home, so no harm done.)

Covid reminders on the subway

My last full day in New York, I treated my daughters to a mani-pedi experience (Mona went for a facial instead) at a nearby shop in the morning. It was new for them, and interesting for observing life in that neighborhood.

Then we went on separate adventures. The kids took themselves to the Morgan library, and I met up with an incredibly charming woman who does violin restoration work. She brought me tea and a box lunch to Central Park where the hours flew by as we talked about this, that, and everything. It was a real highlight of my trip.

 

 

 

 

 

We sat by the Conservatory pond, which became the meeting place once I stumbled upon a talented violinist playing there.

It felt good to have a day of my own, and to know my kids were feeling confident enough to not need me. (But I was still somewhere not far.) I think as a transition the whole thing worked out well, because dropping them there and leaving right away would have been a bit hard. But this way I got to do some wonderful things, and they got to adjust, and by the time I left we all knew they'd be fine. They got a total of about two and a half weeks in New York. They came home separately because they wanted different experiences traveling back. Mona flew to Chicago then took a bus up to Milwaukee, and Aden took the train all the way back.

So that was a memorable adventure that made up for a lot of missed experiences in 2020.

Mom's house!

On my way back, I got to stop in Detroit again. (The drive from New York to Detroit is LONG. I do not recommend anyone do it alone, unless you have some really good podcasts to listen to, and a playlist made by Aden when you need music.) I got to enjoy another dinner out with my friends, and I caught my mom up on things through our Disney + account, like Hamilton, WandaVision, and Falcon and Winter Soldier. (Although I think some of that we watched on my previous visit? I forget already. We watched too much stuff and it was fun.)

So, part of the excitement of going places applies to home, too. Everything has been closed or limited for so long, we are rediscovering things near us that we haven't seen in forever. While Aden and Mona were out of town, I took a few hours off of work to go with Quinn to the zoo. We haven't been in a very long time, and a bunch of it has changed, and the Mold-A-Rama machines were in new places. We picked up a few molds that we hadn't seen there before. Because of the pandemic, the hours are shorter, and a lot of the indoor spaces are off limits. But there is a beautiful new enclosure for the elephants, and you can still get ice cream, just from a window rather than inside.

Speaking of ice cream, its superior local variation "frozen custard" can still be found despite Covid. The lines at Leon's when I took Quinn were insane, though. They actually had security on hand to help direct people where to stand and park. I'm glad our custard stand seems to have successfully survived these odd times.

Another place we can go is the Bay View farmers market. It was open last summer, too, but they banned dogs (since dogs inspire people to congregate too close together), spread out the tents, and imposed a clockwise direction to the whole thing. Turns out people liked the new more spacious layout, so they kept that, but they brought back dogs, and you can now walk whatever way you like. I really like our farmers market in the park by the lake.

Another bit of short distance travel? Because anywhere outside of the house now feels like travel? The movies! We went to our first movie in I'm not sure how long. Appropriately it was "In the Heights." We walked over to the Avalon to see it, which is our local theater with stars on the ceiling. (There are shooting stars, too! If a movie gets boring, you can always look up and watch for those instead.)

Travel also now means people can come to us! The uncle and aunt we got to stay with on our way to New York, came to stay at our house for a night. It gave us an excuse to dig out from our pandemic mess.

Uncle John with the adorable Keiko bird!

Then just recently, we got to finally do a full family road trip again. It was a version of what we were hoping to do last summer before everything shut down.

We explored all our options, determined driving was cheaper than flying, and we rented a minivan to save ours the wear and tear (since the thing is older than Quinn and we need it to last another few years). First stop? Niagara Falls! I hadn't been there since I was a kid. The rest of the family had never been. I was sad not to be able to show it to them from the Canadian side (which I believe also has fewer wax museums), since the border is still closed, and we don't have passports for the kids yet anyway.

We checked into our Airbnb, then drove out to the falls at dusk. Lots of people there, and there were weird lights on the water, but it's all still pretty amazing. I like that you can walk to a railing right next to the water and watch it rushing right over the edge at your feet.

We went back the next morning, and the whole place was practically deserted. There was an occasional person, but for the most part we had the place to ourselves, which I think is really odd.

 

 

 

The other odd discovery as we were leaving Niagara Falls? "Fiddler Roofing" with its fiddle on the roof.

Niagara Falls is weird. The natural wonder of it is not diminished, but the surroundings are just wrong. My kids were surprised it wasn't a national park, which would likely have created something more dignified with the area. But it's an old state park, and it is what it is. I'm still glad we went.

On the drive toward Maine we made a stop at an old section of the Erie Canal. (I could not remember the whole song, but my kids did not seem impressed anyway. They are mystified by most of the songs I was taught in school. I don't blame them.)

Sal?

 

We passed from New York into Vermont....

And eventually into New Hampshire, where we stopped for dinner at a nice restaurant, and a visit to a cute candy store that sold everything by the pound.

And then late into the evening we finally arrived in Biddeford, Maine, where Ian's (half)sister and her husband live. They have a huge house where the kids got their own rooms (so a step up from home where the girls have to share), and Ian and I were very comfortable upstairs and slept well.

Maine is beautiful. Everyone knows that, but still. I can't believe how lucky we are to know people there willing to put us all up. We kept our goals modest in Maine, mostly to enjoy the chance to relax. I got to read! I never get to read. (The two books I finished on this trip were Klara and the Sun, and Kindred. Both excellent.) Mona got to draw. Aden got to play with more dogs (Iggy and Mo, who loved the attention), Quinn got to disappear in his room like he was home... 

Our first morning there we visited the ocean and looked for tide pools.

We hung out on the back porch and admired all the hard work that had been done to tame the yard. We watched the dogs being dogs and were happy.

We went out for the obligatory lobster dinner, which did not disappoint. Aden and Mona actually tried lobster tails for the first time on our earlier trip to Ohio! They were ready for the whole thing. (Apparently the place we were eating used to cater to the Bushes, and our hosts described how when they would eat in the area where we were, there was a curtain that was pulled to separate them and their secret service from the rest of the place.)

And we never get tired of the ocean. I know we have Lake Michigan at home (I never get tired of that, either), but it's so different to have tides and saltwater creatures. Every time we went it was different. The first time was glorious and sunny and rocky. The next time we were on a misty beach where everything felt mysterious and we found a million hermit crabs! (I asked Aden how she kept spotting so many, and she said, "You look for a shell that starts crawling away.")

Hermit crabs!

Distant Mona in the Mist

We also got to wind down that evening by watching the final episode of Loki on a big screen, which had inconveniently come out while we were on the road. (Great show, glad there will be a second season, frustrated that will be so far in the future.)

Our second day in Maine, I went to visit a luthier friend. A talented builder I know from my varnish workshops, he said I was only the second builder to visit his remote shop. It's in a beautiful area near a man-made lake. His home was on one side of the road, and his shop in a separate building on the other. I love seeing where people work, and his space was so peaceful and practical. He even showed me a postcard of their home from way back in time. (The house looks a bit different now with changes to the roof and the addition of a second floor bedroom, but how cool is that to live in a postcard worthy home from yesteryear?)

After my little excursion, the five of us headed up to Portland. (The "other" Portland for us.) All driving in Maine is a bit winding and confusing, but we got used to not traveling very fast there. My kids were sort of perplexed by Portland, until Ian and I pointed out that people in New York and Boston use Maine the way people in Chicago and Milwaukee use Door County. It's a pretty tourist vacation space on the water that seems quaint and has treats and that people avoid in the off season. We found a really nice comic and game store, and picked up a new game called Just One, which was really fun to play with a big group when we got back to the house.

We went out for lobster rolls at a place on the docks called Luke's. From the windows we could see a lighthouse that we decided to track down. It turned out to be a charming little structure called "Bug Light" and the park it was in turned out to be a place the locals go. I love when we have a plan when we travel, but I also love exploring random things. Those things are often the most memorable.

When we returned to Biddeford, we took another walk out on the beach, where this time there were no hermit crabs and less mist.

 

The next morning I read on the back porch (with it's pretty view of a creek running through the yard), and eventually did a drive up to another lake (with two of the kids in tow) where I met with another luthier. 

He was one who had offered to send me an odd aluminum bow tip, but when I found out he was in Maine, I told him I could probably come pick it up in person since I was headed that way this summer. Turned out he also cuts tone wood, and I was able to pick up some beautiful maple. (Um, not all of this maple. I got a great one piece back, and a couple of quarter sawn wedges. But cool pile, right?)

Our final morning in Maine, Aden and Quinn got to get up early with our hosts and watch the dogs romp on the beach, and then we packed up and started a leisurely trip south through Massachusetts. We did a stop for mini-golf and ice cream because I am a sucker for putt-putt, especially the type with the simple greens and a water feature. This was one of those moments, though, where a nice idea doesn't go the way you think it should when you have three teens on different wavelengths with different expectations. Only my husband was cheerful about it. I at least got a glimpse of how empty nest stuff won't be what I feared it might. It's been a long time since I got to travel with just Ian, and that will be fun again someday in the not-too-distant future. He's always up for mini-golf, and I love him.

None of my kids had ever been to Boston. It would have been nice to stay longer and really explore it, but for now I just wanted them to see it for themselves and get a sense of what it has to offer, since it has a different feel from other cities they know. I have cousins (on my dad's side) in the area, and even though I don't get to see them often enough, they are always incredibly generous and kind when we do. They hosted a lovely dinner for our arrival, and put us up in their son's condo for the night since he was out of town and there was a lot of room there. It was really nice to have a space like that to ourselves to unwind and spread out.

The next morning we hit the Freedom Trail. I'd walked it as a kid. Ian never had, but knew a lot of history he was able to share. There is much to be gleaned from the Freedom Trail. I seem to remember back in the days of the bicentennial that it was a red-white-and-blue painted line that my dad led us along as we trekked about Boston. Maybe it's changed, maybe I'm remembering it wrong, maybe we were following the wrong trail altogether back then. The trail we followed on this trip was mostly bricks. By Boston Common they were orderly and clear.

By landmarks like notable cemeteries there were medallions added to it.

And then as you continued along, it became fractured, neglected, betraying the realities of city streets and competing needs.

The line in places was solid, in others, broken. You could always find it if you looked, but the Freedom Trail was sometimes hard to recognize depending on what neighborhood you were in.

Quite the metaphor.

My favorite educational stop on the trail was built right into the sidewalk in front of a historic school building. I really liked the actual marbles embedded into the marbles game.

Lots of history that Ian was able to elaborate on as we passed different landmarks, including about the 54th infantry regiment made up of black soldiers, and the Old North Church where the signal was for Paul Revere.

That evening, after our long walk, we went back to my cousin's condo where he had returned home, and he taught my family how to play Wingspan while we ate pizza. (Although I missed the instruction part to observe a service that our hosts were leading at their synagogue. I'll have to let my kids lead me through Wingspan another day.)

After that night, we essentially started the long drive home. But since Quinn collects those state magnets you can buy at some truck stops, we decided to hit as many new states as we could! We had breakfast in Rhode Island, made a pit stop in Connecticut, and ate dinner in Delaware. (We touched 15 states on this trip! Far different from when we drive out West and a single state takes forever.

The restaurant experience in Wilmington was odd. (And for the first time in my life I sent back a meal, because Aden and I ordered crab cakes, and they were full of grit and small hard shell bits, so no thank you. Plus as the most expensive thing on the menu, I wasn't having it. It took some effort to get that taken off our bill, but we made sure to tip very well. Wasn't the waitress's fault.) But the restaurant was right on a really beautiful river walk, so that was pleasant.

 

 

 

Not spooky at all the next day.

We got to our Airbnb in Pennsylvania right when the last of the daylight was gone. There was some strange, spooky driving at dusk through Amish country, and my kids pointed out that it felt like we were in the opening scenes of a horror movie, where the family thinks things are going fine, but stuff starts to look strange. We even took a street called "Street Road" which just seemed weird.

But then we arrived at a strangely upscale feeling mini-neighborhood in the middle of nowhere, and spent a night in a lovely house with the world's friendliest cat.

Our old second floor apartment!

 

In the morning we drove through Carlisle, which is where Ian and I lived for a couple of years out of college. We wanted the kids to see it, but I'm sure it wasn't interesting to them. It was mostly nostalgia for me and Ian. I was fascinated by how much it had changed. It's gotten far more upscale, and had lots of interesting restaurants that certainly didn't exist in the mid-90s.

But PA definitely has it's own look and quirks, and that was something the kids picked up on, even if our pointing out the hotel where their dad used to work didn't really register.

From Carlisle we headed to Gettysburg. That's changed a lot since the last time we were there, too. Huge new visitor center (and prices too high for us to see anything in it.)

This is only one small corner.

 

 

After Gettysburg was a stop in Breezewood, which is full of truck stops and where I figured we might find some state magnets. Instead we found this, which has to have more Steelers stuff than anyplace in the world. (My kids were hearing it as "Stealers" and wondered why anyone would name a team after cheating.)

 

 

The plan was to then drive straight to Ohio, where we were going to spend the night with my aunt and uncle again so we wouldn't end up driving so far without a break. But then we unexpectedly came across the Flight 93 Memorial in Shanksville. We decided to stop, and I'm glad we did. I'd never seen anything about the 9-11 memorial there, and it was moving.

It's spread out over a large swath of land. There is a striking (and sizable) visitor center that we didn't go to, because it's one of three areas you can visit that are a great distance apart, and we didn't feel we had the time to do all of them. We did do the walk along the debris field, where the impact site is marked with a boulder.
 

This picture on the left is from about halfway down the walkway to the memorial site, looking back toward the information area.

Toward the front of the park is the Tower of Voices. It's a tall structure with 40 wind chimes inside--one for each of the passengers and crew that died that day. The space is peaceful. The surrounding land is beautiful.

So memorials were in my head all day, and on top of all of that, while I was driving I was listening to a podcast that included how much thought went into the details of the 9-11 memorial in NYC. (Including artificial dirt for the trees that is a third of the weight of normal dirt since it's all above a transit area, and temperature controlled name plaques so the metal doesn't get too hot or too cold to touch.)

Comparing Gettysburg to the Flight 93 memorial was fascinating. Gettysburg is overwhelming in a lot of ways. There are stones and statues everywhere to mark certain groups from various states. The only individuals whose names you see are all famous officers. Ian tried to describe how certain areas we were walking through were then filled with thousands of soldiers marching shoulder to shoulder as far as you could see. It's hard to fathom, and it's distant. Flight 93 has pictures and names of all the people who died. It's almost too easy to grasp, and it hits hard. Both spaces are vast and somber while also embracing natural beauty. The Tower of Voices is ethereal in a way that would seem out of place at a site like Gettysburg. But between Gettysburg the battlefield and Gettysburg the still-operating town catering to tourists, it's a strange amalgamation of things stately and sacred, and a roadside attraction. There is death at the center of both places, with terror replaced by peace. It's a lot to take in.

 

Our stop in Ohio was brief, but a welcome respite. I was glad Ian and Quinn got to see their new house since they weren't with us on the earlier trip. It was good to spend a night someplace that also feels like home. And in that home are three cats, two of which spent a lot of time hanging out on chairs under the dining table, which was really sweet and funny. (Becuase they were up! But under! In the action! But hidden from it! Silly cats.)

It's good to be home.

The next trip I get to take is with Aden to her college orientation. It will be the first time we actually get to step foot on the campus! Last year all the college tours were shut down due to Covid, so we're just assuming her new school is as nice as everyone says it is. That will be a good mini trip.

Our big project this weekend is to finally fill out passport applications. We've missed travel and want to do more, and passports will open the door to more possibilities. It's fun to think about!

If you stuck this post out until the end, you are amazing. (Or you're my mom. Hi Mom!) Thanks! And happy travels to you, wherever you go.

Dear Dad, 2021

Hi Dad. I miss you.

It's been almost six years. I know because your youngest grandchild is six. I haven't seen him in over a year because of the pandemic, but in pictures he's looking so big compared to that tiny baby you got to hold before you died.

Six years is a long time, but on the upside, I can now talk about you at some length without bursting into tears. I'm able to share stories about you with my kids that make them laugh or smile without it also bringing me down. That doesn't mean your absence isn't still difficult, but grief is strange like that. I've adapted to it. Although that sometimes means it hits me in a wave at an unexpected time.

This year is looking up compared to last year at this time. I'm actually surprised by how quickly we're able to go back to normal in a lot of ways, considering how practiced we got at our socially distanced protocols. Things are opening up instead of closing down. It's amazing what it does for your attitude to know you could go out and do something, even if you stay home anyway.

But this Father's Day we did go do something! Mom is here (after a visit to LaCrosse) and we got tickets for all of us to the Milwaukee Public Museum. We have a membership, but you need timed tickets as part of their Covid protocols. Plus we all wore masks, which is no big deal at this point. We mostly wanted to see all of our old favorite displays before the museum moves in a few years. Things like the giant T-Rex eating a Triceratops in that spooky storm setting probably won't survive because they are out of date with current science, but it's fun to visit while we can and remember how nervous it used to make Aden when she was little. We even had the fun on this trip of introducing a family to the hidden snake button. (No kid should go to the Public Museum without getting to push the snake button.)

Last year when I wrote you, Aden was getting ready for her first year of college. That's where we still are, because she wound up deferring both semesters. Covid not only made us nervous, but it made the college experience look really rather abysmal. But our whole family is now fully vaccinated (YAY!) and things are looking up for fall. I think things will be normal enough at Stout again that it will be worth going. The silver lining in the deferrals is that not only did I get an extra year with Aden at home (which I've really appreciated), but she kind of has the fear of leaving home out of her system now. She's had a LOT of home lately, and is ready to move on. It's nice to see her excited rather than nervous. I think she's going to enjoy college.

Mona finished her virtual Junior year fifth in her class. Virtual school has been a mess for many, but a boon for Mona. She's on track to graduate early, and I'm trying to convince her to go back to in person learning for her last semester. I think she needs friends and socializing and time out of the house, but she wants us to sign her up for the continued virtual option. We'll see. Mona remains complicated in many ways, and it's hard to know sometimes if we actually know what's best for her. Currently she's excited about applying to art schools, both near and far, and she's been using the studio at the violin store to work on pieces for her portfolio. I wish you could see it.

Quinn graduated from Fernwood and will be moving on to Rufus King High School in the fall. He may have to take a city bus there, so that's something we still have to figure out. After a year of virtual schooling, he's ready to be in person. He did get to do the last month or so of eighth grade in person, but it was still odd with masks, and partitions at lunch, etc. The graduation was weird. It was held in the Bay View High auditorium so we could all spread out. The one part of the ceremony I was really looking forward to was the slideshow of the photos. Each kid was supposed to submit a baby picture, a slightly older picture, and a current picture, and they would show them on a big screen to music. It's fun to see how each kid has grown. And I submitted photos for Quinn twice! Both times under the wire--first time by email, second time by text as requested. So I was, um... disappointed when on the screen under his name they had to use a stick figure as a stand in because the pictures somehow didn't go through. Oh well. (It's kind of funny, and I have it on video.) 

Anyway, Quinn is now the tallest person in the house, and definitely has the longest hair. He's still smart and funny and sweet. He'd give you a good run for your money at Scrabble. (Remember when he tried playing with us when he was really really little, and he put down "Japon" and we had to explain that "Japan" wasn't spelled that way, but more importantly you couldn't use proper nouns? He was so embarrassed. We should have just let him play whatever he wanted, but he would have been upset with us later for not making him stick to the rules. He still likes rules.)

Ian likes not being in the Army anymore. I definitely like him not being in the Army anymore. He's doing a great job running the building and keeping the finances in order at the shop. I married a good man, Dad. I remember how you had your doubts twenty-something years ago when I told you we were getting married. That upset me until I talked to Grandma about it, and she just smiled and said, "Do you think there is any man you could pick that your father will believe is good enough for you?" I know you came around eventually, but I thought you'd like to know it's still good, and we're happy we're together.

Business is busy. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed lately because there is so much to do, and I'm about to lose my assistant. She only came up about twice a month to work, and I know that's not enough to count as really putting a dent in my workload, but it was nice to occasionally not have to do everything. It's hard doing everything. But I am grateful to have a job that survived the pandemic. I just keep hoping at some point I'll catch up on all the work at the store, and have more time for the projects I need to finish on my bench at home. I put in long hours, but never seem to get there.

But there's lots to pay for coming up, so I should just be grateful for the work. Besides college to fund starting this year, our deck out back is falling apart, and we have to replace it this fall. Remember how weird that deck is? At first glance people always think it's great, but it's ridiculous. Too many levels accomplishing too little. And it's just rotting all over and is officially a hazard. The new design should be scaled down, but with more space that's actually usable. We'll see. We really didn't want one more big project right now, but we don't really have a choice. (Short of not stepping outside the back door anymore to be safe.)

Chipper died back in March. That was hard. He was such a weird little thing. I know it made you sad that you couldn't pet him. I wish there had been a way to explain to his little doggie brain that he didn't need to fear all men. Anyway, I think of him most when I'm in the kitchen. I was used to him planted at my feet with that hopeful look on his face as I chopped things. I miss him being underfoot, and I miss his wanting me to scoop him onto the bed in the mornings. Did you have moments when you missed Anna? She was a weird dog, too, and I know you and mom were relieved not to have to factor her into your schedules anymore once she died, but wasn't it kind of nice having a dog? Someday we'll get another one, but not soon. That freedom from one more responsibility is definitely nice, but I miss having something to pet when I sit on the couch.

Writing is sort of stalled. I need to get the last project wrapped up before I can put my brain into the space of the next one, and I'm sort of stuck as I send out queries and wait to hear back from people. I hate waiting for other people to do things when I want to move forward. But I do still need to do a full couple of rounds of editing, so I have to make time for that. I wish you could read the new novel! I miss your proofreading skills, although Barrett (and occasionally Arno) has been wonderful for that.

You know what you would have loved? Visiting college campuses with Ellora. Arno described to me their process of visiting potential schools, which in pandemic times means no tours, just wandering outside of buildings and getting the general vibe of an area. They visited Yale and Amherst and Harvard, etc. It sounded like a lot of fun, and right up your alley. We still haven't seen Aden's college! I'm taking Aden up in August for her orientation, so we'll see it then. It has me thinking back to when you and I visited Oberlin. Remember how the dorm I was supposed to stay it looked too freaky, so I ended up in your hotel room instead? I liked that trip. I feel like we didn't have enough trips together like that, but I don't know when we would have had the chance.

What else would you want to know about this past year. . . Politics improved a bit. Trump is out and Biden is in, and I don't miss the daily weight of panic that the news used to bring. The Middle East is still on the brink of mayhem, racism is still a dire issue, environmental reports and mass shootings usually make me want to cry, but at least there are grownups in charge again, so I don't feel desperate about breaking news every hour. You would find so much to clip in the papers, some of it better.

My orchestra gets to play in the new fancy hall this coming season! I wish you could come! I'm still glad you got to hear me play in that Russian concert back in the Pabst several years ago. That was a good concert. I'm lucky to get to play with such talented people. I discovered during the pandemic that if I don't have something specific to prepare for, I don't take my instrument out of the case. So I guess my idea that my viola should be on my "if stuck alone on a desert island" list isn't a good one. 

Aden and Mona got to take a trip to New York to spend a couple of weeks with Arno! I drove them out there and stayed a few days to help get them acclimated, but then they were on their own to learn to navigate the subway system, etc. It was a good growing experience for both of them. They learned things about themselves and each other that were surprising. Mona even called me one night to say that she hadn't realized how much I usually facilitated certain conversations, and that she was having trouble finding things to talk about with her sister. Without someone there to dictate the plans, etc., they had to negotiate between themselves, and they have very different ways of moving in the world that don't always mesh. I know it upset them both not to be in sync, but it's part of learning to be with others. I think it was good for them, even when it was hard.

My kids are getting so grown up, Dad. I mean, Aden's going to be 20 this year. 20! It's simultaneously really young and really old. I don't know how to process it some days. How did you deal with it when I moved away? I remember my friend Alit saying at lunch at your house after she had her first baby how she was having nightmares about something happening to her child out in the world, and she wondered when that goes away. You said it didn't.

What were your worries? Were there any moments where you felt more reassured that I was doing all right? Knowing my girls made it to and from Central Park on their own made me happy. Aden's actually been using the bus since she returned to Milwaukee, because now that doesn't seem daunting compared to NYC. I hope the world is kind to them so I don't have to worry too much.

Sheesh, I feel there is a lot more I should be telling you, but my mind is sort of blank. The pandemic stuff made everything blurry and flat. It's hard looking back on the past year and to put anything in any order, or see anything as significant. Maybe next year's update will be more exciting! I would say for this year, things are okay. Life is never easy, but I have what I need. You don't need to worry. I hope part of this reality is that your nightmares are over.

I love you.

Happy Father's Day.

Kory

 

Catching up and making plans (and random thoughts I want to get out)

You know what's exciting about 2021 so far? PLANS! There are plans again.

I used to feel somewhat constrained by endless plans, but now I understand they are necessary anchors on the calendar and in our memories. It's hard to recall anything in any order in 2020 because after things shut down in March, everything was the same, and there was nothing to look forward to. My daughter and I were trying to remember anything about last summer, and the best we could come up with was it got warmer for a while, and then it wasn't. We had to go out of our way to make Easter look different from the days around it. I don't know if we even noticed 4th of July. No Halloween. (No costumes.) I think we did Thanksgiving twice for some reason. I made a special effort on each of the kids' birthdays, but that took all of my creative energy. I was fortunate to have taken a couple of trips to the cottage (which was a safe and isolated place to go), but there were no family trips. The year was mostly a sad blur.

But what a difference vaccinations make.

There are things happening! With the promise of more things happening to come! I just returned from a road trip where I got to visit and hug vaccinated family and friends in several states, and it was wonderful.

I drove both my daughters to NYC where they are staying with my brother and his family for a while. (That will be a whole other post soon, once I download photos.) The three of us got to stay with my aunt and uncle in Ohio in their beautiful new home, I hugged cousins, we ate together and laughed and it all felt like normal again. I hung out in NYC long enough to help get my girls acclimated to life in the city, and then I drove home via Michigan so I could spend a little time with my mom, and have dinner with my (all fully vaccinated) friends. It feels a bit miraculous.

It's like we're living a fourth act of "Our Town," where after discovering that it is the mundane that is extraordinary, and the most basic connections between people that matter most, we don't have to stay dead, but can instead return to life again with renewed appreciation. I wonder how long after masks and social distancing are a distant memory we will retain that.

School updates:

Quinn went back to in-person school a couple of weeks ago. Kids still had the option of staying virtual, and at first Quinn thought he'd stick with that for safety reasons, but he's graduating from 8th grade. He's been at Fernwood Montessori for a decade, and in the fall he heads off to high school, and he wanted the chance to walk around his school again, and see his friends and teachers. We decided a good compromise was to not have him take the bus. (It turns out he preferred having us drive him anyway, he just didn't want to inconvenience us.) He's in school four days a week (Wednesdays are still virtual), we drive him there, he walks himself home, and it's going well. Everyone wears masks, the kids eat at their desks (with dividers between them at that time since their masks are off), the number of kids per room is limited so they have a system that rotates different kids out into the hall on different days, and they do Covid testing on groups periodically. He's glad to be back. He says he pushes himself to do more when he's physically in school. I'm happy he gets to have a more conclusive end to his time at Fernwood. (Unlike Aden who is still somewhat traumatized by having her senior year of high school simply end unceremoniously.)

Mona is finished with her junior year, having done all of it virtually. In fact, she took the few finals she didn't exempt on her laptop in NYC. Virtual school worked out fine for her in many ways. She's been able to manage her pain issues better from home, so her work didn't suffer. Her grades are fine. She's even on track to graduate early since she took classes ahead each summer. It was certainly not ideal, but I would say Mona is among those for whom online school during the pandemic worked out okay.

Aden wound up deferring both semesters of her first year at UW Stout, but is on track to start for real, in person, in a dorm, this fall. (Finally.) I won't lie and say it hasn't been nice having her around an extra year, but I think we're both ready for her to head off to college in a few months. Last year at this time she was anxious about leaving home. But now she's had a whole lot more of home than anyone bargained for, and after a truly boring gap year, she's excited for the next step. Her lineup of art classes sound wonderful, and I think she'll have a great freshman year. I'm glad she opted out of a first year of college that would have been all quarantine and virtual classes. 

Vaccines: Ian, Aden and I, all got Moderna shots. Ian and Aden felt a bit icky for a day after the second shot, but I had no reaction at all. Mona got Pfizer shots, also with no reaction. Quinn got his first Pfizer shot the day it was approved for teens, and still has his second shot coming up. Nurses at the vaccination centers remarked on how fun it was to give shots to people who were actually excited about it.

Work: We are starting to plan ahead for opening up the violin store to people again. We've been lucky to still have steady work all through the pandemic, but it's been different. The teaching studio closed last March, but will finally have students in it again starting in a couple of weeks. Sales were down for a while, but are back to normal. Repairs never stopped. Rentals stayed the same. I've discovered it's much easier to organize my time with appointments rather than open hours, so I think we'll keep that. Starting in the fall we'll have open hours two days a week, but otherwise be by appointment. I need more time in my shop at home. I need longer stretches to get work done without interruption. In the meantime, we are cleaning and organizing, and getting ready to let people step inside our door. That will feel weird after so much quiet.

Rehearsals and Performances: I was lucky to have been able to play a few orchestra concerts this past season. I'm glad we had a virtual option for the audience, and hope we keep that going forward. (I loved that my out of town family members could watch us play.) I'm excited about the upcoming season. I've also missed playing with the mandolin orchestra, and look forward to making music with that group again. I've gotten used to playing in a mask. I've gotten used to not having a stand partner or sharing music.

Latin: Who knows? Latin lessons with Quinn was one of the early casualties of the pandemic for us. He'd like to go back, but he feels (okay, WE feel) that we've forgotten so much by now, that starting up again could be painful. I told him we'd wait until he gets into a rhythm of things in high school and then see how much extra time he actually has.

Star Trek: At the beginning of the lock down, we (like many) were looking for things to watch, and Aden agreed to binge a Star Trek series with me. I decided if we were only going to watch one, then Deep Space Nine was a good choice, since it has a story line that wraps up cleanly, and I knew she'd like the characters.

We got through it faster than expected, so then moved on (back) to Next Generation. But I started toward the end of season two, because as much nostalgia as many of us have for Picard and his crew, lots of TNG does not hold up well. Some of the early episodes are downright unwatchable. Most episodes don't even pass a basic Bechdel Test. (For those of you unaware, the Bechdel Test wants you to ask: 1. Is there more than one woman in the story? 2. Do the women talk to each other? 3. If they talk to each other, is it about something other than a man? It is deeply sad how few things pass this meager test.)

Anyway, now we are on Voyager, and I am surprised at how much better it is than I remembered. I think I was influenced by a bunch of the whining from fans around it when it came out that was probably rooted in misogynistic nonsense. The show is great. It's funny, it can get quite dark, the characters are interesting and likable, and it's often challenging. Nearly all the time in TNG, and a lot of the time in DS9, Aden would guess the outcome of an episode in the first few minutes. Voyager? She seldom knows what's coming, and that's rare and delightful. Nearly every episode easily passes the Bechdel Test, and the captain is still distinctly in command while managing to be personable in a way none of the other captains ever were. And the overall feel is far more "Trek" than almost anything, since there is no Federation red tape or politics. They are actually trekking across the galaxy and exploring all new things.

But the most startling Voyager moment for us recently was the episode in the Void, where the ship is essentially set to stay on autopilot for years, there are no stars outside the windows, and there is nothing to do. They are just making their way across the Void and biding their time, which has the captain depressed, people eating at odd times, and everyone feeling like they should be enjoying the "vacation" but instead it has everyone on edge and feeling off. Aden looked at me and said, "Oh, this is the pandemic." And she was right. That episode was far more relatable now than the first time I saw it.

In any case, for me a minor joy of pandemic life, has been curling up with my oldest child almost every night (often with a bowl of popcorn between us) and watching Star Trek. That part I will always look back on fondly.

The binge show of choice for me and Quinn has been The Amazing Race. We started back on season one (about twenty years old at this point) and are somewhere in season fifteen now. Quinn has excellent knowledge of geography, so for him I think it's mostly interesting to see so many places around the world, but the game itself is entertaining. I'm flattered that my kids think Ian and I would do well on the race if we were in it. (I think we do have good complementary skill sets, but I don't run, and there is a lot of running on that show.) We've even adopted a new family phrase based on a moment in season one: There was a mother daughter team--Emily and her mom--and the mom was really steady and nice. Early on, all the teams are challenged to zip line across a really deep drop somewhere in South America, and one of the strong young men gets really scared, but the mother daughter team did it just fine. This causes the girlfriend of the nervous man to complain, "Emily's MOM did it!" So now that's what we say when any of us hesitates about doing something we're nervous about.

My house is the messiest it's ever been. Three teenagers locked in a house for a year is a bad idea in terms of housekeeping. At some point I'll have to do something about it, but not yet.

I finished my fourth novel over a year ago, but have been mired in the complications of querying agents. One asked to see the manuscript back in September, but I still haven't heard back. Other writers I know say that's not that unusual, especially during the pandemic. I may self-publish again out of sheer impatience soon. But it's a fun book that should appeal to a large audience, so for now I will keep trying. (I'm looking forward to sharing it! You'll like it.)

We still miss our dog. My brother on the other side of Wisconsin recently lost his dog, too. It's been a bad year for pets.

Although our bird remains wildly entertaining. Keiko only hears us talk about Keiko, so the only thing he tells us is, "Adorable Keiko bird, such a cute bird" etc. I had no idea a pet bird could be so interesting and funny.

Aden got to do a trip to the cottage with a friend earlier this month where I left them on their own for about a week. That felt sort of wild to have a kid be that grown up. Along the same lines, Mona wants to get better at driving, and she did a big chunk of driving across both Indiana and Pennsylvania on our recent trip. It is surreal to have your child in the driver's seat.

We're planning a trip up the East Coast this summer. That was supposed to happen in 2020, but you know... 2020. I'm looking forward to it.

Our family finally watched Hamilton not long ago. I was surprised and pleased to discover it deserved all the hype and acclaim it's gotten. It's a truly remarkable achievement. I found out as I was leaving NY that Lin-Manuel Miranda lives in my brother's building in Washington Heights, so I didn't get a chance to tell him so directly. Next time! (My kids are still in NY, so I told them to tell Mr Miranda I said "Hi" if they bump into him.)

I finally figured out the way for me to use my phone is to put it in a wallet, so I keep track of where it is. I'm also learning that texting is useful when your kids aren't living with you. Still not crazy about having a phone, though.

I think that's enough updating for the night. If you came this far, thanks for joining me on a rambling exercise in marking this place in time! It never looks worthwhile until years go by and I forget everything. (That's the true value of a blog.)

Let me tell you about my dog

Ten years ago we got a dog. Our neighbor, Julie, knew we were ready to adopt if we found the right one, and she sent us this picture of a cute little poodle-mix at the pound.

Who would not fall in love with this picture of the dog? I'm still mostly impressed that someone at the pound was able to capture such an image, since (as you will soon see) he was hard to photograph well. He mostly came out as a peculiar black blur, sometimes with demon eyes.

He was adorable, he didn't make my husband sneeze, and even though the poor thing was skittish and had fleas when we met him, we wanted to bring him home. The pound had dubbed him "Vinnie," but we decided to call him "Chipper," partially in homage to a dog my mom and uncles had growing up.

Chipper turned out to be the weirdest dog I've ever met. He remained peculiar to the end, which was on March 8th. Our household is adjusting to being a house without a dog. (Thankfully, we still have Mona's noisy bird, Keiko, to remind us loudly we still are a house with a pet.)

So, I want to take a little time to tell you about my dog. Mostly because there is much I don't want to forget, and if scrolling back through the decades of my blog has taught me anything, it's that it's easy to forget so very much. And I don't want to forget my dog.

Looking good after a grooming

Chipper was nervous. It was easy to interpret his behavior as bad much of the time, but once you realized it was all based in fear, he was easier to sympathize with. So many times I wished we could simply make him understand that no one wanted to hurt him. Everyone just wanted to love him and pet him and give him treats, but he found the world a scary place. The sound of a garbage truck would frighten him. All strangers were bad. And don't even get me started about fireworks. (One fourth of July, Chipper was in such a panic about fireworks that he somehow squeezed himself under a nightstand that I swear only had about two inches of clearance underneath.)

Chipper did not like men. Chipper did not like most people, period, but we suspect whatever his life was before he ended up at the pound, it probably involved an abusive man and the dog never got over it. Ian was the one exception. The dog always respected Ian. That was the man who rescued him from the pound. Ian was the only person in our house never to be bitten by the dog. Ian was the one who brought him home. Ian was the one Chipper was lying next to when he took his last breath, which I hope means in that last moment he felt safe.

Chipper did like Julie. Our next door neighbor Julie is hands down one of the nicest people in the world, and she was the only person we could really trust him with if we had to leave town. (Chipper did spend some time at a local kennel in their "Stay and Play" program as a "Solo Guest" since he didn't like other dogs, and the one trainer there who said she really liked our dog also happened to be named "Julie." So maybe he just liked people named "Julie.")

Chipper was always happy to run up to Julie's door, and she was the only person he didn't try to defend us from if she came to our house. Julie was his friend, always accepting him as he was and somehow he knew and appreciated that.

As it became apparent that time with Chipper was growing short in the last week of his life, I took him over to Julie's for one last visit. She told him he was a good dog. And for her he always was.

But if Chipper was anyone's dog, he was Aden's. Aden's first word was "doggie," and when we finally got a dog of our own she was nine, and definitely ready for one. (Not that the promises by children to walk the dog and do any of the work of owning a dog actually come to fruition once the novelty wears off the first week, but still. Nine is a good age to get a dog.) Aden loved the way Chipper's face fit against her own like a puzzle piece. He loved curling up with her on the couch. (Any couch. When we'd go to the cottage, Aden and Chipper would set up on the couch there as naturally as they did on the one at home.) Aden loved Chipper, and Chipper loved Aden. (But Chipper did not love whoever was looking at Aden to take a picture.)

Chipper did not like feet if they were moving. Moving feet were very concerning to the dog. No dancing. No jumping. Definitely no shuffling--that was the worst for some reason.

Chipper didn't like his food particularly, but it was high quality food that kept him very healthy. He would hold out for better things all day long, then we'd hear him eating out of his bowl late at night when he'd finish it all.

Chipper did like to play fetch with certain toys. He had a favorite bit of rope he wanted us to throw often. There was a long squeaky pig that he adored to the point of utter destruction, and we were never able to find another. He also tore all the stuffing out of a Pichu, a monkey ball, and a Chuck E Cheese doll that he also tore the head off of. (We called that one his "ugly mouse" and he was fine with chasing either the head or body alone.) Fetch was funny because he often brought the toy only about halfway back. You were expected to somehow throw the toy, but not reach the toy. Fetch usually ended when Chipper would take the toy under the couch so no one could have it. Sometimes it would end more unceremoniously, where he would simply stop chasing the toy and wait for someone to offer him water.

Chipper with his first Christmas present, his favorite rope

It always made me laugh when Chipper would come bark at me if I was unlocking the front door, then he'd disappear briefly, and return with a toy to drop at my feet once I came inside. (He'd usually then take the toy when I'd reach for it to throw.)

He was odd at the front door. He once barked at my parents while they were letting themselves in our house, and once they made it inside, he fled upstairs and hid. He also had a phase where he'd bark at you while you were leaving. When I'd shut the door behind me from the outside, he'd come charge the door and bark. Then I'd come back in and he'd stop and act like things were great. Then be all tough again if I went out. I miss having him meet me at the door, though.

There were a few times we had to leave Chipper in a kennel when we traveled. The only good part about that was how happy he was when we'd eventually pick him back up.

Chipper could not abide coughing. That was the one way to get him to stop barking at you, or to make him leave the room. If you coughed, he looked appalled and was out of there. He could be all settled in happily in the dog bed in our bedroom, and if I coughed, he would sadly drag himself out of the bed and down the hall. If we were all sick and coughing, he'd change rooms frequently.

We were never sure if Chipper liked the sound of violin playing or not. Violin playing elicited lots of barking and howling, but it was hard to know if it was in protest or accompaniment. We think he was "singing," because the crazy barking at your feet if you were playing turned into wistful little baying sounds if you held him in your lap. Sometimes Chipper would bark at Quinn's keyboard playing, which could be a problem during pandemic Zoom lessons and recitals.

Chipper liked chicken. That's not unusual by any means, but if I was working with chicken in the kitchen he was impressively attentive and underfoot. During the last few weeks of his life he still wanted to be at my heels while I was cooking chicken, even though he'd stopped eating. We offered him chicken many times in an attempt to get him to eat again, but he didn't want any. He just wanted to be in the way while I prepared it.

Those last few weeks we couldn't get him to eat any of his favorite things, which included broccoli and pumpkin. He used to hang out under the kitchen table whenever we did pumpkin carving for Halloween in hopes of snagging a scrap. One year I carefully carved lots of pointy teeth Quinn had drawn onto his pumpkin, only to discover the next morning that Chipper had gotten onto the dining room table in the night and gnawed that mouth into a big, open, toothless grin.

Chipper didn't like the idea of going for walks, even though he liked walks. For the past several years we just left a leash on him at all times so he couldn't hide under the couch when we announced it was time to go out. At least with the leash on him we could drag him out and make him go. He worked really hard at avoiding walks, which was weird, since once outside, he enjoyed walks very much.

Chipper took a different route for his walk with each person in the house. He used to lead Aden down an alley that I never went down with him. With Quinn he only wanted to go around one small block. With me he liked to venture a few blocks away. The funniest route was the next block up near the community garden where there is a house with a fenced back yard containing "the monster." The monster is a 120 lb German shepherd with a deep and scary bark, and we only ever really see its nose and paws under the gap in the gate. Chipper spent weeks building up the nerve to go near the gate. At first he would skitter by the house with the monster, and then pee on something nearby when he'd reached safety. But little by little, Chipper figured out the monster couldn't get to him, and eventually he would run up to the gate and bark furiously at the giant paws poking out of that gap, before triumphantly peeing on something close to that fence. It was such a proud/cowardly thing to do that it always made us laugh.

Chipper didn't like other dogs. He had no doggie friends, and on the few occasions he was around other dogs, they tended to boss him around. The saddest instance was once when I went to pick him up at the groomer, I peered over the gate into the room he was in, and his access to me was blocked by a noisier, tinier dog. A little white fluffy thing in a bow decided it wanted my attention, and snapped at Chipper once before getting between him and me. Chipper looked so stricken! Like he was genuinely worried I was going to leave him there and take this other dog home instead.

Chipper was FAST. The fastest dog I've ever seen. He was not a trustworthy dog, so we couldn't take him off leash very often, but when we could. . .Wow. The best place was the horse trail by our cottage in Michigan. There's usually nobody else out there when we walk it, so we would let Chipper off the leash and watch him go full out along that trail. It didn't look like his feet ever touched the ground--he was like a fuzzy black bullet. But Chipper had no interest in running away from us. If he got out of sight, he'd check back to make sure we were still coming. He mostly just wanted to be home. Sometimes on that trail in Michigan he would decide to race all the way back to the cottage ahead of us.

He also ran what we called "Chipper Circles" in the house when he was excited or empty. (He always had the most energy when just coming in from a walk.) Sometimes we could "wind up the dog" by kind of pushing him back and forth between our hands quickly, and he would race around like crazy after that.

He was patient about the kids doing all manner of odd things with him, including dressing him in little sweaters, a pumpkin costume, or carrying him around in a pouch.

 

In his declining years it was funny because he would run around fast, and still seem like a puppy, but then suddenly turn into an old dog, where he'd just stop and make hacking sounds. Then he'd go back into puppy mode.

Chipper was the most rag-doll sort of dog I've ever seen.

He had a way of simply lying in whatever position he flopped into (legs dangling in odd directions, spine draped some funny way), and when you scooped him up he was all kind of soft and limp most of the time, more like the bendy way cats tend to be. (My kids are always shocked when they try to scoop up other dogs at how stiff legged and unyielding they often are.) But the wacky part of Chipper lying around in super relaxed positions, is that he could do it while being utterly tense and ready to spring. So he might look liked he melted onto Aden's lap, but his eyes would follow you in a way that let you know he was ready to attack.

This is why it was important to remember all the "Chipper Rules." The dog had a million strange rules that we simply took for granted in our house. We didn't realize how absurd all of it was until there were guests, and then had to articulate the rules aloud, which just made us look insane.

For instance, Chipper felt it was his job to guard Aden. From me, from anyone. So if Chipper was on the couch with Aden, you weren't supposed to look at her or talk to her. You could cross the room just fine, or come in the room, but there were certain places you couldn't pause there, because then the dog would come after you. (Or mostly just growl or bark.) If you wanted to talk to Aden, she either had to cover his eyes, or push him to the floor. You could sit next to Aden on the couch, but only if he didn't see you get there. You could tease the dog by saying forbidden things like, "I might touch Aden," and he would freak out.

He would sometimes bark at Aden if she were coming into my room, but his allegiance would shift over to her halfway down the hall toward her room.

He didn't like to be disrupted if he were in a cozy spot. So we all knew not to approach him when he was curled up in his dog bed, etc. The problem was he really liked to sleep in laundry baskets, so sometimes in the morning I would hear a commotion from the girls' room when he was sleeping on clothes they wanted to get to. 

There was a week at one point when Ian took all the kids to the cottage and I was home alone with the dog. That week the dog loved me and didn't want to leave my side and was actually very sweet company. But it was obvious he missed the kids and desperately wanted to find them. He once led me out the back door, and to the garage, and into the car, where he refused to get out. So I drove him around for a while, and then upon returning he raced into the house as if he expected everyone to be back. He was so droopy and disappointed when that didn't work. And once during that week I REALLY needed him to come out from under my bed so I could walk him, and the only trick I could think of was to pretend I was talking to Aden in her room. Chipper came rushing in, all hopeful, and I scooped him up to take outside. (That trick only worked once.) The dog also spent time that week barking downstairs at two in the morning and running away from me when I would come investigate. That was fun.

Chipper was hilarious to watch when he chased flies.

Chipper never seemed to have any reaction to when we got a bird a couple of years ago, although on a couple of occasions he sort of went after me when I approached the cage, as if he were protecting the bird, which was odd.

Chipper had this horrible habit of attacking people on the couch in the family room where we watch movies. He always wanted up on the couch with everyone during movie night. He would look up at me literally with puppy-dog eyes and wag his fluffy tail hopefully until I would scoop him up. Then at some point we'd have to shove him off for growling or trying to bite someone (usually me). The stupid part was he would sometimes do that instantly! He would appeal to me to come up, I'd scoop him, and as soon as he was on the couch he'd turn on me, then immediately beg to me all sweetly again the second I tossed him to the ground. You think we'd learn, but no. When he was good on the couch he was so sweet and warm that it often seemed worth the gamble.

Just a yawn. He's not actually trying to bite my daughter.

Back when my dad was alive and would stay with us, the dog would get very upset about the cane or the walker. My dad moved in too shuffly a manner for the dog, so Chipper would get upset, and my poor dad only ever wanted to pet the cute dog. Then one day my dad had a bit of a fall in our downstairs bathroom. It was alarming, and we wanted Dad to just stay still until we were sure he hadn't suffered any kind of injury. While on the floor and in need, Chipper suddenly wanted to be nice to my dad. For that little bit of time where my dad was on the floor and possibly hurt, Chipper was the sweetest dog, and my dad was so delighted to finally be able to pet him. (As soon as my dad was upright, Chipper went back to growling at the cane.)

Chipper was like that in general when someone was in need. I can think of a few occasions where I fell on the ice during a walk, and Chipper would come sit with me, and look into my face with what looked like concern. He would watch over any of us if we were sick. (Unless that person coughed, then we were on our own.)

Chipper liked to lie on things we were using. If we were trying to flip a futon, he would come lie on it. He would lie on fabric we were trying to cut on the floor. When we were doing family yoga for a while, he would hang out on the mats.

Chipper attracted burs. I don't know how he did it, but he could literally take a dozen steps out of the cottage and suddenly be covered in burs. He would sometimes get them caught deep in his paws, and he'd stop and roll onto his back, paws in the air to get help.

 

And for as fussy and fighty as that dog could be, he was weirdly patient about letting us help him with anything painful. He'd let you do whatever was necessary to get rid of burs or ticks (he once had an engorged tick on his eyelid) and not flinch while you did it. He once got his lip caught on a fish hook and was good about sitting still while we got it out.

When it was too cold and the sidewalks were too salty, he would sometimes stop in the middle of a walk, roll over, and put his paws in the air until we picked him up to finish the walk.

Chipper was a terrible shop dog. He barked at violin playing, and he didn't like strangers, so that pretty much ruled out everything that happened in that space. He was cute there, though.

Chipper on my cello cradle

 

Chipper liked going after the raccoons and opossums and skunks in our back yard. Thankfully he never caught one or got sprayed. But he did sometimes run around my shop at the back of the house because animals would get under it, and he could hear them through the floorboards.

Chipper sometimes forgot how to do stairs. There would be months at a time where he would wait at the top or the bottom to be carried. The strangest, though, was when he could only do the long set of stairs, then get stuck on the landing and not do the last few. He'd bark until we'd rescue him. He was like that on the spiral staircase at the cottage, too, only there he would make it all the way to the very last step at the top, and then decide he couldn't do that one.

Chipper didn't have a lot of tricks, but he would sit before he got a treat, and sometimes he'd do "Up and dance!" There was a small stretch of time where he was afraid of treats. He never liked dog biscuits, only soft meaty treats.

Chipper had a silly under-bite, until he had to have a bunch of teeth pulled a couple of years ago, and he ended up with a funny single snaggle-tooth poking up in the front.

 

We only saw Chipper swim one time, and it was hilarious. (Apparently he could do it, he just didn't like it.)

Bubble bath dog

He used to do this thing we dubbed "More Paws" where he would put his two front paws together and bend them forward repeatedly like a wave. Chipper would do that when he wanted more petting. If you rubbed his belly, then stopped, he would do More Paws. Sometimes if he were tired, you might only get a little twitch of the More Paws, and that was really cute.

After a trip to the groomer, Chipper would spend a lot of time rubbing himself into the living room carpet and wiggling on his back, we assume to get the smell of vanilla off his fur.

People always tried to do that thing with Chipper where they hold out their hand to let the dog sniff it before attempting petting. We always had to warn people that was a quick way to get bitten with Chipper, but people seldom listened and did it anyway. If we had people over, we usually kept Chipper in a muzzle for everyone's safety.

Chipper begging at the table was always cute. I was the worst offender at always giving in and letting him have a bite. (But look how little and cute!)

 

After a bath, he used to try to run himself dry. He would take crazy laps around the house. He even tried that once after he went blind, but with unsuccessful results.

Wet pup in the kitchen sink.

Chipper used to allow me a morning snuggle. He would come over to my side of the bed and beg to be let up. (It had to be my side, because Ian would never let him up.) Once I scooped the dog next to me, I'd get about two minutes of snuggle time where the dog would be adorable and cuddly. Then he would walk over me to curl up at Ian's feet where he really wanted to be, and at that point the dog's focus switched to protecting Ian, so I had to be careful. (No goodbye kisses for Ian if I needed to leave and the dog was on the bed.)

Chipper loved the idea of getting in the car, but hated car rides. I think he mostly didn't want us to leave without him anywhere. If we were packing the car for a trip, he would often slip out the door, jump in the car, and hunker down where we couldn't reach him so we would have to bring him along. He had a crate to do long drives in, and he spent most of the time drooling. He was not into sticking his head out the window. He was more about skulking around along the floor, and trying to get in the way of the driver's feet.

Chipper didn't like people on bicycles.

Chipper was oblivious to any games we were trying to play on the floor. He would happily walk all over a Settlers of Catan board to get to someone who might pet him. (Safer to play on a table.) And many times while were gathered in the living room to play cards or a board game, Chipper would take the opportunity to bring someone a toy, and then we'd have to strategically throw the rope in directions that wouldn't cause him to run straight through whatever we were doing.

Toward the end, the dog went blind. He would still follow whatever his code was for defending whoever, but he'd often be facing the wrong way while barking. It was sad watching Chipper bumble about the house, trying to do his normal rounds the way he used to, but he didn't seem fazed. He just knew in the middle of the night he still wanted to switch from sleeping in the dog bed in our room, to sleeping next to Aden's bed.

As he got weaker and sicker, he took to sleeping on Aden's bed. He wanted to be glued to Aden at all times, which made certain activities like drawing and using the computer harder.

Aden trying to use the computer with all the pets.

 

Chipper never liked me working in my shop at home. He used to come in and try to lure me away from whatever violin I was making. He did that pretty much up to the end, with his little legs (that the vet had shaved for his IV and looked like a bad and incomplete poodle cut) up on my knees, trying to get me to come to upstairs for the night.

I loved our dog's one white toe.

The last few weeks of Chipper's life were so hard. He'd gone blind a couple of months before, but we simply tried to roll with it since he otherwise seemed fine. Then came the difficult visit to the emergency vet around Valentine's Day where he spent two nights. Lots of organs seemed to be failing. There was not much they said could be done. Aden became the dog's nurse, more so than before when she primarily kept him from falling down the stairs.

Aden did everything for Chipper, her little blind dog who wanted to lie on her all the time.

Aden tried to get him to eat, and in the final week gave up. She made sure he got all his pills. His breath smelled like epoxy. He had seizures that were scary. His breathing became labored, and there were small yips of pain now and then, along with shaking. We held onto the idea that he would pass away at home. I worried taking him to the vet one last time would be a stressful way to go. As long as he wasn't suffering, we figured keeping him at home was best. But every day for weeks I was shocked in the morning that he was still alive. I don't think we should have let him linger as long as we did, but it was such a hard call.

In the last hours we were counting the minutes until the vet opened so we could put him to sleep and stop his suffering. In the end, he did become peaceful and still and took his last breath in the music room, stretched out on the rollout bed where Aden had stayed all night with him. Chipper died lying against Ian, at home, I hope knowing all of us were around. (And he was on a towel. Chipper loved a good towel.)

Ian's story of waiting for the Humane Society to open in order to have our dog cremated was heartbreaking. Everyone else in line was there to have their pet euthanized. (In the case of one woman with a cat, she couldn't afford the vet bill that would have made her cat well, so she wound up surrendering the animal for adoption so they would foot the bill.) Ian said he'd never stood in a line of sadder people, and how odd to be standing in it with a dead dog knowing in his case the worst was over.

Now Chipper's ashes sit in a pretty little box in the dining room. We plan to spread them on the horse trail he loved sometime this summer. 

I honestly don't think he would have had the chance at such a nice life if we hadn't brought him home. I don't think many people would have put up with him. We often said that we were the right family for Chipper, even if Chipper wasn't the right dog for our family. But maybe not.

We loved our weird little dog. He wasn't an easy dog. But he was our dog. And we miss him.

 Goodbye Chipper. Thanks for being our dog.