Although this photo was, indeed, taken at the Renegade Theatre Festival in Lansing’s Old Town Saturday, grandson Colin was snoozing before the curtain went up.
He came alive for Kellie Stonebrook’s “Wanda and Friends” puppet show, and gave it two thumbs up.
The word’s out
Until last week, I had my section of Lake Huron to myself. I was the only diehard out there wondering when the salmon would show up - and, at times, feeling like the kid fishing in “McElligot’s Pool” (the Dr. Seuss book ) - only less hopeful.
After I started catching fish, and informing Hammond Bay harbormasters of my success, I’ve been getting more and more company.
A coincidence, perhaps.
The talk at the Alaiedon Township polls on election day wasn’t about politics. It wasn’t even about the weather, exactly. It was about tomatoes.
A vine-ripened tomato from one’s own backyard is a fleeting delicacy, and deserves one’s full attention.
The real thing is here, and it’s now.
Read my Michigander column by clicking on the red gold.
Farewell, Mootsy: 1999-2014
Late Tuesday afternoon I got a call from a neighbor who wondered if I might know who, in the neighborhood, owned a calico cat. Such a cat had turned up at his back door, in bad shape.
I grabbed a box and headed over there. Indeed, the calico princess could barely move. I brought her home, got her blanket, and put her in one of her favorite spots - in our solarium, facing into the backyard, through the sliding screen door.
She died during the night. My wife and I buried her in our woods, next to her predecessor.
We’re officially done with pets.
So, we returned home Monday afternoon from a weekend at the lake and, as usual, the calico princess, aka Mootsy, aka Gaultier, was eager to go outside.
We obliged, and haven’t seen her since. I’m writing this at 11 a.m. Tuesday. She rarely wanders from the immediate vicinity of the house, and never stays out all night.
We looked for her until midnight and, this morning, checked all her usual hiding spots (under the deck, beneath the front porch, etc.).
Going on 16, she’s been in declining health. Do cats customarily wander into the sunset when their time comes?