WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

I felt like I should hang out a sign when I departed this morning on my walk: “Gone Galavantin’ – back in a bit” – you know, kind of like a fisherman does when he heads out, pole in hand and a can of night crawlers and his favorite lures within easy reach.

I meandered along leisurely, lollygagging as much as I could to extend my trip and enjoy the beautiful day. I was happy to stray from the regular schedule, because, even though it was a work day, I was not in a terrible hurry to get back home since my boss is sailing the Great Lakes today and through the weekend on the cement-hauling freighter, the Steamship Alpena. He packed up his sailor’s duffel bag and left the port of Detroit today; the next stop will be Cleveland, Ohio and then he will hop off in Alpena, Michigan on Sunday. It promises to be a perfect weather weekend, so he lucked out this time – sometimes when he has sailed on this annual jaunt, it has been rainy and stormy, or cold and very breezy out on the “high seas”.

The weather here in my neck of the woods was picture perfect today, and, when I stepped out of the house for my walk it was a cool 56 degrees and a little breezy. The Summer heat and humidity have taken a brief hiatus – I can’t say I’m sorry to see them go.

I had a slew of errands which could have been done by car easily enough, but they were all along Fort Street, so I decided to tackle that list on foot.

While pounding the pavement along the highway is neither picturesque, nor does it produce much fodder for a blog post, it was an easy-breezy way to add another five miles to my total.

Despite the blah-and-boring venue, I have to agree with the poet and naturalist Henry David Thoreau, who would tell you “an early-morning walk is a blessing for the whole day.”

Tomorrow, I’ll return to Council Point Park and commune with Mother Nature’s marvels instead of MDOT’s mundane asphalt and cement.

I guess I have water on the brain, er mind today.

On Wednesday, the forecast on every news site screamed out severe weather beginning in the afternoon and lasting into the evening hours.

We’ve been busy at work this past week, and I struggled to juggle everything to get it finished before that severe weather arrived, lest an electrical current would give me permanently curly hair, while my hands were still placed on the home keys.

Luckily that bad storm coming from Chicago just meandered along, fizzled and died, and all our area got was a whole lot of rain and a few thunder boomers which waited until the wee hours of this morning to arrive.

After the alarm rang, I turned it off and listened intently for raindrops, half wanting to hear that pitter patter on the patio roof so I could snuggle back under the blanket, versus getting up early so I had time to walk before I had to get back here for work. Well, it was raining lightly – oh … decisions, decisions.

I grabbed my radio headphones at my bedside, expecting to hear news about power outages or torrential flooding from the aftermath of the torrential rain, but, instead the news was chockfull of the terrible tanker accident that happened about 3:00 a.m., after the driver lost control of his rig, struck the median wall and flipped over from the southbound to northbound side of the expressway. The tanker quickly exploded, caught fire and soon 8,000 gallons of gasoline had trickled from the tank, spread quickly onto the pavement and seeped into the grass and sewer system. The driver was burned over 90% of his body.

This horrific accident happened about three miles from where I live.

In between the grisly details, a quick weather forecast promised the sun would show its face by a.m. drive time, so rather reluctantly I got up.

The reporters breathlessly gave on-scene accounts of the accident and I listened while I made, then had breakfast, and all the while I was shaking my head over the enormity of the incident. Lincoln Park’s Fire Chief was interviewed and said thankfully the gasoline had not infiltrated the residential water supply. Well, gulp … I had never thought of that, but it gave me cause to pause … especially after having had a glass of water, a cup of coffee and downed a bowl of oatmeal. Yikes!

By the time I finished up breakfast and got dressed, the rain was indeed over, and a stiff breeze had blown the pavement dry, much like the blower at the car wash … how handy was that? One big whoosh and it was dry enough to go for a walk.

Besides blowing any vestiges of the rain away, the wind must have erased the rainbow, so I had to settle for a plain blue sky with the occasional puffy and fluffy cloud drifting by.

I headed toward the River, and, at the footbridge dividing Lincoln Park and Wyandotte, I gave a sideways glance toward the water to check if anything interesting was in there … a few turtles were nipping the surface but they disappeared back into the water once they saw me – the humongous human peering into their domain. A single female mallard duck darted out from beneath the bridge and startled me because I remembered fellow walker Mary telling me yesterday she saw a huge muskrat as she crossed the bridge but he quickly raced for cover behind some reeds once he caught sight of her. Well, there is no muskrat love for me – I was just happy to see Mrs. Duck this morning.

And then I saw it … abandoned in a corner, tucked amongst the reeds … a lowly basketball bobbing quietly in its watery grave. Where did it come from? How did this ball end up here? It looked to be in fine form with no visible bashes or bangs to its pebbly exterior – nope, this was no deflated ball. I immediately thought of the volleyball “Wilson” from the film “Castaway”, but this ball was devoid of anything remarkable, and, it was, of course, missing that unmistakable handprint face.

Will that basketball still be there tomorrow or will it pull out of its hideaway and head down toward the Detroit River, where we will find it bobbing amongst the buoys and birds swooping down for a tasty tidbit or two?

Perhaps my boss will see it as he glides by on his steamship ride out of Detroit to Alpena, via Cleveland tomorrow, so perhaps I’ll shoot him an e-mail to suggest he scoop it up and we’ll try to return it to its rightful owner.

It’s a picture-perfect day for a cruise – the Woodward Dream Cruise that is. While this annual event, now in its 20^th year, takes place many miles from where I live, you simply cannot escape the hoopla surrounding the granddaddy of all Michigan cruising events.

In my neck of the woods, we had “Cruisin’ Downriver” a few months ago, and I was disappointed when an all-day rain cancelled the inaugural “Ponies in the Park”, the collection of classic Mustangs from the inception of the brand. Maybe next year it will return.

All week, and especially today, I’ve been listening to sound bites of classic car owners talking about their “baby”, and, of course, there are the spectators who would give their eyeteeth to own a classic car, but instead must just enjoy these beauties vicariously. When I’ve wandered over to see the lineup of cars at Cruisin’ Downriver, I must admit my all-time favorite was the Mustang.

Since it is a for dusting off the oldies, and, even though it is not “Wayback Wednesday”, “Throwback Thursday” or “Flashback Friday”, I thought I’d include a photo of my big ride from back in 1968. This old nag didn’t have the horsepower of a Mustang, Pinto, or sure as heck was no Bronco either, but it was good for a photo op anyway. Our family was up North in Alpena, having rented a cottage for a couple of weeks. During that time period, the weather was hot and sunny, but those incessant biting black flies were really a drag, and they weren’t the only critters around – a bull moose called out to his mate nightly and there was a big brown bear lingering around the dumpsite where we had to take our trash. So much for the Great Up North experience. We spent most evenings tucked inside the cottage. The portable TV we brought along received one channel and was chock full of the Republican National Convention, so luckily we all brought reading material, played board games or cards. About five times my father and I visited a local stable which featured horseback riding and I had the same disinterested-looking nag each time. My father remarked that this sorry-looking horse looked like it was ready for the glue factory.

It is a day for reminiscing all the way around, not just for shiny classic cars … it was Day #1 of three days of peace and music, a/k/a Woodstock, circa 1969 and the Beatles played at Shea Stadium 50 years ago today – August 15, 1965. Unbelievably the tickets went for $3.00. Shocking, eh? For $3.00 I used to fill up the tank of my VW bug when I first got it in August of 1973. With the recent gas price hike, you’ve got to figure the gas stations around the Dream Cruise event are cashing in bigtime today. I imagine alot of those old cars will need to stop frequently to cool their engines on this very hot day, while their owners are wishing they could find a malt shop to suck down a quick cream soda, or, at the very least, a bottle of cold Coca-Cola, “the pause that refreshes”.

As to me, I was up and at it early to beat the heat, and went down to the Park, where many others had the same idea. I got my perimeter loops walked and was back home before the cruise began at 9:00 a.m., sipping on a cold glass of cider, though a fizzy Orange Crush or Cherry Coke would have wet my whistle just as well.

Ahh – nothing like a little stroll down memory lane to restore your soul.

Summer’s heat and humidity have made an encore performance and will linger over the next four days. I lost track of whether it rained or not last night, and, since it was sooooo muggy, I thought Council Point Park might be buggy, so I opted to trek down to the river instead of the Park to get today’s walk done.

My boss has been on vacation this week in the Upper Peninsula, so I was able to get some long-ignored cleaning done in the house, tackled and tamed the weeds, plus laid in some provisions for the Winter, the latter of which was probably my most-favorite chore of the trio.

When I headed out, the streets were bare, so I suspect alot of people headed up North early to enjoy the water in the warmer weather. Even the songbirds were silent as I wended my way down to Wyandotte to the marina and back. I missed the train by a hair, so there was no need to stop at the railroad crossing and lose momentum.

While walking, I was thinking that there never seems to be enough perfect weather days (in my opinion anyway), and, our sometimes-fractious Michigan weather makes us either sweat or freeze – thus, there is no happy medium. If you’re not a Winter sports enthusiast, you may spend most of the cold-weather months hunkered down in the house, hibernating like a bear. If you don’t enjoy being on or around the water during the Summertime, you’re basically relegated to parking yourself near a fan, or enjoying the A/C. I don’t like the extreme weather at all, and I’m not looking forward to this batch of 90-degree days.

It seems impossible that August will be half over tomorrow, and, even more incredible that pre-season football is here already. Currently, the Detroit fair-weather sports fans are all agog over their Lions, but their Tigers not so much – perhaps the players, like this bear, should go into hibernation the rest of the 2015 season. (Of course, tying these critters together in a sentence could only make me have an earworm for that famous line out of “The Wizard of Oz” … lions and tigers and bears … oh my!)

I got home, and checked the pedometer – five miles today. I’ve now walked 353 miles to date this year and hope to stay on target to get to 400 by Labor Day. The docs tell you to stay hydrated in this heat and humidity, but I didn’t take along a water bottle, so I headed to the fridge, just as soon as I got home, my tongue hanging out for a tall glass of cold strawberry milk. I grabbed the half-gallon out of the fridge to pour some into a glass. As I watched in horror, big globs came out of the container and plopped into my glass. It looked more like strawberry yogurt – blech! I had a big glass yesterday and the date wasn’t expired – well, I’m not expired either, so all that mischief happened after I had a big swig yesterday. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate … well, it was just plain old H20 today.

I was ready to hit the ground running today for a pleasurable and well-deserved long walk.

The morning air had a real Fall-like feel to it and it was breezy as well. As usual, I “dressed wrong”, despite listening to two weather forecasts before I left. I must admit I was chilly as I walked along the water’s edge.

Just like this little squirrel at the Park, I, too, have been thinking ahead to the cold and nasty weather that is just a few short months away. You know it is coming – the sun is a slacker these days … later to rise and going to bed earlier, so, for the past few days I’ve been laying in pantry provisions for the Winter months. I trekked around Meijer for hours, then schlepped bags in from the car, one by one, to build up some walking steps, and, before I was done, I had slowly filled the pantry shelves, plus added multiple miles to my walking total.

So, you see my little furry friend is not the only one squirreling away food for the future; I just don’t run like heck and bury my stuff like he does.

I noted that the grocery store is slowly morphing from a Summer extravaganza to Autumn happenings. The BBQs and patio furniture are on sale for a song, and the fertilizer and bug repellent have been tucked away, only to be replaced by backpacks and lunch totes, not to mention the traditional back-to-school items like paper and pencils. Quite honestly, I didn’t think kids used those basic items anymore.

All too soon, the rows of rakes will uniformly line the aisles and yard waste bags will be piled sky high on end caps, all to be used to snag and capture all the brittle Fall leaves. I’m sure the store’s creative designer is tapping his or her foot, just waiting for the school supplies to be scooped up, so the Halloween items and Fall décor can be shuffled in quickly.

You’ll know Fall has arrived once you see the bales of hay, exquisite mums and gangly or misshapen-looking gourds gracing the entrance to the store, and, don’t forget the caramel apples once they show up in the produce department. I’ve had an unexpected treat all Summer since Meijer had decided to carry apple cider all year around now, so, no need to wait ‘til harvest time and hoodie weather to sip that tasty and aromatic drink.

My trip to the Park was rewarding as I took in the rich beauty of a sunny Summer Day and a nature alcove plunked in the middle of the city. I walked two complete loops before heading home, and truly hated to go inside as it was just a glorious day … I wished I could bottle it up to exchange it for one of those blustery, ugly snow-filled days we’ll have come January or February.

Back in May, the City of Detroit was a virtual sea of pink-clad walkers on a soggy Saturday morning. They walked because they had a personal story to tell, or to honor the memory of someone lost to this disease.

This weekend, still more walkers laced up their sneakers and paced themselves in heat, humidity and rain to walk 60 miles “for the cure”.

So today … instead of talking about and touting my daily mileage, I’d rather give kudos to the walkers who finished the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk to raise money for breast cancer.

I’ve just been watching the clips of the highlights of the event on the various news stations I follow on Facebook. Those weary walkers began their trek Friday morning, walked 20 miles per day and each had to raise $2,300.00. You could tell the experience was uplifting … the tears of joy and sense of accomplishment, not to mention hugs between survivors and those who walked for family and friends who lost their battle. Their elation, upon completion of their mission, brought tears to my eyes as well. The Michigan leg of the Komen 3-Day Walk raised $2 million thanks to 650 dedicated men and women, so that one day – some day – a cure will be found.

Hope is like peace.

It is not a gift from God.

It is a gift only we can give one another.

~ Elie Wiesel

The cooler weather refreshes all of us – it makes you want to get out and kick up your heels.

I know I am really enjoying my walks in these cool, even crisp-feeling, mornings.

I got in another five-mile jaunt today by doing a round trip from home to the marina and back. The morning was still as I wended my way down Emmons Boulevard. A few birds twittered and chirped and in the distance a lonely woodpecker was taking drilling practice in a tall tree, no doubt leaving it pock-marked with his sharp beak.

As I approached a huge tree, a pair of squirrels was playing a vigorous game of hide-and-seek, causing me to gasp one time when the two of them ran down the tree and continued their chase out into the street. I had to look away, but thankfully the motorist was going slowly and gave them a brake. Whew!

Speaking of breaks … today, a black squirrel, just like this one, captured the Comerica Park crowd’s interest during the 8^th inning when he darted out into the field. All play was halted while the squirrel prowled around a bit, then went back to where he came from.

After play resumed between the Tigers and Royals, a Twitter account was quickly created for the intruder (Black Squirrel @Tigers Squirrel) and our thoroughly modern furry friend churned out a couple of Tweets: “I did it” and “That was fun …” which was soon followed by his Retweet by MLB.com “and we shall call him, the #WalkoffSquirrel” … you can see him and read the story here: http://atmlb.com/1OTPSAj .

Hey – no time like the present to act squirrelly is my motto too sometimes.

The thermometer’s up, it’s down, then up again. The old adage about waiting a few minutes and the weather will change could not be truer in this state. This Summer I’ve had to have three different sets of walking clothes at the ready depending on how cool or warm it is. This morning felt downright chilly.

I hopped out of bed and got out the door and down to the Park in record time. These past few days I’ve been swamped at work so I wanted to ensure I got my five miles in for today while the weather is so perfect, and, indeed, I was able to do so.

I decided to include this picture of the lily pads that float so daintily on the surface of the Creek water with this blog post. I’m still looking for the elusive frogs that should be sitting on top of them, but, as usual, nary a frog was in sight. Perhaps that fraternal order of frogs are consoling Kermit who broke up with Ms. Piggy today. Yes, sadly it’s all over social media and even made the national news.

Sorry Kermit – as you know it’s not easy being green.

Summer has finally kicked into full gear and heat mode is here to stay. In my opinion, it has already overstayed its welcome, but then, I’m not a big fan of hot weather.

According to multiple meteorologists, we have severe weather slated for later today. Since I have several projects for work in the hopper that need to get done, I hopped to it and headed out for my walk early, so hopefully I finish everything before the stormy weather arrives.

There went the weed-pulling expedition (which didn’t break my heart) and the housework got a swift once over, so surely it won’t pass the white-glove test, but I got another five miles under my belt. I know … I need to recalibrate my priorities sometimes.

I saw this rabbit on Emmons Boulevard and he posed for me as you can see above. I often see him at this corner house, hunkering down in the hostas or nibbling the tender blades of grass. I think he’d be an excellent candidate for the Easter ads don’t you? Just picture him hopping down the bunny trail after you Photoshop a wicker basket filled with chocolate eggs and jelly beans onto his paw – he could be a celebrity.

It’s way too early to think about Easter, but this guy has my vote for the cutest candidate for Easter Bunny for the year 2016.

Another beautiful morning and I set out early with the intention of walking the full two loops at Council Point Park. I can’t believe it is the last day of July and soon – too soon, the sun will be getting up way too late and setting much too early. Well fiddle-dee-dee as Scarlett O’Hara would say … we are all too familiar with how short the Summer season really is.

Actually Summer’s midpoint is tomorrow … as of August 1^st, Summer is considered half over.

There are many people who believe that once the 4^th of July has passed, Summer is a done deal.   For me, it is Labor Day – then the Summer is officially kaput. The plethora of Summer art fairs and festivals have finished up and the produce has turned from peaches and plums to apples and pumpkins. Then, you might as well face the music … Fall is on the horizon.

As I stepped out the door today, I was packing my camera and some peanuts and looking for a photo op during my Friday foray to the Park.

But … I never made it to the Park.

I got to the cross street where I usually turn to head to the Park, or the River, when all of a sudden I saw a pit bull on the lawn at the corner lot. His ears were raised up, probably because he no doubt heard the jingle-jangle of the items on my lanyard. I quickly pulled the lanyard taut to silence it and stopped in my tracks. I remembered my neighbor Marge warning me awhile ago to be careful of a pit bull that was roaming the neighborhood. This was my first encounter with it however.

This pit bull was black and white and fairly large. He appeared to be alone. I didn’t see anyone, nor hear any voices, so I figured he was on the loose. To be truthful, he stared at me with a rather disinterested look, then hung his head down and started walking away. But, I was a little spooked anyway, and decided I’d rather not tangle with him, nor be his breakfast tidbit, so I decided to just trek along busy Fort Street should he decide to follow me. I don’t walk along Fort Street too much anymore unless I have errands to run since they raised the speed limit from 35 mph to 45 mph earlier this year. People are in a hurry to get their destination and not always mindful of pedestrians.

As the cars whizzed by and I trudged along, it was breezy … suddenly I got a whiff of something that caused my stomach to growl. It appeared to be wafting from the direction of White Castle. Their marquis was touting “Corn Dog Nibblers” and, yup … that smell could very well be that of hot cornmeal, wrapped around a juicy wienie, fresh out of the deep fryer. I used to love going to fairs and carnivals – not just for the rides, but is there anything that says Summer better than fair fare like elephant ears, candy floss and corn dogs?

Just one whiff of those “Corn Dog Nibblers” took me back to the carnival merry go round, with a cone of candy floss or a corn dog in one hand and hanging on for dear life with the other.

Good thing I don’t carry any $$$ on me.

Today, it was not as scenic as my usual walk, but instead was a tantalizing trek for the taste buds to be sure.