NOFO. That's the North Fork to you

Our family vacation this year was just awesome.  We spent 11 days in Mattituck, NY, on the North Fork. We rented kayaks for most of the first week, and the Runner and I took them out every single day, together! Alone!  We did take the Talker on a long kayak excursion (probably a total of 4 miles out and back) to a salt marsh to explore the wildlife there.  So terrific.  The only way it could've been better is if I'd had some chicken necks and string and a bucket for all the blue crabs that would've become an illegal (but delicious) lunch. The Talker's godfather came down for a long weekend, which was a major treat for all of us, especially the Runner.  They went clamming, we ate steamers.  They went out again, we had the BEST clam chowder (Rhode Island style) courtesy of Gramps (and Froggy Gramps, really).

How lucky were we??  Both sets of grandparents took the kids to the Up & Down Horsey in Greenport!  And Miss Rosie found a blueberry bush with enough ripe berries to last her at least a week (and enough to turn her poo bright green. Who knew?!)

There was always a full house, but it made for lots of interesting conversations and late night card games.  and I, of course, got in a ton of knitting with some lovely yarn from Knitche. Very relaxing.We didn't have a single bad beach day, and the Talker took to the water like a slippery, white otter. He even played a bit with his sister. It was a week full to the brim with blessings and family time, and I'm pretty sure it was desperately needed by all of us. We came home renewed and ready for whatever the coming chill holds.  Except maybe for the actual chill part.  At least I would be willing to pass on that. It's possible that these pictures will find their way into a post in January when the snow is six inches deep but the Talker still has school.  Ahhh, sweet home, Chicago.

Exploring the Michigan Coast

We are East Coast babies in our house.  I hate to admit that sometimes, because folks from the Midwest are truly so much nicer than we are - and we'd be lucky to be Midwesterners, but we're just not.  Our real problem has always stemmed from a bit of snobbery surrounding access to an ocean.  You know: Saltwater. Seafood. Undertow.

The Runner is not only a snobby East Coaster, he's also a stuck up New Englander. (Sorry, babe!)  I don't mean that he is rude - quite the contrary.  What I mean is that he likes certain things to be a certain way. Roads, for example. They should be windy and have trees that could be growing into your lane. Sugaring sap should run in most of them, too. There is no Spring where he is from, just Mud Season. I, too, have my moments. Mine typically center on access to fresh seafood and not being "land locked."  Ridiculous, I am aware.  But still.  When we first moved to Chicagoland I went to 4 different grocery stores before I could find a tin of Old Bay. (The pride of Maryland!)  I was extremely agitated by this - what kind of place were we living in now?  Clearly we were no where near the Bay, and I wouldn't be organizing large crab feasts in our backyard with tons of newspaper and paper towels and melted butter.  I mean, honestly, Dwyer. What were you expecting?!

Much of this changed, however, over the Fourth of July weekend.  On a whim that was characteristic of our lives before homeownership, we skipped town with zero plan on Saturday morning, just knowing that we were headed to the Michigan Coast to check things out.

WOW.  There were windy roads and farm stands and trees threatening to shove us into oncoming traffic. There was a big sandy beach with Mattituck-like waves. There were even signs alerting swimmers to the dangers of an undertow. An undertow!  In Lake Michigan! (I didn't need to read it, though. I could recite that warning in my sleep.)  The sand was so hot it burned The Runner's feet!  I did miss the salt and seafood, though.  But the perk of no salt is that you don't feel desperate for a shower immediately after leaving the beach.

We started in Holland and had a yummy lunch at the New Holland Brewing Company. Several of The Runner's friends had recommended it (for the beer), but the food was quite good on its own, especially the homemade hummus.  Then we hit Holland State Park where we burned our feet, read the riptide warning, swam, and threw some sand at other small children.  Oh, wait, that was The Talker.

On the 4th we drove into Saugatuck, an artsy little town with a rockin' Fourth of July parade. The Talker scored more candy than he did as a rootin-tootin' cowboy on Halloween.  Rosie cried when the fire trucks came through.  I aquired a coffee table book from the a group fighting to preserve the Saugatuck Dunes. It was a very generous parade. We drove home by way of South Haven, mainly because I needed some ice cream.

The whole coastline was gorgeous.  And everyone we've talked to since said it just gets more pristine and lovely as you drive north. Who knows?  Maybe our next adventure will take us up to Traverse City?  If you can't beat 'em (or organize a crab feast), join 'em.