Paddy's Wanderings

Paddy's Poetry Corner ~ Old Mission

It is that time again kiddos. Break out the bongos, snap those fingers. Old Mission Pennisula is one of the coolest places on earth and is one I have visited often. This poem I wrote a zillion years ago and tries to capture a broad picture of the place. It falls short, as so often words will do. But! I am working on that and refining that skill to someday, hopefully be able to capture the magic of places like this.

Old Mission

 

Honey bees dart between cherry blossoms,
as a cool breeze blows off the lake
with the morning sun trailing behind;
ancient elms trace long shadows of the past.

The clear blue water portrays still life
portraits of the meandering shoreline;
each pebble and stone, an etched history
of the days before man walked here.

A broken shell from the pioneer days
is the only remnant of the mission church,
where brave men brought their message,
leaving their homeland for the new world.

Even the lighthouse at the peninsula's point
has become a relic of long forgotten days,
when severe Michigan storms threw sail boats
against the dangerous limestone reefs.

Orchards and mansions fill the country side
with modern technology and civilization.
This too will pass in the currents of time,
leaving memories and museums of the present.

The Farm ~ That Old Barn

The techno-kid is standing in the hay loft in ye olde barn. He has no idea, but that barn has a good hundred years on him, a lot of little guys have stood there over the years. Even this guy has stood there. I also helped fill that loft with fresh cut bales of hay, right up to the top.

We are pretty sure that barn was built in 1903, or maybe '04. The people that know for sure are gone now. The barn next door was built in 1906, we know that for sure, and this barn was built two or three years before. It was the second barn built at the farm. The first barn was built around 1884 and is long gone. When I was a kid, the roof had collapsed in most places and it was not used. I gotta find a picture of that one!

Look closely at this picture. See the pegs? Yep, the barn was not built with any nails, just wooden pegs and it has stood this long. Take a look at this next picture, another fine example of craftsmanship.

Now if you look at those pictures, you would think the wood is just old, rough wood. It is that, but it is also much more. The wood is a bit rough with age, faded and such, but strong as ever. The pictures dont do it justice, but you might just see how the wood was fashioned. Yes.. fashioned.

When they built the buildings for the farm, they got the stone from the field, the wood from the hard woods. They cleared the land and used what they cleared to build barns and houses and such. Clever, if you ask me, and of course, out of necessity. There is some fantastic planks where you can see they used an awl to shape them, a hand drill to set the holes for the pegs.

The big barn needs a roof, and my da is having that done, then metal siding over the sides to perserve the lumber. The stone? He hired a guy to fix it and re-seal it. The other buildings, the old ice house/tool shed and a pig barn, are already done.

You may say why do this now if the buildings have lasted for a hundred years? Well.. if we did nothing, then the holes in the roof would let water sit on the beams, and they would slowly rot. This leads to building collapse and that would be a shame. So my dad decided to do all he could to save what was left. This is cool.

The first barn collapsed when I was a wee lad. The first little house was long gone before I was born. The blacksmith shop was in pieces and my grandfather gave it to a museum when I was a kid. The second house collapsed fifteen years ago. The last house is about to go and we can not save it. So my father saves what he can. This is good.

Someday, I hope we can build another house there. I am sure it will not be as cool as the original buildings. After all, we are not going to go out into the woods and chop down trees to build it, nor go into the field to get stone for a foundation. As awesome as that sounds, I dont know if I could even attempt to do what they did. But still, we can save what is there.

And we can dream...

 

Of Old Stories ~ Journal of Krish

from the Journal of Krish..summer before the Death of Carnac

As I get older, I look farther back. It seems natural in a keeper of the stories. This is what I have trained to do, what I have practiced for many seasons. Much like the old ways are fading, the old stories are harder and harder to find. This saddens me, but also drives my personal quest.

Carnac has helped me over the years, he was as fascinated with the history of the people of the valley as much as have been. That quest leads me to travel and talk to the eldest of our people. I have learned much, and there is more to learn, more to know. This is one of the reasons Carnac has said we need to write all of this into scolls. Someday, we may forget.

Carnac has said a lot of things that I have never understood, or only now, as I think back on those conversations, do I see the wisdom in what he says. Then again, not all he has learned has been usefull, or even entertaining, but much like wheat, some times you have to winnow the husk to get the source.

Some days I leave a trail of husk and wonder if I know the difference. This is where the scrolls come into play I believe. Record it all, and later go back and find the hidden kernal. Or maybe not, I am not so arrogant to believe that I am that wise. So maybe he was right in saying we need to record it all and figure it out on cold winter nights by the fire.

I do know one thing I need to do. I just have to get my thoughts and stories straight and write the complete story, as much as I know, into the scrolls. The time of fire and ice is a story most dont believe or maybe, dont want to believe. But I think, it is a story that must be told and never forgotten. Maybe that is my next task.

I should talk to Carnac this harvest, go and see him and see what he says.

 

Then & Now ~ Signposts

I saw this sign a month ago when driving to the Farm. I was floored, so much so that I whipped the old SheepleJeeple into that drive, turned around, and had better 1/2 take a pic. I am still a bit freaked out by this sign.

We were cruising along M-33 and had to take a left onto County Road 451 to head into Hillman and then on north toward the homestead. This is nothing new, been doing this since I was a wee lad asleep in the back seat of ye olde Comet. It was not there and I am not sure when it did pop up. I am sure it has been there for a couple of years and I just noticed it, but it is fairly new. Weird, I know.

The left turn still drives me crazy, been like that for years, but it used to be a straight shot into Hillman and the old steel rail bridge. You knew you were in Hillman when you went down the hill to the little 1 1/2 lane bridge. It creaked, that old steel bridge. Now its a left hand turn and has signage.

Royston on a highway marker, 8 miles away? I mean Royston really is a wide spot in the road and if you dont know you are there, you.. dont know you went through it. I almost missed it myself this time around, it has changed. Yes..it has changed. I knew we were there when I was a kid because when we came around the bend I could see the big pine tree and the school bus. The lady that lived there drove bus and parked it in her drive on the weekends. Crazy eh?

Rogers City on a sign, 27 miles away? Sure, I can see that, Rogers is a pretty big burg and the biggest metroplitan area in Presque Isle county. So yeah.. I can see that. Makes sense to have a sign pointing the way North for all the down staters.

After all, most of the old farmsteads in that area have become almost ghost town like. The old folks are passing on and all the kids, my parents generation, moved down state for jobs 40 years ago. Their kids(myself included) stayed and work and live down state and only visit north once in a great while. It makes sense to have that on a sign, most have forgotten the way.

But Hawks? Really? You thought I forgot, didn't you. I have not. Seeing that on a sign blew my mind. I don't need a sign to point me the way. Apparently, someone somewhere, thought people might. I know the way, I will not forget.

The old signs are gone. The new signs are too new for me, but they do mark the way for the techno-tot. That right there is both good and bad. I don't need the signs, the path is etched in my mind, I could travel there without so much as a glance. Year after year, spent a long time on roads in all weather and even during holiday weekends crawling along the Great North Road.

The t-k does not have that as a concious memeory. Yet. Oh I have no doubt it is there, buried deep. I just have to coax it out and he can see that road through my eyes, and I can see it through him. It is something I need to pass along to all the boyos and I have not done that enough. Yet.

Some people only want the destination, some only want the trip. Me? I want all of it, because it is all worthy of a wanderer. Time travel is groovy dontchya think?

 

 

 

Then & Now ~ The Fort

The t-k is standing by the canon near the water's edge out front of the Fort at Michilimackinac. We watched them shoot the canon and it was cool. Oh we have done that before with the big bros, and for me and better 1/2 when we were kids, but it is always cool.

He said to me, are they shooting at that boat on the lake? Well.. not exactly. He says oh, they must be good guys in that boat. It was a lake freighter and hopefully it wasnt their first trip through the straights and they had experienced the british shooting at them from the fort as they went under the big bridge.

It was a ton of fun. We explored the fort and really enjoyed the museum. I chatted with one of the archaeologists and was tickled beyond belief, she was very cool at it was kind of her to talk to me about the project in the hot sun. They are funded by the sales they make in the gift shop and the admissions to the fort. Now I am here to tell ya, for the four of us, it was like $30 to get in and that, my fellow wanderers, is a steal.

We also got to see a demonstration of them shooting the muskets, again, very cool. The t-k got to haul wood and experience, if briefly, the life as a kid at the fort. We also got to see some cool stuff from the Ojibwe, the native people of the territory. It was all around cool for the t-k and us old hats who have explored the fort before. It had been awhile for us.

Better 1/2 and I have been going to Mackinac, seeing the big bridge and checking out the Fort since we were little tykes. My mom went there as a kid back in the Hep-Cat Fifties and Swinging Sixties. My grandparents drove a bus load of kids there every spring on a field trip. It is so cool, it is generational.

I could write pages and pages about the fort, but you can just hit this link, here.

I love history, archaeology and exploring the lakes. There is no place like the mitten, no other place I would rather live. Oh sure, who doesn't love to explore the world at large? But here, here there is plenty to fill a lifetime of wandering.

I got a pic of the tyke peeking out from the tower of the fort and it is somewhere in the digital-verse, I just have to find it. I am sure I saw a ghost of another little guy peeking over his shoulder, he looked familiar. Much has changed over time, but some things endure. The Fort, and that whole experience and love of history, that has not changed.

This is what binds us, makes us a people. When new folks move in, we should share this wealth, make them part of the family. You wanna know a Michigander? Explore this land and you will see. There is much to learn and do. I have a tyke to share with, much like we did with the older bros. We all have many roads to travel still, new paths to discover.

This is why I wander.

 

Hunting Treasures

If you been around, you may I have seen this pic of the standard junk drawer in ye olde homestead. This was my day in a way. Its like this see...

Due to being stuck at the homestead and not being able to go up to the Farm, I had to find something to do or go nutz at the house. So I volunteered to go with gammie, better 1/2, and the t-k to some rummage/estaste sales. Silly I know, but well, why not.

So then, I joined the throng of wandering sheeple(who are stuck at home and not making the big trek on the North Road). It is, after all, a Great American Pastime. Oh they may do this in other parts of the planet, I really don't know, but here, here it is an art form in itself.

I drove, slowly cruising the streets, looking for homemade signs indicating a veritable treasure trove is waiting in the drive, all clothes half off!, etc. Better 1/2 directed from the back, carefully choosing each location we would stop at. After all, we would not stop at each location, there are some that, even from the road at slow cruising speed, she could tell were not going to have anything she would be interested in looking at. I guess.. I was just the driver of the SheepleJeep.

The only thing that caught my attention was the kids selling lemonade while their mom sold old clothes and assorted and sundry.. items. I noticed they were watching the toy table rather closely. I am sure some items that were there the kids hoped would not sell. But it was the lemonade stand that got me thinking.

I remember we had a huge garage sale at my house when I was a wee lad. My two aunts brought over pickup loads of stuff and it was huge. I lived on a rather busy street and had the bright idea of selling lemonade. My brother and I sold a lot of lemonade on that hot summer day. We watched the toy table too. In the end though, it was ok, we had a few dollars(Fashioned Challenged Seventies Dollars, the kind that bought LOTS of stuff) to show for our labor, so we could replace our sold toys, for new, bright and shiny toys. So it was good.

The t-k found a couple toy trucks to add to the mountain of wheeled toys he already has, gammie and better 1/2 found a couple of things they could not pass up(it is ONLY a quarter) and I got a neat memeory bubble to the surface.

I also think that there are people who travel the endless streets of rummage sales and buy stuff for the sole purpose of selling it in their driveways at some future date. That would explain much. I also think that for an author to truly have made it, they must have dog eared copies of their books on sale for a quarter at rummage sales. King, Coontz, Patterson & Grisham were in fine form today.

In the end, the rain sent everyone packing and we went off to have lunch. Not a bad day at all. Everyone had a good time and we added, albeit not by much but still.., to our collection of future rummage sale treasures.

Happy Treasure Hunting