It’s All Happening at the Zoo

Someone told me

It’s all happening at the zoo

I do believe it,

I do believe it’s true.

~Simon and Garfunkel

When was the last time I was at John Ball?  I couldn’t even tell you.  It’s not that I don’t like zoos, but in all honesty I’ve never been impressed with our local park.  But I do love my nieces and nephews, and it would be a great place to spend the afternoon with them.  Okay, I’m in.

The first clue of how much has changed from my last visit occurred the moment I stepped out of the car.

“Aunt Lynn, will you ride the camel with me?” Kaden wondered.

Yes, “Ride a camel” is No. 9 on my Bucket List, but I was thinking more along the lines of trekking through the Sahara with a Berber guide.  A turn or two on a dromedary led by zoo personnel wasn’t gonna cut it.  Could I actually deny a four-year-old his adventurous spirit?  We’ll see …

I’ve learned there are now far more things to do at the zoo than merely check out the animals.  Our first stop was at the Sky Trail Ropes Course.  Towering four stories above the parking lot with two climbing levels, it touts an opportunity to test your strength and your courage. 

With my fear of heights I wasn’t going to do it; no way, no how.  Besides, you have to be 48” tall to participate and Kaden is such a peanut.  Someone had to stay behind with him.  Whew!  Everyone else harnessed up and away they went. 

Sarah found it a bit challenging,

but Zhak and Olivia easily maneuvered the second level.  I swear they are part monkey!

“Aunt Lynn, can we ride the camel now?”

Nope.  Zip line’s next.  Zhak had no qualms about donning another harness to join Miss Cherri in flying four stories above the zoo.  You think he liked it?

“Aunt Lynn, can we ride the camel now?” 

Sorry, Kaden.  Lunch time!  We enjoyed a sammy break, though we could have done without the flock of mangy chickens and loud cock-a-doodle-do’ing that accompanied us on the café terrace. 

“Aunt Lynn, can we ride the camel now?” 

Kaden had been so patient and I’m a sucker for big brown pleading eyes.  How could I say no to that little cutie? 

Yep, we rode the hump.  I was less than enthused; he loved it.  ‘nuff said.

Adventures out of the way, we finally took time to see some of the critters. 

After all was said and done, I was amazed to discover five hours had passed.  Who knew it was so happening at the zoo?!?!?

K-k-k-k-k-Katmandu: A Visit to Kalkaska County

Tourism began around the turn of the century as folks in the Midwest discovered the area as a place to vacation in the great outdoors.  Couple the Pere Marquette State Forest covering much of the county with over 80 lakes and 275 miles of streams and rivers, Kalkaska is indeed a sportsman’s paradise.  It was also the ideal place to bid Bobby a final farewell.

After Mark’s younger brother passed away in June, his friend John graciously offered his northern property for an ash scattering ceremony.  You know you’re traveling to no man’s land when the directions are as simple as the site to which you are headed.  “Cross river, pass Sportsmen’s Club, left on unmarked gravel road, first green cabin.”  Now I’m a city girl if there ever was one, but this place devoid of the hustle and bustle of urban life truly was spectacular.  Serenity radiated from the natural beauty.  Hmmmm … maybe men and their yearly open-air sojourns are onto something.

The hunting and fishing camp was a step above rustic.  After all, as Lisa so profoundly noted, the outhouse was pretty pimped out! 

Bobby's carpentry skills had been put to good use in helping to construct the sleeping loft.  If only the walls could talk, I’m sure there would be great stories to hear. 

After other family and friends had arrived, we gathered at his favorite fishing spot.

Most of us had never scattered ashes before, but I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way to do it.  You just need to speak and feel from the heart.  John’s wife read an especially touching note, we released carnations and handfuls of Bobby’s ashes into the flowing waters of the Boardman River,

and the voice of Bob Seger reverberated from a boom box:

I’m tired of looking at the TV. news.

I’m tired of driving hard and paying dues.
I figure, baby, I got nothing to lose.
I’m tired of being blue.

K-k-k-k-k-Katmandu,

I think that’s where I’m going to.
If I ever get out of here,
I’m going to Katmandu.

We may have been winging it, but it was perfect.  Bobby is now peacefully swimming with the fishes.

Good Intentions

On my way home from the east side of the state last weekend I passed the most gorgeous field of sunflowers near Brighton.  I had my camera with me and woulda/coulda/shoulda got off at the very next exit, backtracked and found the road leading to those golden beauties.  But I didn’t and have been kicking myself ever since.  I’ve never really been a woulda/coulda/shoulda kind of girl.  I thought about hopping back on I-196 and again traveling eastbound, but I hoped instead to find something a bit closer to home this time around.  I remembered my friend Cherri telling me about a field just north of town which she spotted last summer and zapped her a quick email.  I knew there was a chance it didn’t exist this year since farmers often use sunflowers in crop rotation.  Sure enough, she relayed she had just traveled that way and didn’t recall seeing it again.  She did tell me, however, her co-worker had an acre of sunflowers in her front yard and wouldn’t mind if I stopped by to photograph them.  Score!

I swung by my folks’ house to say hello on my way out of town and discovered my sister and her boys visiting as well.  When I mentioned I was off to take pictures of sunflowers, Zhak piped up:

“I have a camera.  I want to go, too!”

My Mom shot me one of those, “It’s not a good idea” kind of looks, but I thought I’d give my sister a break for a few hours and offered to take him with me.  What could go wrong?  He did, after all, promise to be on his best behavior and follow the rules. Now I can just hear you laughing at the expectation I put in a rambunctious seven-year-old, but hey … I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout raisin’ young ’uns.

Despite the absence of maternal instinct, I DO know that kids have a short attention span.  Amazingly, though, I only heard one query of “Are we there yet?” during our half-hour journey.  This isn’t going to be so bad, I thought … or was it due to the fact his nose was buried in Harry Potter during the drive?

When we arrived I thought I’d see carefully cultivated towering stems, but instead found a field of wild dwarfs.  Not exactly what I expected, but that’s okay.  I had also been warned earlier in the week that I needed to act quickly as the flowers were beginning to fade.  I’m sure the torrential downpour we had the day before didn’t help.  They WERE past their prime and a bit droopy.  Ah well, we’d make it work and got out our cameras.

And then the dog appeared.  He was on an electric collar so I knew he couldn’t get too close, but Zhak’s all about man’s a boy’s best friend and ran up the driveway.  I told him he could snap one picture from afar.  Twelve photos and a whole lotta barking later, he was still pressing the shutter button.  I had to remind him we were there to take pictures of flowers and not a dog.  He begrudgingly returned his attention back to the field …

… until he saw all the bugs and was convinced he’d get stung by a bee.  It’s kind of hard to take pictures when you have a frightened child wrapped around your neck. 

He finally decided to wait in the car and, you guessed it, 2.7 seconds later loudly declared, “This is BORING!”  Ah ha … there’s that short attention span I was talking about!  Needless to say, this little venture rapidly came to an end.  I had to stifle a giggle on the way home when Zhak announced he wasn’t going on any more photoshoots with me.  At least we agreed on that!

I do love spending time with my nephew and do know things don’t always go quite as planned when kids are involved.  (It still baffles me how parents do it 24/7.)  All things considered, I managed a few not so great photos and once again came away with a story to tell.  Even so, I think next time we’ll stick with Chutes and Ladders.