Tulip Time

If you want to see flowers, you can't go wrong in Holland, Michigan during Tulip Time. Every year the city blooms with flowers from over 300,000 tulip bulbs which are planted in anticipation of their annual festival.

Although my mom's family was from Holland and she often spent summers there as a girl, I had never visited during Tulip Time. This year the Great Lakers Chapter of RVing Women was attending the festival, so I jumped at the chance to join in on the fun. We stayed at the pleasant and convenient Dutch Treat Campground in Zeeland, just a short drive from the sights.

At Veldheer's Tulip Farm, our first stop, we visited their gardens and wandered about their fields of flowers. I didn't see anyone tiptoeing through the tulips but there were a lot of people taking pictures and jotting down information about the bulbs they wanted to buy when they visited Veldheer's store. I was able to resist the tulip bulb and klompen (wooden shoe) buying opportunity, but broke down when offered cookie samples in the gift shop. I came home with banket (an almond-paste filled pastry), chocolate-dipped shortbread and my childhood favorite, windmill cookies.

After the farm, we went downtown where the flower-filled parks and streets were full of activity. The costumed dancers, crafters, trolleys, tourists and volunteers provided plenty of opportunities for entertainment and people watching.

www.rvingwomen.org

www.holland.org

www.dutchtreatcamping.com

www.veldheer.com

A Mother's Day Bouquet

Now, for everyone who has grown tired of hearing me rant about bad weather and other gloomy things, a change of pace...flower pictures! When you see my next post you'll really know what I'm talking about. Until then, the late arrival of spring nicely coincides with Mother's Day, so I'd like to dedicate this flowery page to my mother and all of the other mothers out there.

Happy Mother's Day!

The High Line

I took a quick trip to New York over the weekend to help a friend move. While there I had a chance to explore one of the items on my NYC to do list: The High Line. The High Line was originally built in the 1930's to raise freight trains off of the streets of Manhattan. As the growth of interstate trucking grew, rail traffic declined. The last train to travel on the High Line carried a load of frozen turkeys, in 1980.

After the High Line was abandoned by trains, nature started taking over, self-seeding itself with native plants along the unused rail tracks. When the High Line was threatened with demolition by land developers, local residents challenged the demolition in court. Ultimately, a mile and a half section was saved and is in the process of being converted to an elevated public park. The park, which runs through the West Side neighborhoods of the Meatpacking District, West Chelsea and Hell's Kitchen, features gardens which include many native species, similar to the wild "volunteer" plants which originally grew on the track. You'll also find wheel chair accessible paths, water features, viewing platforms, sundecks, gathering areas and local art displays, as well as great views of the city streets below and the Hudson River.

I found it to be the perfect place for "people watching" and the best location I've found in the city where I can pull out my camera without looking like a complete tourist.

Goofing Off

I gave myself permission not to work for four days this week. I had two excuses: visitors and hockey. My sister and her family went down to Austin and San Antonio for spring break, leaving their dog, Clark, with me. They're down there lazing around the pool and complaining about how hot it is, while I'm trying to convince a stubborn schnauzer that he really can go outside in the sleet without a guide (meaning me). I'm really not complaining; he's a great dog, but after having a fourteen-year-old geriatric dog around, it takes a while to get used to a four-year-old youngster.

My son, Dan, also came to visit from NYC. I saw him a few months ago on his turf, but my parents haven't seen him for a while; we were all glad to have him around. I love my dad, but after having a eighty-year-old man around all the time, it was nice to have a visit from a twenty-seven-year-old youngster. If either Dan or my dad read this, I'll probably be in trouble.

After Dan and Clark returned to their homes, I still had hockey as an excuse not to work. After chocolate, Red Wings hockey is my biggest vice. I can keep my hockey obsession under control during the regular season, but when it's playoff time I have to watch every game, no matter what time the game is broadcast or what time-zone the game is played in. I'm an early riser, so games on the West Coast really give me trouble. I could barely function when the games used to go into double and triple overtime. Now, I just stay up way past my bedtime and am foggy and grumpy in the morning, though most people don't even notice since I tend to be foggy and grumpy all of the time. Go Wings!

A Rude Awakening

I woke this morning to the complaints of a frustrated robin wanting his morning bath, but finding his pond frozen. His favorite breakfast spot was also closed, due to almost two inches of fresh snow. One of my squirrel friends gave me a look as if to say, Here we go again!

I also wasn't especially thrilled about having to go out to the garage to dig my snow shovel out of storage again. If I have to use it in May, I'm moving to Texas.

Goodbye To A Friend

Elliott Beagle was a good dog. He was close to fourteen years old when he died of lung cancer. Elliott never met a meal he didn't like, a neighborhood dog he didn't greet, or a person he didn't make friends with. He was famous for being one of the few dogs to create a non-aggression pact with the squirrel kingdom.

Elliott had three previous owners whom I know of and he came to me with multiple "issues". He wasn't my best dog, but, he was my favorite dog. He was a good friend and will be missed.

He's pushing up daisies now (actually, tulips). I buried him in my flower bed near the fence where he used to bark at passing dogs. Just a few weeks ago he was barking at a woman who was walking with her little toddler. I apologized to her, saying I couldn't understand why Elliott was barking at them since he only barks at dogs. She said it was their fault, since her little daughter was walking down the sidewalk barking at every dog she saw.

If there is any kind of doggie heaven, I expect Elliott's up there playing tag with his friends Shadow, Cheyenne and Chester. I'm going to miss him.

Wild Nights

I've been wandering about after dark lately, looking and listening for some wild night life. I haven't been in the bars or clubs, I've been hanging around the swamps and marshes. I walk a bit then stop and listen for the sounds of frogs and toads calling for mates. That's right, I'm searching for amphibian sex.

I'm a member of the Friends of the Rouge and am a volunteer frog and toad surveyor. I live in the Rouge River watershed, which drains into the Detroit River, then the Great Lakes, the St. Lawrence Seaway and finally the Atlantic Ocean. Frogs and toads are sensitive to pollutants and other environmental changes on the land and in the water, so changes in their population can be used as an indicator of the health of a body of water. I go out at least once a week to my assigned section of land and listen for frog and toad songs. Like birds, male toads and frogs call to attract their mates and to mark their territory. The reason volunteers go out at night is because frog and toad calls can sound similar to birds songs but, birds usually don't sing at night.

I've gone to bed every night for the last month listening to a cd of the calls of the frogs and toads that live in the Rouge River watershed. I'm pretty confident that I can identify each frog or toad by its call, but just in case, I've downloaded their calls to my iPod so I can double check when I'm sitting by my swamp.

If you want to listen to their calls or see pictures of the frogs and toads, check out their website at www.therouge.org .