(The park and marina, looking toward the former Socotra compound on the bluff in The Little Village By the Bay.) It is a global holiday dedicated to the glory of Labor. I am not sure what that is, precisely, except that when Caleb and I were sweeping out the garage attached to the main house […]

(Still life with ladies hats from the back downstairs bedroom amid innovative storage systems of several eras, both metal and plastic. Crap. Photo Socotra.) I agree with you- the episode yesterday was an uplifting prelude to the final send off. I felt good. the day was bright, though a cirrus clouds began to wave tendrils […]

(The door to the future, or at least one that is going to open soon. Photo Socotra.) The Bay is smooth as silk this morning, dead calm and glassy after the winds at the end of the week that stirred up whitecaps. It was a rising gale then, sort of like the storm I felt […]

(Second dumpster filled up by three pm. Photo Socotra). I had a chance to ponder many things after I got Spike to Pellston Regional airport for his (gulp) 0540 flight. They must originate the string-of-pearls routes here, places like Cheboygan and Alpeena being the next stops on the way to a great hub at Detroit […]

(The famous Dumpster, our ultimate friend. Photo Socotra)   I knew we were o trouble when the Dumpster was filled up by lunchtime. That put us behind on pace and into a frantic series of phone calls to the Little Traverse Dumpster Corporation.   Brenda said: “Residential? I can have a pickup next Wednesday.”   […]

(At some point, we found a box of Aunt Rhoda’s dress hats. Just the finishing touch for the well-dressed estate cleaner-outer. Photo Socotra.)   Well, it was a circus. Spike called to let me know that his airplane suffered a bird-strike on final into Alpena, and there was some controversy over whether the machine was […]

  (The Infiniti FX35 at rest in the Little Village by the Bay. Could it be the best cross-country ride ever? Photo Socotra.)   OK- a performance car review it is not what I intended this morning, but I have flogged a variety of cars across this eight hundred mile route, and I am impressed. […]

“In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours.“ ~Mark Twain I thought I got a memo about the end of winter. Big Pink’s Porter staff swept through the unit last week. They were checking the convectors in preparation for the cut-over from warm […]

(CAPT Ahab’s good ship Pequod. Painting by J Dillon). I have a lot of scrambling to do today to get on the road to the Little Village By the Bay. There is that book I am supposed to be editing, and now that the Annual Meeting of the Professionals is over, I am on the […]

(Mac holds the newspaper with his story in The Community Section. Photo Socotra.) I am sitting here at the breakfast table in Big Pink, looking out over the pool and the Culpeper Gardens Assisted Living Facility. The eight-story building with the exposed concrete beams serves as a red brick metaphor to my mornings as the […]