2017 Part 6 - October

In my last post I covered the emotional events of September. October was somewhat lighter in mood, but it had its moments.

October 

The first Saturday of the month was the annual renewal of the Michigan-Michigan State football rivalry. Daughter Cathy and her husband Matt had tickets to the game, so Nancy and I had an Ian sitting gig. We saw it as an opportunity to introduce Ian to the family obsession with college football, and we made the most of it.

First we introduced him to the pre-game ritual of tailgating. Of course we had no actual tailgate, or charcoal grill, or dogs or burgers or barbecue of any kind. Nor any tubs or kegs of beer. But we made do with a little strained peas and a sippy cup of juice. I think he got the idea.

Then there was a briefing on the uneasy family doctrine of sports joint-partiality. That being that we encourage aggressive rooting for one's favorite team (State for Christine and me, the team-who-need-not-be-named-again for the rest of the clan) and discourage name-calling, taunting and unseemly gestures toward the hated respected rival. Here's a pic of Ian posing with the briefers (decked out in their official garb) immediately following the Q and A, which was surprisingly short.

By this point I'm pretty sure that Ian was sensing that this Saturday afternoon would be different from others. So I had a little private, totally impartial chat with him on how pretty grandpa's sweatshirt was.

I'm not sure what Ian did during the game, as I was a tad preoccupied with all the kicking, throwing, running, fumbling, bad-reffing and other hullabaloo taking place on TV. Understandable. But I was aware enough to witness this unfortunate post-game incident (that some busybody captured on film). Apparently an ardent but unidentified fan tried celebrating victory by sharing his hat. Sadly Gladly, Ian may have been expecting such a move and (needing to keep peace at home) did his best to thwart the caring but unthinking assailant. Smart kid.

But being mostly interested in the more important things in life, like a fresh sippy cup and a soft place to nap, Ian was easily consoled as shown in this after-glow pic. All-in-all, I think he enjoyed game day. Despite the outcome.

Fresh off our Ian sitting success, Nancy and I headed out for a couple of weeks for our traditional fall trip south to pretend it's still summer, and visit my mother in Zephyrhills. We found Mom as usual wrapped in a shawl, sitting in her rocker by the heater, watching Matlock reruns. Uh, no. That would be someone else's mother. My mother was doing this.

Yes, that's my 93 year-old mother in her backyard, whuppin' on some run-amok foliage with her weed whacker. After all, she had company coming. She was sprucing up the joint.

After chores we got her to sit down for a while, share a Corona Light, and play some Mexican Train. She still wields a mean domino.

In the middle of our Mom visit we ambled a bit farther down the state to catch up with our friends Robyn and Dave for a few days. We spent our time sitting in the sun, playing golf, eating with abandon (it's the normal nutritional diet that's abandoned), and occasionally enjoying processed grains (mostly rye).

Unfortunately, in the midst of all this merriment - the unthinkable happened. I discovered that I had left my day planner back in Zephyrhills. Yikes! How would I know what day it is or what I did last week or what I need to do this week? What would I review with my morning coffee? Where would I write down those important thoughts that always surface around the third Manhattan? Woe was me.

Ah, but then I remembered my emergency travel kit. You know, that bag with first aid supplies, extra AA batteries, flares, and one of those little steely things used to smash windows out and extricate yourself from a crushed car (yeah, I don't think so either). Well, in my emergency kit I keep blank day planner pages. You just can't be too careful.

So I located one of those blank pages and fashioned an emergency planning strategy that would help avoid panic during my painful Franklin separation. For those advanced day planner users among you, here's a copy of that planner page. It might give you hope in case you ever find yourself in a similar crisis.

Note the efficient use of space, and the personalized fitness codes and journal notes. What a life saver.

I know. My OCD is showing. But, hey. At least I'm not in denial. I think I'm somewhere between acceptance and total left-brain lock down. What's the old saying - "You can separate a boy from his planner, but if you do immediately go to threat level yellow (elevated)." Something like that.

But planneritis wasn't the only ailment that plagued the Burk family that week. Remember this shot from last March?

Yep. That's the 30' limb that fell on our family room roof just as we were trying to leave for our spring trip to Florida. Well, did you take note of that "house roof tree" entry above in my makeshift planner page? It's the seventh bullet under 10/18 notes, in the column on the right side of the page. Here's a couple of shots of what that note refers to.

One of our neighbors texted these pictures to us while we were lounging in Captiva. At first I thought it was an old text that had been in cyber limbo for months (or maybe stolen and recycled by some Russian hacker; it happens). But no. Lightning (or more appropriately tree "lightening") struck again. Another 30' limb had taken its leave from the maple tree growing out of our deck and soared ever so briefly toward Earth and on to our family room roof (a seemingly popular spot for arboreal suicides). Good grief. At least we knew who to call. The mess was handled nicely by our (now) regular tree guy before we returned to the fold. So all we have to remember the incident by are these photos. And a bill for tree cleanup that looks eerily like the one from last March.

I'm glad to say that the balance or our trip - the return to Zephyrhills, a buzz through Venice to check on a friend's condo, a stop in the mountains of Tennessee to visit more friends - all went smoothly and without incident. On the 25th we returned to home and hearth, which thanks to the magic of the Internet and local service providers looked just the way we had left it. Except for one thing. Remember these photos from a couple of posts ago?

That was when the neighbors started replacement of our old shrub with a cedar shadowbox fence. When we returned from our travels, the driveway area looked like this.

The fence was now complete including a new gate. No more hedge trimming and no more fiddling with the rusting, overstressed turnbuckle on the old gate, trying to keep it from sagging and scraping the drive. Kudos to our neighbor Martin and his handyman ways.

But there was little time to bask in the glow of our new "border wall" as that Saturday we were scheduled to host our Music Night group for our 130th collection - Science (known in our circles as "a brainer"). So after unpacking and a good night's rest, we started our party prep.

The gathering, much to my surprise, turned out to also be birthday party for the oldest among us.

I was overwhelmed by the group's thoughtfulness for the seniors in our little community. Attending this momentous occasion were the usual stalwarts and a few welcome surprises. There was my daughter Cathy and grandson Ian.

The Reinharts - Miranda, Justin, Jeff and Deandra - with Dave Dyle in the black top.

Son-in-law Matt and Linda Crandall in the foreground, with Laura Forest and Brian Bauer in the background.

Lydia Villeneuve and my daughter Christine.

Tom Yocky, in for the weekend from Chicago.

Tom's bride Kathi and Dave's bride Robyn.

Lydia's husband Joe.

And the couple that traveled the farthest, all the way from Austin, son Ted and his girl friend Summer.

Of course, can't forget my bride, hostess and chief conspirator of the event, here shown with the guest of honor and "Flat Stanley". Stanley was sort of a crasher. A paper man who came from Austin to the Pointes for a couple of weeks to visit as part of a school project of our grandson Cyrus.  I hope we got an A.

The party was grand, with lots of fine music and conversation. I received many nice "age-sensitive" congratulations and cards.

And two very special gifts. The first was a memory book with many touching photos and comments. I display it proudly in my lab, and browse through it often. Being something of a photo project buff myself, I very much appreciate the thoughtfulness and effort that goes into such an endearing creation. Many thanks to the contributors (and especially to the organizers).

The second gift was from someone missing from the party - Jim Wyatt. Unable to attend the evening due to a pressing engagement, and knowing my appreciation for verse, Jim composed a set of five sonnets describing, well....me, and his perspective on our times together. As a sonnet has 14 lines, five of them add up to - 70. Clever boy. A line for each year.

The poetry was crafted with skill and generosity. I thank you, Jimmy, for this heartfelt gift which now also resides in a special place in my lab. Below is an image of this work of art, offered here for those with excellent eyesight.

To cap off the gift, Jim presented it to me and performed a reading - by video. You gotta love a guy who plans ahead. Here are a couple of shots of this production. First the performer.

And the appreciative celebrants.

It was a grand evening, and I once again would like to thank all those who have made my 70 years one long, good time. My only wish is that we're all able to keep on keepin' on.

October for the Burks ended in its usual manner with a happy birthday celebration for Nancy. Yes, Paul McCartney was wafting in the background.

And halloween, which due to the lack of trick-or-treaters on our busy street, we traditionally spend a few blocks away at the Dyles', who live in the heart of Halloween central. There all the houses are decked out with ghouls and goblins, and there are hundreds of kids and dutiful parents cruising for candy.

In past Halloweens these get-togethers looked like this, just before heading out for a sackful of free goodies. Here are Christine in all her puppy-mask glory, Queen Cathy and Hershey bar Taryn.

In this pic we have Scott Dyle as a mime. Scary. And an unknown accomplice in the really scary mask. At first, I thought it was Cathy, but she says no. So our working theory is that it is a Dyle cousin - little Mike, son of Robyn's brother Mike. Let's go with that for now.

And a blended family shot with everyone getting into the act.

These days, things are a lot simpler. We visit the Dyles, Dave fixes the drinks, and we watch Christine staff the candy post (with assistance from Flat Stanley).

If the truth be known, in addition to drink duties Dave actually passes out most the candy as he gets the biggest kick out of the kids and the costumes. But don't tell him I told you.

To wrap up this hallowed month and All Hallows Eve, here's a glimpse into the future of two budding trick-or-treaters. Our Ian in his first Halloween costume.

And Toby Kim shown here with his mom, Taryn. Soon she may have her own little Hershey bar.

That's it for a memorable October. See you soon for the final chapter of 2017 in the Burk family.