Memory Lane - We Get Out Much, Part 2 (The Rrrrest of July 1987)

At the end of Part 1 of this double post the family had just completed a little R&R at Avon Rae cottage, recovering from a series of kid-focused, end-of-school-year outings. After a week or so of lounging on the beach, overeating and reveling in extended happy hours, we were ready for more adventure. So we headed east.

To this happy spot.

The overhead sign is a little hard to make out in this pic. It reads Story Book Gardens.

Story Book Gardens is a combination garden, zoo, playground and fairy tale theme park in London, Ontario. It's been around a long time. Nancy and her Canadian cousins went there as kids. From Christine's posture in the above pic she may well have been thinking "Oh no, another Deer Acres" (see previous post). But she soon learned better.

The first order of business was to rent a big shoe. You know, the kind you ride in. It was a crowd pleaser. 

The next step after the shoe rental was this touristy spot, for the required "I was really there" photo.

Put out by the fact that this attraction had cutouts for only two heads, Cathy stayed in the car shoe.

A little restless from the photoshoot, we took the kids to the playground area to burn off some energy. Ted and Christine jumped in with both feet. Literally. 

Eventually, they climbed their way out.

And up.

Cathy chose a less thrilling but safer form of recreation.

After all the excitement, we paused for a cold drink in a shady spot. Ted was behind the camera, having already chugged down his Mountain Dew.

Although the play areas dominated the visit, we did stop by a few animal friends. Here's Christine exchanging pleasantries with a bovine in residence.

And the kids and I once again gazing in awe at these peculiar creatures. 

Canadian flamingos. These pink beauties seem to be everywhere we go.

At the end of the day as we headed toward the exit, there was one more stop to make. And it was the highlight of the visit. 

We saddled-up.

We held on tight.

And eventually, rode into the sunset.

Or rather, out to the parking lot.

There was some disappointment that this didn't happen. Expectations are often a problem.

To move the kids past the crisis, we took a brief detour before returning to the cottage. All the way to Toronto.

We had seen our Canadian cousins recently at Avon Rae. But we were sort of in the neighborhood, so what the heck. It's always fun to see how the other half of the family lives, and to have an opportunity to catch up out of earshot of the senior generation. (Now that I'm a part of the senior generation, I'm fairly confident our kids feel the same way.)

We did stay long enough to take cousin Heather and our girls on a walk to the park.

Spot them on some high-brow exercise equipment.

And treat them and Ted to a combination fine-dining/menu-art outing. Heather and Ted are waiting for fresh crayons.

Having eaten and caught up on family business, and determined to not overstay our welcome, we headed back to the beach for another dose of R&R. 

One thing I'm constantly reminded of as I wade through these old pictures is just how the beach really changed over the years. I have this image of Avon Rae and Ipperwash Beach fixed in my mind from 30-plus years of visits. But I'm realizing it's not a particular memory. Rather, it's an overlay. A seamless blending of hundreds if not thousands of real images. 

I am very much enjoying my reacquaintance with those real images and associating them individually with their proper time in my memory. And appreciating the often subtle changes that occurred from year to year that I had forgotten or not even noticed at the time. 

Back to 1987. The second stop at Avon Rae this trip was every bit as relaxing as the first. And the weather was typically gorgeous. We dug in quickly as we knew we were going home in a few days. 

As noted earlier, we continued to do the same things on these recurring trips to our personal paradise but with slight variations. The kids grew more curious about their surroundings and how far they could push their limits. 

Nancy and I grew more aware of our own limits with her parents, as at that time Rae and Marge were retired and spent all summer at the cottage. They had their preferred ways of doing things. We were welcomed guests, but also intruders of a sort. At times, the distinction was subtle. But through reflection and well-timed beach walks, we managed. A second cocktail at happy hour was another valuable mood-management tool. 

A few pics from this second Avon Rae session of that summer. First, a reminder of what the beach looked like in 1987 with the lower lake level, new seawall and deluxe stairway. 

This picture is always striking to me as the beach did not have this look for long. As you will see a little further along my Memory Lane journey, the shifting sands and varying lake levels would reengineer this waterfront area dramatically.  

The kids, of course, didn't know from lake levels. It was all sand and surf to them. Dimensions didn't matter much. They returned to their usual play routine. First, lake time. 

Then afternoon quiet time for some.

For others, quiet time didn't quite ring the bell as well as trying to beat your best time down the patio block walkway in your bare feet. Who does this remind us of?

There was also some together time.

And some not-so-together time (out?)

There were old chores to perform.

And new chores to learn.

And at the end of each day, there was a classic cottage dinner. Spaghetti was a family favorite. Almost as much fun to watch as it was to eat.

And while the Burk family was living and playing and making themselves at home on foreign soil, our hosts - Rae and Marge - did their best to go about their business of retirement. I think that every once in a while they even got in some rest and relaxation.

Here's a shot of Nancy's mother Marge enjoying one of her favorite pastimes. My guess is there's an Italian tenor (and a couple of Spaniards?) at the pointy end of those earphones. Recognize the chair?

Nancy's dad took his pleasures differently. He liked to fix things and make general contributions to the common welfare. As we used to say, Rae had a loose foot. A classic example.

This picture tells a story. And not just the fact that we had a big dinner. It documents that Avon Rae at one time had a built-in dishwasher. It was installed in 1983 when the kitchen was expanded along with the pouring of the concrete porch.

It had been a tricky installation, something Rae's engineer's brain never shied away from. It involved smuggling Nancy's old portable dishwasher through the border, worrying it down the sloped patio blocks to the kitchen door, creating a space to house this avocado green beauty, and multiple trips to the hardware store for hoses, valves and other thingamabobs to connect it up to the well pump. My part in the adventure was driving the little brown pickup truck. 

The dishwasher was always a center of controversy. It made a horrible noise when it operated and required frequent maintenance. It was eventually retired when parts to keep it running could no longer be had. Still, while it lasted it was quite a coup for Rae after a generation of washing dishes for large crowds by hand. 

I often think about that little dishwasher when I find myself standing over a soiled stack of those very same Strawberry Fair dishes at Wiser Times. The more things change.... 

Our cottage visit having run its course, we headed over the Blue Water Bridge and down I-94 back home. We had one more July event ahead of us. Someone was turning two. A few pics.

Birthday dinner. Note how much neater two-year-olds are.

The cake. There's probably a story about the non-layered status of this (intended) layer cake, but I don't remember it at the moment.

The classic birthday group photo, party hats included.

And finally, Cathy's first independently successful extinguishing of a birthday cake candle. Literally a crowd pleaser.

The hullabaloo of the last few weeks behind us, Nancy and I returned to our respective working lives in the Patrick V. McNamara Building. She in her new-fangled role as an automation analyst. Keyboards and (truly) floppy disks.

And I back in the Special Procedures office. Note the index cards and yellow pad. This was two years before I was rescued by the Franklin system. We're still together.

This'll do it for this post and the July '87 adventures. Until next time.

Grosse Pointe Charles