Memory Lane - A Family Affair (July 1988)

In July of 1988 we had perhaps the most memorable extended family vacation at our Canadian cottage ever, in the 10-day period from the 4th of July to Cathy's third birthday on July 14th. Ten perfect weather days on Ipperwash Beach. Three generations of Nancy' family spread across two cottages - her parents Rae and Marge, her Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Ken, Nancy and I and three kids, her brother Dave and his bride Barbara and two kids, and cousins Lynne and Ann with their families (I'm lumping first cousins, second cousins, first cousins once removed and shirt-tail cousins all into the term cousins, just to be clear). Nineteen in all. Half American, half Canadian. A true International Freedom Week. The best way to tell this story is in pictures. So here's a bunch.

When you hear the term sand play, the first thing you think of is something like this, right?

A bunch of kids with pails and shovels creating a sand castle complete with moat. In this case the kids from left to right in reference to Nancy's relationships are cousin Heather, nephew Matt, son Ted, and nephew Brian. The big kid supervising the dig is cousin Tom.

While this crew was literally knee-deep in construction, Cathy opted for more independent projects. Here she's attempting to relocate the lake, one bucket at a time.

In this pic she's demonstrating the inverted-shovel grip, critical to smoothing out the bottom of one's trench.  

Christine had broken ground on her own trench and was progressing nicely.

But she made the mistake of putting too much thought into it. Before long she was caught in a creative dilemma. To trench, or not to trench? How deep? Is there nothing more? In a way, I think she's still working it out.

But sand play is not only for the youngest generation. Those urges to unwind at the water's edge, wiggle your toes into the sand and put your brain in park stay with you. Whether it be to catch a few rays like in this shot of (primarily) the middle generation (Ken, Lynne, Barb and Dave).

Or to huddle up and share family news (Lynne and Nancy, with a curious Andrew trying to keep up).

Even those of the senior generation fall prey to the lure of idling on the beach. Here's a shot of Nancy's parents Rae and Marge catching up on beach goings-on with their long-standing neighbor Dotty C. I have to admit they're usually better dressed than the rest of us.

Fun in the sand almost always leads to getting wet. For the vigorous among us that often meant launching something from Avon Rae's modest but quite seaworthy fleet. 

On the left with the blue and white sail is the Bay Viewer, the senior member of the group having been acquired when Nancy was a teenager. It was known as the Blandmerck, a combination of the first letters of the names of the senior and middle generations - Barb-Lynne-Ann-Nancy-Dave-Marge-Evelyn-Rae-Chuck-Ken. Originally named the Landmerk, the family was generous enough to add Barb and me to the acronym when we married into the family. 

The other two boats, shown closer up below, were Rae's Wayfarer (front) and Dave's Laser.

Rae and Dave were both avid sailors. Dave would zoom around the cove in his laser between Kettle Point to the south and Stony Point to the north, often participating in local holiday races. 

Rae's story is somewhat different. Rae had crewed on Mackinaw-race caliber sailboats in his youth and never lost the bug. The wayfarer was a late-in-life purchase intended to provide leisure sailing outings around the cove. But it was a lot of boat. When the lake levels lowered in the late '80s, it became difficult to launch. At one time there was about 80 feet of sand between the boat's storage spot and the water's edge. Even with a steel cable winch and large inflatable rollers, it took three of us to do the job. 

But though the ordeal of the launch certainly reduced Rae's sailing time over the years, there was a silver lining to this dilemma. Being an engineer, Rae was intrigued by the problem. He spent many hours contemplating various solutions. He enjoyed explaining his latest plans, which he did often over evening cocktails. Though he never came up with a winning solution, owning and fussing over that boat was a source of joy for him. He got his money's worth.

There was one other boat I should mention. Mine.  

Yeah. The one in the middle. No wind required.

Then there were those times when people just got right down in the water. Lake Huron is normally cold. Not Lake Superior cold, but cold. Except where the water is shallow and the sun is shining. That's how it was right in front of the cottage most of the time. A long and wide sandbar kept the water close to shore warm.

Here Uncle Ken is chaperoning a group of beginners. A creature of habit, Ken was famous for his 4:00 pre-happy hour swims. He often drew a crowd. 

As often as not, the kids would accentuate their lake experience with specialized, high-tech devices. 

Which I'm sorry to say weren't always used properly.

Fortunately there were no injuries sustained in the above incident. 

Fueling all of this fun and frivolity was a time-tested meal and beverage plan. The two branches of the family routinely managed their breakfasts and dinners on their own in their respective cottages. Lunches broke out spontaneously wherever and whenever they could and often involved diners from both sides of the family. 

One of my strongest memories of meal times at Avon Rae was the not-so-sturdy gray bench. This family heirloom was seldom seen (I have no pictures of it from 1988) but in use constantly. The bench was a 1x10 wooden plank to which shorter pieces of 1x10  had been added to each end to serve as legs. It was held together mostly by periodic coats of heavy enamel paint. Adults sat on it at the peril. 

There were a few cracks in the top plank, evidence of those few times more than one adult tried to sit on it at the same time. But the kids loved it. The cottage had a large oak dining table indoors and a seven foot table on the screen porch made from an old door shutter. The bench traveled between the two locations as dictated by the weather. Here are a few typical shots, all of which feature the unseen bench (which I would like to mention was rescued from Avon Rae in 2005, with the shutter table, taken to Wiser Times and refurbed; both remain in use today). 

First one of Cathy excited to finally be big enough to join the bench club.

Here Ted, Matt, Christine and Cathy are deep in lunch conversation. There's actually three conversations in progress. The boys with each other, the girls with themselves.

In the following photos the three girls - Christine, Cathy and cousin Heather - are displaying typical meal time behavior. Coaxing Cathy into the clean-plate club.

Heather helping Cathy with her table decorum.

And Christine and Heather enjoying Cathy's nap time.

If you look closely at the paper plates in these photos, it could appear that they were all taken at the same meal. But no. Some of the outfits are different (mostly swim suits). I'm afraid that hotdogs with macaroni and cheese were pretty frequent kid menu items.

Between meals, the kids would sometimes come in for a snack of - you guessed it - macaroni and cheese.

And not infrequently adult beverages appeared. Sometimes with special equipment.

But the major component of the beverage program was happy hour. Much like I've described in previous posts, but with just a little more pizzazz. The happy hours were joint and rotated between the cottages. 

They usually started like this.

Two able-bodied Canadians pouring out full-bodied Canadian whiskey (Wiser's, of course). This particular scene took place at Reedholme, the cottage two doors down. Cousin Tom and Uncle Ken are doing the honors. 

Like Avon Rae, Reedholme had a very large screened porch overlooking the lake. A perfect venue for sun-baked vacationers to relive the adventures of the day, over ice. It was also the setting for some noteworthy photos, like this one of the second cousins. They were usually well-behaved for fear of being dismissed and deprived of happy hour munchies.  

And this shot of Christine, Cathy and Nancy sitting in classic wicker rockers. We call this shot "The Girls". There's a blowup of it in our upstairs hallway.

Following happy hours the families would retreat to their respective vacation homes for dinner. But the buzz from the party usually survived until early evening when we often reassembled for a hot game of Yahtzee.

Or for the seriously competitive, Trivial Pursuit.

Complimenting the steady flow of activities each day, from big breakfasts to the beach and the lake to the extended social hours, were the most special times of all - those quiet, personal moments when we could mentally retreat to reflect on our good fortune and just enjoy the peaceful surroundings. We each spent those moments in our own way. It could just be catching a few rays.

Drifting away with your boom box and a good book.

Skipping stones.

Or catching up on your favorite magazine.

A post-dinner family walk on the beach was popular.

As was hanging with the locals.

Or maybe just chilling on the beach with a cup of coffee and a good buddy, remembering how many times over the years you have done the very same thing.

Finally, what would a vacation at the lake be without a birthday party. This marathon visit to Avon Rae ended with Cathy's third. We had the usual fanfare of cake and ice cream and gifts and came away with a couple of our favorite birthday pics. Happy kids.

As I close this post about the cottage vacation that set the standard for all that followed, I think it's appropriate to offer a final reminder of what Avon Rae and the beach looked like in the summer of 1988. 

We would make memories here for another 16 summers. 

Until next time,

Grosse Pointe Charles