Memory Lane - Widening the Groove (January to May 1987)

I have in previous posts likened our family timeline to a groove, cruising along smoothly within comfortable boundaries, confident as to where we were headed. I've also noted certain occasions when the groove has altered. Not so drastically as to jump the track, but enough to accommodate new experiences. 1987 was one of those times.

The year began innocently enough. It was a fairly quiet winter. No extraordinary weather or family incidents. Just the usual. There was the typical post-holiday emphasis on fitness, with some high-tech equipment.

Some experimentation with behavior-management innovations.

Adoption of the winter wardrobe.

There was also a little team muckling.

And work on language skills.

On the creative side, there was mechanical engineering (left-brained).

And what appears to be a fantasy sleepover (right-brained).

Then there was this incident of exploratory interior design (hare-brained), which no doubt occurred during a period of DLS (dad-level-supervision).

And as would be expected of well-bred offspring, the winter months were marked by (largely) commendable sibling camaraderie.

April brought a little more excitement. We took an atypical early daytrip to Ipperwash Beach to check out the cottage. We had heard there had been some changes.

A little background. Through the mid-80s the Lake Huron water level was pretty high. You can see from this pic from '84 that the water's edge was only about 10 to 12 feet from the snow fence. 

And in this pic from '85 you can see that it wasn't that far past the snow fence to the cottage. Maybe 40 feet and about 8 feet of elevation. Way too close for comfort if the lake rose any more or serious storms came along.

To address this concern, in the fall of '86 cottagers along this strip of Ipperwash Beach decided to build seawalls. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

But as fate would have it, or maybe out of sheer meanness, by the spring of '87 the lake levels had gone down. Way down. So far down that the seawalls were probably not needed. Oh well.

When we arrived at the cottage for our visit, this is what we found. We were stunned.

Nancy's parents and the neighbors to the east had built seawalls out of large concrete blocks and vertical poured concrete. The family to the west had built a different style of barrier out of poured concrete set at a 45 degree angle. Clever.

Here are a few more shots of the new look. In this next one you can see the steps that were built into the slanted barrier.

And here's a close up of the large block/poured wall construction. Note how high Avon Rae cottage is above the beach compared to the shots from the previous years. In the coming years the shoreline and beach would change on a regular basis. But never again so dramatic as from '86 to '87. 

After overcoming our shock, we had fun that day exploring the new and very wide beach. 

Note the sand and snow mound about 50 feet offshore in the first two pics. This is a typical spring phenomenon due to constant winds and a shallow lake bottom, but it always looks weird to me. As the winter ice breaks up, it rolls over on itself toward shore, pushing sand ahead of it and creating the mound. It's typically gone by early-May.

Before we headed back to the Pointes we treated ourselves to lunch on the old wooden picnic table at the rear of the cottage. This old soldier was a salvage, having washed up on the beach in pieces several years earlier. Nancy's father Rae cobbled it back to life and put it in service. 

The table long ago moved on to another post. Either that or it gave all to a beach fire. Can't remember which. But I remember it fondly.

Recovered from our international travel, we jumped into May. We started with a trip to the Detroit Zoo. From the pics I found it looks like I took Ted and Christine while Nancy and Cathy partied elsewhere. As you can tell from these first two pics, the kids were pretty excited.

But after visiting some old friends, 

They got into the swing of things.

The chauffeur service helped with the attitude. As did snack time.

We stopped by to see many other friends during the day, too numerous to mention. Except for these interesting creatures that are family favorites. They always seem happy and ready to party. Despite the fact that their knees are on backwards.

Our next adventure was a trip to Linwood to visit my parents. There was the usual reacquaintance with old friends.

And then there was this.

Ted was in his Little League period. So we went with the flow. Here we are squeezed into the crowded Little League stadium (Nancy and Cathy in red). Not exactly box seats.

And a shot of Ted in his station in right field, ready for action.

Actually, it looks like he's tucking in his shirt. It's important to look good when in uniform.

Ted's Little League years were important to him and in the end to his parents. When he was little, Ted liked to win. In everything. Occasionally, he liked to win a little too much. There are stories.

When Ted started Little League, his teams were very successful. If I'm remembering correctly, his team won a championship or two. But in his last year of eligibility, his team wasn't so good. In fact, I think they lost most of their games. By then he was 12, and had matured. He seemed to enjoy his roles (outfield and a little pitching) despite the team's record. The winning thing had become less important.

Back from Linwood, we had a week or two to recharge before heading up to Avon Rae for the holiday. In those days Rae and Marge moved into the cottage for the summer on Memorial Day weekend. It was an opportunity for us to help with opening chores (the cottage having been closed up for the winter) and to get a first taste of summer. A few pics. 

By 1987 Ted and Christine were old cottage hands. Christine was almost always first into the lake. She never seem to mind the cold water. Even in chilly May.

Impressively, she has maintained her disrespect for cold water. There are still days at Wiser Times when Christine will go swimming when the rest of us won't even kayak.

Ted, fresh from his Little League season, liked to work on his swing wherever he could. He was a fierce whiffle baller.

Cathy, now navigating the beach on her own, was just developing her sand-castle skills.  

It takes a while to figure out just the right sand-to-water ratio for this ancient artform.

Fortunately, there were usually experienced collaborators around to offer advice.

The weekend turned out to be very enjoyable and whetted our appetite for summer even more. 

This brings us to the end of May and of this post. While our groove had begun to widen during the spring of 1987 with a couple of new experiences, the pace would quicken over the summer months. And that's where we'll resume next time.

Grosse Pointe Charles 

Memory Lane - Holidays in the Pointes (October to December 1986)

I closed my last post lamenting my lack of pictures of our September '86 move to Grosse Pointe. Apparently, the mysterious forces behind that photographic lapse weren't easily overcome. It would be mid-October before our photo history would resume with these few shots taken during my parents first visit to our new house.

Here Cathy is entertaining Grandpa Burk in the new family room, telling him all about her new world. The little black dog in my father's lap is BB (short for Black Beauty, a pure-bred toy poodle who brought joy to my parents' lives for 17 years).

In this next shot I appear to be sharing something interesting with Ted and Cathy. Not sure what. Maybe a list of dos and don'ts for proper behavior in the new house. Based on the firm grip Cathy has on the arm of the sofa, I believe she was in her "furniture cruising" stage. 

As a septuagenarian, I've found those old cruising skills have returned. Especially when navigating a room strewn with dog toys and Nylabones the same color as the carpet.   

Here Christine is cruising through the new neighborhood in her own way - Dad-powered kid limo.

Halloween brought the camera out again for these classic shots. First our little pumpkin in an encore appearance of her '85 costume. Hey, stay with a winner.

The school parade was always a crowd pleaser, for parents as well as the kids. Sort of a dress(up) rehearsal for the big event.

Things picked up a little more in November as family members settled into their new routines. Cathy worked on her farm animal recognition and kiddy-car parking skills.

Christine waded knee-deep into her Speak and Spell, an early version of a talking interactive learning toy. A little person inside tells you if you spell something right. At least that's what we told our curious kindergartener.

The Speak and Spell and its more advanced partner Speak and Read are both still alive and waiting in the kid's toy box for the next generation. 

I, too, was adjusting to my new routine of commuting to work from the east side of the city. I was conflicted. Should I jump on I-94 and join the morning rush? That way takes about 20 minutes (to go 13 miles). Also, a lot of braking and honking are involved.

Or, should I cruise (there's that word again) along Lake Shore Drive and Jefferson Avenue, taking in the ambiance of stately mansions, the Belle Isle vista and a host of riverfront high rises. Also, some urban renewal zones, stinky buses and 21 traffic lights. That route takes 30 minutes (to go 12 miles).

In this shot Christine and I, dressed for school and work respectively, are discussing the commuting dilemma.  

Thinking back, I remember many times not deciding which way to go until I reached the end of my driveway. Left to I-94 and the stress of the freeway, or right to Lakeshore Drive and the stress of maybe being late? In the end, over the 25 years I commuted from 651 Vernier to downtown Detroit, I think it was about 50-50.

This next shot is a family classic. As Christy was attending Ferry school and adapting to a new world of structure, Cathy was doing this. Structure was not involved. Early on she was definitely into "everything everywhere all at once".

In the '80s, a fashionable approach to child-rearing was environmental control. Rather than teach (read discipline) our little darlings not to go places or touch things that they shouldn't, we physically modified our living areas so they couldn't. Baby gates, cupboard locks, electrical outlet covers, child-proof bottle caps, and more. Failure to take such measures could easily brand you as an irresponsible parent.

The picture above is an example of this philosophy. Note the height of the crib mattress above the floor. It's 14 inches. I know that because that's where I drilled the extra holes in the head and foot boards to lower the mattress. It was the only way we could keep Cathy from climbing out of her crib. 

Before I lowered the mattress she was quite adept at climbing up on whatever was in her crib and vaulting herself over the rail for the roughly four-foot fall to the carpet, and freedom. We weren't too fond of that move even though it did indicate an early spark of ingenuity and determination. 

We hosted family Thanksgiving that year, happy to show off our new digs. The pictures didn't turn out that well. Thankfully, the turkey did. Here's a shot of the adults - from left to right Nancy's brother Dave and his bride Barbara, yours truly in a Norman Rockwell moment, and Nancy's parents Rae and Marge. That's Nancy behind the camera.

It was the first service of our kitchen snack counter as the kid's table. Left to right are nephews Brian and Matt with daughter Christine. Definitely a rose between two thorns.

At (or rather in) the kid's-table annex was our other rose, Miss Cathy. She seems to be participating fully in the holiday conversation. Either that or she's unhappy with the wait staff. 

With the first formal event of the holiday season in the books, the family continued to adjust to our new life. There was the new house thing, sure. But of more interest were the girls. Christy adapting to a her formal schooling, and Cathy blossoming under the loving care of her parents.

So, how do I explain this?

Or this.

Or worst of all, this.

The answer is obvious. Even the most rigorous home child-proofing cannot overcome DLS (dad-level supervision). On the bright side, it's very possible that children learn important survival skills while in the care of their fathers. On behalf of fathers everywhere, that's our story and we're sticking to it.

Early December passed pretty quickly into the dreaded decorating period. I previously documented my feelings about the holiday season in a three-part post starting in January of 2019 (The Launch). 2018 had ended with a rather arduous couple of months, and I took my weariness out on my readers. 

1986 was much more relaxed. It all happened slowly. But even then I could sense where our family holiday routine was headed. It all starts with this. Ground zero for Santa.

Next we moved to assembly of our artificial tree. We had real trees the first couple of years in Dearborn, but gave up on that adventure when I realized I had developed an allergy to pine needles. 

The newest member of the family was quite taken with the whole idea of a tree inside the house.

Taken, yes. Helpful, no. She spent most of the tree-raising time playing among the unassembled components. But, still pretty cute. Or should I say - impish.

We each had our role to play in this annual ordeal tradition. I fulfilled mine with typical panache. 

Actually, my primary role then as it is now was to pull all of the holiday paraphernalia from its hiding place and distribute it to its designated locations. In 1986 all our stuff was wedged into an attic storage area that I had to crawl into. The process involved a lot of head bumping and knee scraping and then wrestling a mishmash of boxes and bags down a flight of stairs. 

I'm not sure if the above picture is of me steeling my nerves for the task or soothing my wounds from the task. I don't see any band aids or ice packs so I would assume this was before. The good news is that after the 2018 debacle (described in the previously mentioned posts), we relocated all of the holiday decorations to a closet on the main floor. Way better. Duh.

The fact that Christine had started school with Cathy soon to follow also meant that our family was about to embark on that (at least) 16-year journey of parent-teacher conferences, school concerts and plays, and other social events. First up - a local ritual called "Breakfast with Santa". It involved taking the kids to a pancake breakfast at the elementary school after which everyone stands in line to see Santa. Fun. A couple of pics. 

First, the line for pancakes. This may have been Cathy's first experience in a crowd. She took it all in quietly, with wide-eyed interest. 

Christine on the other hand was into it, giving Santa a thorough briefing on her Christmas needs.

In this final pic from the pre-Christmas period, Christine is gleefully dancing to holiday music fully immersed in the moment. I on the other hand (the red lump on the sofa) appear to be sleeping it all off.

The weekend before Christmas we journeyed north to Linwood to hang with my parents. My brother Jeff was also there with his family. Holiday visits with Wendell and Dolores were always quite informal. A few beers, some friendly cribbage, and usually a family board game around the kitchen table. A few pics. 

First, some pre-activity quiet time. In the foreground niece Dee Dee is playing with the small stash of toys my parents maintained for just such occasions. Behind her Ted is getting mentally prepared for the competition to come. 

Here my brother Jeff is explaining the rules of a game we are about to play to Cathy. Dee Dee is following along to make sure her dad gets it right.

In this shot the game is afoot. Fully engaged from left to right are Ted, yours truly, Christine and Nancy.

I can't remember what we were playing. I remember the green spinning wheel in the left foreground, but not the name of the game. Maybe Christine or Cathy will help us out here.

In this final shot from that evening, it looks like one of us had done better than the other.

Back home, the big day was finally here. Our first Christmas in our forever home. It was a good one. Cathy was now old enough to mostly get what was going on, and Ted was still young enough to fully embrace the magical side of the day. Christine was in her Christmas prime (and for the record has never left it).

Here's a shot of the night before. Our first Christmas with a proper place to hang stockings. The little one was busy dreaming of sugar plums. 

Of course, Santa's helper had a few last minute assignments. Our Schnauzer-mix Heidi is standing guard.

And, Voila! Two months of planning, decorating, shopping, wrapping, hiding surprises and waiting is finally over. Now if the kids will just forget what day it is tomorrow and sleep in. Yah, right.

They didn't forget. But, they waited until a respectful 7:30 which became our Christmas morning tradition. Here are the kids in the required group picture before the fun begins.

What ensued was an extended session of unwrapping, enjoying and appreciating a generous collection of gifts. Here are a few highlights.

What's better than a new dress for a budding fashionista.

Or Metroplex for a transformer aficionado.

Or a Cabbage Patch kid for a new mama.

For Mom it was the thrill of having your kids sharing in your own excitement.

And as usual, Dad was ecstatic to receive something he could put together. Excellent.

At the end of the revelry, the living room looked like this. 

The dog and maybe Cathy are in there somewhere, I think. And I'm pretty sure there was a little pick-me-up in my eggnog as I contemplated where to begin with the cleanup.

By 1:00 we had recovered sufficiently to get dressed, pile into the car and head off to Ann Arbor to celebrate with Nancy's side of the family. A few pics.

First, a gathering around the tree to catch up and share our Christmas stories. One of us had received a football uniform. Guess who.

We then moved to the main event - Christmas dinner. It was an impressive kids' table with Ted, Brian, Matt (still in uniform) and Christine with her back to the camera. Not sure where Cathy was during the photo op. Maybe napping, not quite recovered from the morning's activity?

 

And the adult table, with the usual players - Nancy, brother Dave, hostess Barb, and Nancy's parents Rae and Marge. It was a thoroughly enjoyable finale to our Christmas festivities. 

Pretty much partied out, we made our way back home and settled in for the holiday week. The pace of life slowed dramatically as indicated by these final pics of 1986. We adults worked on tidying up and incorporating our new stuff into our household,  

Meanwhile, the kids enjoyed a slightly less-attentive level of supervision. 

We did feed them and made sure they were in the house. But mostly we let them work on those independent survival skills mentioned above. 

This last pic sums up our family mood as 1986 came to a close - life was good. 

On to 1987.

Grosse Pointe Charles