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Happy birthday!
Jun. 20th, 2016 10:29 amHappy birthday to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seekerval -- hope it's a good one!
seekerval -- hope it's a good one!Jun. 20th, 2016
From 1966 to 1973, most years I went to YWCA Camp Newaygo (in Newaygo, MI; thus the name) during the month of August. It was an all-girls camp, not at all fancy, but I learned camping and swimming and a bit of horseback riding there. It also had its own traditions and songs, and I loved going there. For complicated reasons, I never worked there as a counselor, which is something I regret.
The camp went through some difficult years in the 1990s, and the YWCA almost sold the site to a land developer. The story goes that the bulldozers were in place as the reprieve occurred, but I don't know if a story improvement loan was invoked for that. In any case, a consortium bought the camp, and it's now part of a nonprofit called True North. There was recently another major land purchase, and the camp now owns a mile of waterfront, and is thriving.
There's an alumnae reunion every five years, which unfortunately always seems to conflict with Fourth Street. I was at the reunion in 2006, but missed the last one. This one I decided to attend, though I was sorry to miss Fourth Street.
I flew into the Muskegon airport, which I'd never known existed before this, but turned out to be more convenient than the Grand Rapids one, and got a ride to camp with one of the camp staff. I appreciated that, since otherwise I would have had to rent a car.
When I was there in 2006, there was the start of a major capital campaign to renovate and add on to the lodge. I wasn't there in 2009 for the grand opening of said lodge, so this was the first time I'd seen it. It used to just be a big assembly room and dining room, with some basement areas for storage and miscellaneous use. (I remember learning table tennis in that basement.) Now the basement is a ground floor -- the hill it was on was dug out -- and there are several dorms, plus bathroom and shower facilities.
The weekend was jam-packed with activities, starting of with a canoe/kayak/tubing trip on the Muskegon River (I canoed), lots of singing, zipping on the three new ziplines, a wetlands trail walk (built over a sphagnum bog; there's a portion where you can see the 50-foot pole emerging unoxidized from the muck), water sports, and a trip to see the new properties.
It was great to see some old friends the years I attended, and see that some old traditions remain and some new ones have been established. I noticed that some of the camp songs had been visited by the folk tradition. Some had new words, and a lot of them had actions to go with them that had never existed in my time.
And then, sadly, things ended after lunch on Sunday, and I got a ride back to the airport from someone driving in that direction. My plane didn't leave until 6:20, so there were several hours sitting around at the airport. There was one other person there, and I later saw him stretched out sleeping on the floor. I was tempted, but didn't follow suit. Muskegon to ORD was a short hop, then I had another hour and a half to wait at ORD. That flight was full, and I took a bump to the 10:30 flight in exchange for a travel voucher.
I finally got home shortly before 1 am. Morwen immediately showed up demanding food. I'd left food for her on Friday, but it was probably long gone by the time I got home. So I fed her, and brought the suitcase toward the bedroom to extract whatever was necessary so I could go to bed.
And here's where the icon for this post comes into play. Normally I use the kitten-with-mouse icon for life's minor annoyances. This time, I'm literalizing the metaphor. As I walked into my bedroom, I saw something on the floor. At a second look, it was a nice, plump mouse. I shrieked. I didn't mean to; it was totally involuntary. At a third look, it was also very dead. No marks, no blood, but also no movement. I went into the kitchen to get some paper towels, and told Morwen (who was still chomping away) that she was a mighty hunter, though of course I have only inferential evidence that she was responsible for the corpse. I gathered it up in the paper towels and took it outside to the garbage can.
In the 14 years I've been living in this house, I'd never seen a mouse until now. I guess a dead mouse is better than a live one, but I hope one dead mouse doesn't mean a colony of live ones I don't know about.
The camp went through some difficult years in the 1990s, and the YWCA almost sold the site to a land developer. The story goes that the bulldozers were in place as the reprieve occurred, but I don't know if a story improvement loan was invoked for that. In any case, a consortium bought the camp, and it's now part of a nonprofit called True North. There was recently another major land purchase, and the camp now owns a mile of waterfront, and is thriving.
There's an alumnae reunion every five years, which unfortunately always seems to conflict with Fourth Street. I was at the reunion in 2006, but missed the last one. This one I decided to attend, though I was sorry to miss Fourth Street.
I flew into the Muskegon airport, which I'd never known existed before this, but turned out to be more convenient than the Grand Rapids one, and got a ride to camp with one of the camp staff. I appreciated that, since otherwise I would have had to rent a car.
When I was there in 2006, there was the start of a major capital campaign to renovate and add on to the lodge. I wasn't there in 2009 for the grand opening of said lodge, so this was the first time I'd seen it. It used to just be a big assembly room and dining room, with some basement areas for storage and miscellaneous use. (I remember learning table tennis in that basement.) Now the basement is a ground floor -- the hill it was on was dug out -- and there are several dorms, plus bathroom and shower facilities.
The weekend was jam-packed with activities, starting of with a canoe/kayak/tubing trip on the Muskegon River (I canoed), lots of singing, zipping on the three new ziplines, a wetlands trail walk (built over a sphagnum bog; there's a portion where you can see the 50-foot pole emerging unoxidized from the muck), water sports, and a trip to see the new properties.
It was great to see some old friends the years I attended, and see that some old traditions remain and some new ones have been established. I noticed that some of the camp songs had been visited by the folk tradition. Some had new words, and a lot of them had actions to go with them that had never existed in my time.
And then, sadly, things ended after lunch on Sunday, and I got a ride back to the airport from someone driving in that direction. My plane didn't leave until 6:20, so there were several hours sitting around at the airport. There was one other person there, and I later saw him stretched out sleeping on the floor. I was tempted, but didn't follow suit. Muskegon to ORD was a short hop, then I had another hour and a half to wait at ORD. That flight was full, and I took a bump to the 10:30 flight in exchange for a travel voucher.
I finally got home shortly before 1 am. Morwen immediately showed up demanding food. I'd left food for her on Friday, but it was probably long gone by the time I got home. So I fed her, and brought the suitcase toward the bedroom to extract whatever was necessary so I could go to bed.
And here's where the icon for this post comes into play. Normally I use the kitten-with-mouse icon for life's minor annoyances. This time, I'm literalizing the metaphor. As I walked into my bedroom, I saw something on the floor. At a second look, it was a nice, plump mouse. I shrieked. I didn't mean to; it was totally involuntary. At a third look, it was also very dead. No marks, no blood, but also no movement. I went into the kitchen to get some paper towels, and told Morwen (who was still chomping away) that she was a mighty hunter, though of course I have only inferential evidence that she was responsible for the corpse. I gathered it up in the paper towels and took it outside to the garbage can.
In the 14 years I've been living in this house, I'd never seen a mouse until now. I guess a dead mouse is better than a live one, but I hope one dead mouse doesn't mean a colony of live ones I don't know about.