One Comma

Thanksgiving might be my favorite holiday. There's a nice reason for its existence, no associated shopping season, minimal decoration, a great meal, and the opportunity to spend quality time with friends and family. People worry about joining you for a Christmas event, for fear of intruding; they'll happily come to Thanksgiving dinner. The only downside might be having to watch the Detroit Lions attempt to play football each year.

When Rach and I got married we had to negotiate the holiday schedule with the in-laws and local family; we claimed Thanksgiving, and hosted it every year until recently. We'd have 12-20 people over, often including friends who weren't traveling "back home". It was a great opportunity to be generous, and we got all of the leftovers.

The last few years we've traveled to Michigan for the holiday. Rachel's brother-in-law Rob has a family cottage on Lake Michigan, way up north in Pierport (near Manistee), and we get together with Kathy and Rob, Rachel's mom, neice Sheila and nephew Rob, and a rotating selection of sisters and cousins. It's called the "Villa Cecille", or "Villa" for short, and has been in Rob's family for 100 years or so. It's a fantastic place -- right on the lake, surrounded by woods, on a still-unpaved road. For groceries you have to drive to the IGA in either Bear Lake or Onekama.

The latter town's name is also an inside joke: it's pronounced "Oh-NECK-uh-ma", but apparently too many visitors have called it "One-comma" over the years. So you can get a t-shirt or hat in town that just has "1," on it. Pretty dry humor, I think, especially for northern Michigan.

The house has a low beamed ceiling, comfy old furniture, and a great view of the lake over the dunes. The Harrigans stay in the guest house, a converted garage 30 feet from the main house. The heart of the Villa is the hearth, a beautiful stone fireplace that provides most of the heat to the house. There's a fire going from 8am to midnight or later; the hearth never really cools down while we're there. We go through a lot of wood over Thanksgiving weekend.

As remote as Pierport is, I'm sure the beach isn't crowded in the summer -- but in the winter it's desolate. Every day I take Elvis for an hour-long walk on the beach, and don't see anyone else the whole time. Sometimes the wind is really blowing, though, and that cuts us short. The drab greys, browns, and greens, the sound of the waves, and nothing else -- it's great thinkin' time.

The kids love it there. In the morning they roll out of bed at the crack of whenever, put robes on and scuttle from the guest house to the Villa for breakfast. Pajamas are worn until the afternoon, and sometimes all day. Despite an initial warning each year the boys always manage to get their shoes and/or boots wet in the creek or the lake, limiting their clothing choices for a while. There's no internet connection, or even cell phone coverage. We don't watch much TV, either -- sometimes a movie at night, but indoors it's mostly reading, playing cards or board games, and doing jigsaw puzzles.

It occurred to me this year that doing jigsaw puzzles is the ultimate vacation activity: it's enjoyable while being absolutely useless. It's not educational (like reading), or good for you (like exercise), or even mentally stimulating (like many games). When you're doing a jigsaw puzzle you're reveling in true leisure time.

So we had a very nice Thanksgiving, thanks for asking -- generally happy, with a little sadness in the background. I've stopped expecting any drama from the "first ___ without Rachel", like her birthday, the return to Lake Geneva, Thanksgiving, etc. The kids are some combination of well-adjusted, well-supported, too busy to dwell, in denial -- I don't know, and I can't obsess over it. We'll just press on, together, enjoying the good things and dealing with everything else as it comes.

Pat