Category Archives: Daily Life

Straight from Hitsville, USA!

“Do ya love me? Do ya love me? Do ya love me? Do ya love me? Do ya love me? Noooooowwww that I can dance?”

Tony, Jacquelyn and I sang that hit by The Contours under the echo chamber during our recent visit to the Motown Historical Museum. We definitely had that “famous Motown sound.”

Our guide, Aaron, brilliantly educated and entertained the crowd with anecdotes about Motown founder Berry Gordy and the company’s proteges, including Diana Ross & the Supremes, Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye, the Temptations, and the Jackson 5. We all got goosebumps looking at photos of those iconic artists recording in Studio A in the exact spots where we stood to hear Aaron’s stories.

I highly recommend a visit to this museum if you find yourself in the Motor City!

Jacqueline visited this week from Canada, so we took a little roadtrip to Detroit. She and Tony pose here in front of the museum.
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This unassuming little house was home to Hitsville USA with a garage that was transformed into Studio A. All Motown stars recorded here until 1972. And that’s where we sang “My Girl” by the Temptations and tried to imitate their snazzy choreography.
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Mall Rats

The play area at a nearby outlet mall has lots of huge “food” for kids to jump on and hide behind. It’s basically a germ-fest death trap. I often take on the unpopular role of Playground Nazi, confronting oversized kids who blatantly ignore the yardstick-holding cartoon character and bound from big banana to colossal cupcake to humongous hot dog, barreling over the toddlers. Despite my misgivings, the nephews do love this weird place. And so we keep going back.

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Happy birthday, America!

Our little island does not mess around when it comes to celebrating Independence Day.

Friday was Flare Night. We didn’t really know what that meant, but we inferred that we were supposed to buy enough road flares to line our lakefront. What time? My sister, Kate, had heard we should light them at 7:30 p.m. The sun was still blazing brightly at that time, so it seemed ridiculous to light the flares. None of us had done any real research on this Bellevue Island tradition.

My parents, sisters, bros-in-law, and nephews joined Tony and me to play in the lake all afternoon and wait for the mysterious flares to light up. We began to think it was a practical joke on the dumb newcomers to the neighborhood. As the sun set around 9:45, my mom just couldn’t wait anymore. “Light the *@#% flares!” she said. “We need to get the kids to bed!”

Britt and John got to work sinking the flares in to the ground through pieces of aluminum foil (to protect the grass – a tip from our friendly neighbor, Bob). We lit the flares and reveled in the red glow, expelling a collective sigh of relief as we saw the rest of the shoreline light up minutes later.

The next morning, the island was abuzz with gossip about the new dorks on Buena Vista who lit their flares 10 minutes early. We got the scoop from our tenant, Don, who had received a late-night phone call. How did everyone know to light them at 10 p.m.? We’re so out of the loop. Oh well …

John and Paul
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Nico is very jumpy. He jumps off the dock to Britt.
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He jumps over a beer bottle.
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He jumps on Megan.
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Nico counts beer bottles. He kept telling us to hurry up and finish our beers so he could add them to his collection.
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Meg and Britt.
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The Jimenez posse.
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John and Britt succumb to mother-in-law pressure to light the flares.
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Are you happy now, Mom? Everybody’s laughing at us.
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Waiting for the rest of the lake to light up!
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Saturday was the big Lake Orion fireworks show. By lunchtime, people in town were spreading out blankets and setting up lawn chairs to claim spots with the best views. At the lake, we pitched a little tent for shade and splashed in the water with family and a few friends. The Grays brought fishing gear and a kayak, which provided endless entertainment. Everyone contributed tasty treats to the picnic.

Although we had received invitations to several neighborhood parties, we had so much fun goofing around, eating and chatting that we didn’t leave our beach until it was time for the fireworks to start. At that time, we all grabbed a chair or mat and plodded next door to the gorgeous property of our neighbors, Kim and David. They live on a peninsula that offered perfect views of the fireworks and boat-filled lake.

After living in China for four years, I am not easily impressed by fireworks. However, some of our guests commented that these were the best they’ve ever seen, especially the finale. Tony and I shared a derisive giggle because we saw fireworks in Shanghai as loud and colorful as this finale, only they weren’t the finale. They went on like that for hours. However, we decided to celebrate that – unlike some countries – America pays workers a fair wage, allows fireworks sellers to make an honest profit, and imposes safety restrictions on the explosives, effectively limiting the size of local fireworks shows. Anyway, no fireworks show could bring me as much joy as sharing our home and lake with the people we care about.

Patrick fishes while his brother, Liam, kayaks.
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John and Britt set up a little tent for shade.
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Tony and Paulie.
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The gang’s all here!
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Taking turns with the kayak.
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Pop and Gee in the tent.
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Paulie jumps off the dock.
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My new friend, Lisa, stops by on a party barge!
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Nico loves watermelon!
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Paulie plays with a velcro paddle and tennis ball (which fell apart well before the party wrapped up).
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Liam teaches Nico how to fish.
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Janelle brought by individually packaged jello shots, which my sisters seemed to enjoy.
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Nico roasts marshmallows in the fire pit.
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Nico shows off the sheriff’s badge he received from an officer making the rounds.
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Paul and me.
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Watching the fireworks from our neighbor’s yard. Patrick paddled the kayak around the peninsula for the show.
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If this blog post has left you itching for more, check out my flickr.com photostream.

They’re heeeeeeere!!

Without a doubt, the hardest part of living abroad is being so far away from my family. Many of you know I’m just a wee bit obsessed with my nephews, Nico and Paul. Maybe obsessed is an understatement …

Today, Tony and I were shopping at Kohl’s when my sister, Kate, called. “We took a wrong turn and headed towards Pontiac instead of Utica,” she sighed. “We’re gonna be another hour and a half at least.” After I told her how stupid she was, she shouted, “Just kidding! We’re almost there.” Tony and I bolted to the check-out and raced to the car.

On the way back to my mom’s house, I told Tony, “Don’t freak out Nico by attacking him right away.”
“I know, I have to let HIM come to ME,” he said. I love that Tony adores those boys as much as I do (almost).

Of course I didn’t follow my own advice. I ran into the house and nearly knocked over my sister and her husband with big hugs. Nico laughed, so I scooped him up and gave him a noisy kiss. When I put him down, he ran off and yelled for me to chase him. Unfortunately, Kate’s cattle dog, Sydney, came flying around the corner at that moment, sending Nico airborne. The poor kid did a total WWF flip and slammed down on his back. Lots of tears. Lots of hugs. And everything was OK again.

We only spent a few hours together today, but there were so many adorable moments. They drove to our lake house, and I gave 3-year-old Nico a personal tour. He was hilarious.
“This is Aunt Shari’s bedroom,” I said.
“Uh-huh,” he said. “Hmmm… and what’s this?”
“That’s the bedspread,” I said.
“Oh, OK,” he said.
When I took him and his brother to the basement-cum-playroom, they shot some Nerf hoops for awhile and then Nico said, “S’cuse me, where’d a lot of toys go?” Apparently I hadn’t bought enough.

The boys took stale hotdog buns to the dock to feed the ducks. At first, we tossed bread chunks to a couple of disinterested waterfowl, but soon the ducky grapevine spread the news that we had snacks and no customers. Ducks came paddling at top speed from all over the lake and knocked each other out of the way to get the bread. Two-year-old Paul could barely contain himself. Every time a duck gobbled a piece of bun, Paul screamed with excitement.

I hated to send the gang back to Mom’s for the night. (On the other hand, I’m sure I wouldn’t have time to write this if they were still here.) Can’t wait to see them in the morning!

Paul scopes out the ducks.
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“Here. Here. Here. Here.” Nico tossed the bread like it was his job.
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Looking at fish.
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Stormy Sunday on the Lake

Sunday was a stormy day here at Lake Orion, but we still managed to fit in plenty of fun!

I met Bob, another Bellevue Island resident, the other day when he was out walking his dog, Shiloh. He kindly offered to take us out on his boat Sunday morning. Sweet!

Bob pulled up to our dock around 10 a.m. Sunday with his wife, JoAnn, and Shiloh. My parents, Tony and I hopped aboard. Turns out Bob and my dad both worked for General Dynamics and knew some of the same people. Bob and JoAnn pointed out interesting landmarks around the lake, including a house once owned by Jimmy Hoffa, and shared stories about the area’s history and residents. Unfortunately, menacing storm clouds sent us home early.

Bob and JoAnn pick us up.
Bob and Joanne pick us up

That’s our house behind the docked boats.
Looking back at our house

Tony chillin’ on the boat.
Tony chillaxin' on the boat

I love the wind in my hair!
Wind in my hair

Shiloh keeps an eye out for ducks.
Shiloh looking for ducks

Cruising through some canals.
Cruising through canals

Storm’s a-brewing.
Storm clouds rolling in

Back at our dock.
Dad and Mom chat with Bob and Joanne

Thanks for the ride!
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What a wonderful welcome to the neighborhood! We look forward to spending more time with this lovely couple (and not just because they have a boat…).

Later that day, we played hosts at our first lakehouse party – a potluck BBQ for everyone we know in the area (all friends of my parents, whom we now consider to be our friends, too). We enjoyed showing off my mom’s handiwork and decorating prowess in our little house. It was fun to see the astonishment when people found out the painting over our bed is a “Betty Ann original,” which she whipped out in a couple hours the day before we got here. And I beamed with pride for her when someone held up a pillow and said, “Can you believe she made this?!”

One couple brought their son and his buddy, who immediately dashed down to our dock with their fishing poles. Despite spotting several large bass in the water, they only caught one little fish, which they tossed back.
Liam fishes from the dock

Tony braved the rain to grill hamburgers and hotdogs, and everyone brought yummy side dishes. (My mom’s pretzel dip must have included crack because I’m still suffering withdrawal.)
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Our first BBQ party!

At the end of the day, I felt sick from eating so much junk, but by the time I woke up Monday morning, I was ready for a little breakfast of pretzels and Crack Dip.

Raking the Lake

Yesterday I went for a swim in the lake for the first time. I walked down the concrete steps next to our dock and then waded in up to my knees. I was in the water for maybe 8 seconds before I came splashing out in horror.

You may not know this about me, but I HATE mushy muddy lake bottoms. I always wear shoes in the lake (and the ocean, for that matter) because I cannot STAND the feeling of sludge squishing between my toes, and God only knows what those sharp edges are that poke out of the goop. Rocks? Shells? Scary sea creatures with gnashing teeth and sharp claws? Why take the risk?

The only thing freakier than smooshy mud at the bottom of the lake is smooshy mud growing crops of grabby grass that tickle your legs and wrap around your ankles.

I’m a bit disappointed to report that my lake has both: thick murky mire and a forest of foliage.

I can handle the mud. The aforementioned shoes get me in the lake, and as soon as I’m deep enough, I just start swimming. (And, seriously, that doesn’t have to be very deep. In Egypt, I once swam in water that was about 8 inches deep so I wouldn’t have to step on the sea cucumbers.)

But the lake weeds? That’s enough to strand me on land. Luckily, Tony and my dad came to the rescue. Armed with rakes, they bravely stepped down in to the inky unknown. They swooshed and scraped through the water, dumping piles of lake weeds up on the dock.

Tony and Dad Rake  the Lake

As they worked, I ripped off chunks of old hot dog buns and tossed them to the ducks until they (the boys, not the ducks) suggested I might lend a hand by bagging up the weeds.

Ducks and Lake Weeds

I enlisted my mom, who was a little overdressed for the occasion in a lovely soon-to-be-mud-spattered lavender top and Chinese pearl necklace. She reluctantly held the trash bags open while I scooped in the lake debris (which included a flower planter and a few chunks of concrete, in addition to the mountains of plant life).

Mom holds the bag

Dad and Tony made another pass with their rakes this afternoon and reported a much cleaner lake bottom. I hope so. I prefer my natural bodies of water to feel more like a swimming pool than a fish tank.

I bag the weeds

A Place to Call Home

Since we started teaching abroad, Tony and I have spent summers mooching off friends and relatives. That’s been fun (most of the time), but we found ourselves yearning for a place to call “home.” We wanted friends and family to visit US. When my parents moved to Michigan and promised they wouldn’t move again any time soon, we decided to buy a summer home there.

Here’s Tony at Lake Orion last summer, feeling indecisive. It only took a little persuading to convince him that this place was IT!
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Last summer, the house looked like this. We hired the best decorator I know – my mom! – who worked with our tenant, Don, a house painter/handyman, to give the house a much-needed facelift inside and out.
before exterior

Here’s Don this week, excited to show us the finished product.
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Tony and I felt like the recipients of “Ultimate Makeover – Home Edition.” We couldn’t believe this 70-something-year-old house could look so fresh and modern. They replaced the carpet with maple laminate flooring, stripped the wallpaper and painted, ripped out the bathroom vanity and replaced it, walled off a door between the two sides of the duplex, and made multiple plumbing and electrical upgrades. Here are some highlights:

before living room

after living

view from living room

before kitchen

after kitchen

kitchen and living room

before dining

after dining

lake view

dining area nook

before bathroom

after bathroom

before guest

after guest

before master

before master closet

after master

after master closet

After we finish paying for all this work, we’ll get my mom started on the basement! Maybe some day we’ll even be able to afford a canoe. In the meantime, we enjoy hanging out on the porch and watching the swans, ducks and herons that visit our patch of lakefront, and we’re looking forward to sharing our porch with visitors.

As much as we love exploring the world, there’s no place like home!