The last leg of our trip was by far the easiest. We left Ann Arbor at the crack of dawn, and Basil delivered us to St. Ignace in time for breakfast at Bentley’s.  Beckett couldn’t have been happier to be out of the car, andl literally skipped down the streets of St. Ignace, singing “Breakfast in Michigan! Breakfast in Michigan!”  He sat close to me in the booth, and we shared a plate of cheesy eggs.

We made it to the UP on Thursday mid morning, and were on Little Manistiquie Lake by around 1:30pm. Beckett got right to work assimilating to the Yuper lifestyle by putting on his long waders. Before I knew it, he was off on his first boat ride with MeeMa and Papa.

 

Basil unpacked the car, and we marvelled at how much he had actually fit into the trunk of the Cobalt. I had tried to talk him out of packing his golf clubs, but that idea was quickly dismissed as ridiculous,  and the clubs went into the trunk first. When I brought my pillow out to get packed into the trunk, Basil had given me a slightly dirty look. You can imagine the look he got in return.  This photo doesn’t even include my suitcase or Basil’s suitcase, Beckett’s toys, the scooter,  or the dog.

 

 

GREETINGS FROM DA UP, EH!

 

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 Day 2 of our road trip brought us to Ann Arbor, and Basil drove us right to Zingerman’s Deli for lunch. While Zingerman’s deserves it’s own entry and review, I will tease you with a photo instead.

 
That is one happy sandwich eatin’ man!

 
Shortly after we got to the restaurant and got our mammoth sandwiches, the power went out. There was a big thunderstorm going on when we arrived in Ann Arbor, but we were happily sitting outside under a big dining tent and didn’t even notice the power outage. 

 
When we have more time, I want Basil to show me around Ann Arbor. This is his college town, and he loves coming here. Both times we’ve been it’s been pouring down rain, and we’ve been just passing through. I’d love to spend a long weekend here with Basil, just the two of us so that he can really play tour guide.

 
See that Tower? According to Basil, students at University of Michigan climb to the top of the tower and hurl themselves off during final exams. A suicide tower? Man, those kids need a new major. When I was getting my Theatre degree, my final exams consisted of throwing a staged bar fight over pints of cheap beer at AC’s in downtown Charleston. 

 
GO BLUE!

Tomorrow, we’re off to  the Upper Peninsula!

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While playing on the bed with Beckett, I tried to explain to him that I don’t like to play quite as rough as Basil.

“Beckett, Mommy likes to play soft and sweet, and not so rough and tumble like piledriving your knee into my stomach.”

His reply: “Well, spit is soft!”

 

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