You must teach the children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of your grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth, befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.

Chief Seattle ~ 1786 – 1866

Until tomorrow ~ lovin’ my nephew Lance and niece Landon, who love the land ~ God willing,

Woodswoman

Writer Thomas Wolfe didn’t live to see 40, but he knew about people and their yearnings.

I’ve always called Petoskey my home.

Grew up there. Went to school there as a child. Raised my children there. My mother still lives there. My father is buried there…

I was always drawn to the Bay…my lifeblood. Lake Michigan waters.

But now, my life is 40 miles south, down a dusty, dirty, washboard road.

Worst road north of the 45th Parallel. Perhaps even south.

No sign of water for miles.

I returned to Petoskey this past week to catch up with my best friend, Dort, who was visiting from one state over. The dairy state.

Dort and I were joined at the hip from the first time we met in Junior High.

We were a pair, always together. Dort was the smart one. Always. She still is.

During our high school years, Dorothy ran for Class President.

This past spring, Dort ran for Mayor of LaCrosse, Wisconsin. Some things never change…

But I changed.

I return to Petoskey now and all I see is glitz and glamour.

I long for the days of the waterfront being only for me and my fishing pole (my Back Country Special with my 2052 reel).

Now, folks wander about licking ice cream cones with dogs on leashes, crowding out fisherman and stripping away their solitude.

In my teen years, I was on the “docks” with my unleashed, ever attentive dog, Jezebel. My boyfriend at the time would trade freshly caught trout for pecan pies at a local soda shop.

His mother enjoyed that trade, as she had a large Catholic family to feed. Those pies were a special treat for all.

Now, I am bittersweet about returning home to Petoskey.

I find myself with a 1000 yard stare, longing to get on the road and head back to Russ-Stick Acres, where time truly does stand still.

Away from the hustle bustle.

The crowds of people.

Home is now Mancelona. That little town, named after the daughter of the founder. Mancelona.

Who would have thought I would have moved backward, wanting nothing but solitude and quiet.

It’s good to have a place to call home.

As Thomas Wolfe would say…”Look Homeward, Angel…”

Until tomorrow ~ God willing,

Woodswoman

Next spring, we will have a new grandchild.

Welcomed into the most amazing and blessed young family.

Another little Woodsman, or little Woodswoman, is on the way.

The journey begins…

Until tomorrow ~ God willing,

Woodswoman

My son, Mark, has been playing golf for nearly all of his quarter century on earth.

I recall one of my proudest moments as a mother.

It was at a Michigan Jr. PGA Final when Mark was about 15. It was his second year at the finals.

One of the fellow golfers was nervous that day, as he wasn’t doing so well on the course.

The boy was literally petrified as to how his father would react. However, Mark’s gentle nature calmed the boy and Mark assured him he should relax, and be proud of his accomplishments.

That, and seeing Mark shake everyone’s hand while exiting the course that day, made me one proud Mama.

It was difficult when Mark decided to join his older brother, Charlie, in California to attend golf school, where green grass was plentiful year ’round.

Saying goodbye to old friends and family was heartwrenching.

But it was necessary to follow a dream, just like his brother had done, when he left Michigan to head to California to produce films.

Attending golf school, working at a long-standing golf course after graduation, playing in front of a T.V. camera, a Nike contract, and playing the PGA apprenticeship circuit was the payoff for Mark.

“The only time my prayers are never answered is on the golf course.” Billy Graham

Prayers were answered, and things rolled along good for Mark last week.

PGA Tournament. 72. In the money. 4th place.

I only wish I could give him a hug…and congratulate him in person.

It’s wonderful to follow your bliss.

Until tomorrow ~ proud as heck Markie ~ God willing,

Woodsmom/Woodswoman