Enjoy diverse perspectives from West Michigan women.
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Summer has arrived! No more lunches to pack, kids to rush out the door, homework to tackle, and general school shenanigans to maintain. But even with all the wonderful aspects of summer, I'm still not sure whether to dance a jig, or pour more vodka into my jigger. I can only think of one thing:
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Ah, summer—my favorite season since I was a kid! I love nothing more than heading to one of West Michigan's beaches, or drinking mojitos by the pool with a friend. But the one thing I don't look forward to is the extra chore of mowing the lawn, trimming the hedge ... If you haven't already caught on with where I'm going, I'm not talking vegetation here people.
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A couple of weeks ago, during my weekly Meijer visit, I'd just finished loading up the bags when I turned back to the screen and saw the total staring at me: $236.17. Wait: Didn't I just spend that exact amount less than a week ago? I didn't even buy any wine this week! Suddenly, those cinnamon sugar pita chips in my cart didn't look as tempting as they did in aisle 11. Ugh.
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Late last summer, out on a power-walk, I passed the most charming yard. Bounded by fruit trees, branches loaded with apples and pears, there were rows of raspberry brambles and sunflowers, patches of bright dahlias, pole bean tipis, and tomato plants, staked to support their bright red fruit. Morning glories climbed everywhere. I just stopped and stared. Amidst it all was a craggy birdhouse, with bluebirds perched on top. It was so beautiful; a perfect mix of practical gardening and floral whimsy. A few weeks later, as my husband and I walked by this same yard, we hatched a plan to begin our own garden.
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I admit it. I love Tulip Time. And I’m a little shocked when local people say they’ve never been, or that they haven’t been since they were seven years old and went with their grandparents. WHAT? I just don’t understand. This isn’t your grandma’s festival anymore.
