After my mother died in 1970, I became pregnant with our first child. It was a year of sadness and happiness and changes all around. We moved from Lansing to Shelby to live a year with my father in order to help him through his grief. Even before my mother died we had plans to build a house of our own in the countryside outside of Hart. Living for a time in my childhood home was a transition between the city teaching jobs we were leaving and the home and teaching jobs we would have in the beautiful area where I grew up.
My husband was hired in Fremont to teach German and history and I was hoping to find a teaching job in the area after having a baby and taking a year off. Even though we did not pay rent, it was a difficult year financially with only one teacher's salary. In order to supplement our income I subbed at Shelby.
After having our daughter Aimee in December, I returned to subbing. I was desperate to find someone to take care of our baby and when I called my Aunt Margie she came to my rescue. I don't remember her ever turning me down. Her husband, my Uncle Tom, was my mother's brother and he was a larger than life personality. I loved both of them immensely.
The thing I remember most about taking Aimee to their home, often before the light of day, was the ambiance. My Uncle Tom would be sitting in a comfortable chair by a roaring fire. I loved the feeling of that fire and the warmth that always greeted me when I entered that house. I can still visualize my Uncle Tom and his boisterous way of showing me that it was no problem to take care of our baby.
A fire in a fireplace has always been intriguing to me. It is mesmerizing to watch the color of the flames and hear the crackle of the burning wood. Throughout my life fire has been a part of things I remember so fondly.
When I was in college I worked one summer at a resort, Lakeside Inn on White Lake outside of Whitehall. My brother had gotten married that summer and he and his wife lived close by. My sister-in-law had worked at Lakeside Inn during college and helped me get the job. Some evenings a fire would be built close to the water and my brother would come and play his guitar for the guests. Both he and I loved to sing and my brother, the folk music and the firelight are etched in my mind as a wonderful time in my life.
There were other fires on other beaches along Lake Michigan that bring back memories including fires we built to cook dinner on when we owned a lot on Lake Michigan. I would wrap meat, potatoes and vegetables in tin foil and they would cook while we swam. Our two children and often their cousins would frolic in the waves and be starving by the time everything was cooked.
There is a fire now on July 4th at my son's house where the grandchildren roast marshmallows and shove chocolate and their marshmallows into graham crackers. S'mores have been around a long time and watching the grandchildren eat them with relish takes me back.
I gravitate to fire anywhere I am. At Glacier National Park we stayed in a lodge next to Lake McDonald. It was a cool night and there was a fire in a huge stone fireplace in the lodge's great room that made me linger. At Caberfae when the family goes skiing there is a stone fireplace that is a magnet for everyone coming in off the slopes. I always try to get a chair right in front.
Last Christmas I received a gift that makes my love of fires so much easier. I can still build a fire in our fireplace in our family room, but my husband installed a gas unit in our living room fireplace. Now with a press of a button I can see the flames. It isn't quite the same as wood crackling and the sweet smell of wood smoke, but it satisfies my need to feel both the warmth physically and mentally.
I'm not sure why I need fire in my life, but I believe eons ago, when humans discovered flames, there was an instant change in their lives. The gloom of a tough life must have dissipated a little and a small joy probably glimmered in their eyes. I wish the warmth and beauty of flickering flames could be a part of every one's life. It is the season when firelight can do wonders to help us through the long dark nights.
My husband was hired in Fremont to teach German and history and I was hoping to find a teaching job in the area after having a baby and taking a year off. Even though we did not pay rent, it was a difficult year financially with only one teacher's salary. In order to supplement our income I subbed at Shelby.
After having our daughter Aimee in December, I returned to subbing. I was desperate to find someone to take care of our baby and when I called my Aunt Margie she came to my rescue. I don't remember her ever turning me down. Her husband, my Uncle Tom, was my mother's brother and he was a larger than life personality. I loved both of them immensely.
The thing I remember most about taking Aimee to their home, often before the light of day, was the ambiance. My Uncle Tom would be sitting in a comfortable chair by a roaring fire. I loved the feeling of that fire and the warmth that always greeted me when I entered that house. I can still visualize my Uncle Tom and his boisterous way of showing me that it was no problem to take care of our baby.
A fire in a fireplace has always been intriguing to me. It is mesmerizing to watch the color of the flames and hear the crackle of the burning wood. Throughout my life fire has been a part of things I remember so fondly.
When I was in college I worked one summer at a resort, Lakeside Inn on White Lake outside of Whitehall. My brother had gotten married that summer and he and his wife lived close by. My sister-in-law had worked at Lakeside Inn during college and helped me get the job. Some evenings a fire would be built close to the water and my brother would come and play his guitar for the guests. Both he and I loved to sing and my brother, the folk music and the firelight are etched in my mind as a wonderful time in my life.
There were other fires on other beaches along Lake Michigan that bring back memories including fires we built to cook dinner on when we owned a lot on Lake Michigan. I would wrap meat, potatoes and vegetables in tin foil and they would cook while we swam. Our two children and often their cousins would frolic in the waves and be starving by the time everything was cooked.
There is a fire now on July 4th at my son's house where the grandchildren roast marshmallows and shove chocolate and their marshmallows into graham crackers. S'mores have been around a long time and watching the grandchildren eat them with relish takes me back.
I gravitate to fire anywhere I am. At Glacier National Park we stayed in a lodge next to Lake McDonald. It was a cool night and there was a fire in a huge stone fireplace in the lodge's great room that made me linger. At Caberfae when the family goes skiing there is a stone fireplace that is a magnet for everyone coming in off the slopes. I always try to get a chair right in front.
Last Christmas I received a gift that makes my love of fires so much easier. I can still build a fire in our fireplace in our family room, but my husband installed a gas unit in our living room fireplace. Now with a press of a button I can see the flames. It isn't quite the same as wood crackling and the sweet smell of wood smoke, but it satisfies my need to feel both the warmth physically and mentally.
I'm not sure why I need fire in my life, but I believe eons ago, when humans discovered flames, there was an instant change in their lives. The gloom of a tough life must have dissipated a little and a small joy probably glimmered in their eyes. I wish the warmth and beauty of flickering flames could be a part of every one's life. It is the season when firelight can do wonders to help us through the long dark nights.
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