We had so much fun at the lodge this year that we threw it out there as a suggestion for the Miller side of the family vacation. We were able to book the last week of September, right before the Hattendorfs needed to close everything up (and drain the pipes before temperatures reach freezing!) The lake house is not insulated and there is no heat, but we kept warm with plenty of fires, wool socks, and a few space heaters. Doc knew where the choicest spot in the house was, clearly.

The lake was pretty quiet - some people had even taken their docks in for the year, and downtown Petoskey was much less busy too. It was very relaxing, and everything had a more leisurely cadence. The lake was often still and glassy, and the leaves where all just starting to change. The smell of burning wood lingered in the air.

We went hunting for Petoskey stones again - it was almost everyone's first hunt and fortunately we were able to find a few good ones! I wore my sandals so that I could get into the water a little bit, and of course Indy wanted to be like Mama even though she was wearing sneakers, and it wasn't long before. . .

. . . and then she was all the way in. She couldn't help herself, she just loves to "fim."

Of course when she got out she was shivering. Fortunately I at least had some dry undies and pants for her, so we got her dry and packed her into her car seat with a quilt before driving around The Bayview Association to look at the beautiful cottages.

Tenny didn't do much Petoskey stone hunting, he just snoozed. Lazy butt.

Thursday and Friday were so warm that we spent Friday on the lake. Alan took Indy out in the kayak and she fell asleep for an hour! When she finally came back in she was slightly sunburned on half of her face, whoops!

We waded around in the water and caught a crayfish.

Even Doc swam a little.

Tenny hung out with me for a while, chewing on my arm, until we decided to put his feet in the water. At first he was like. . . hmm. . .

And then he pretty instantly made that face and the accompanying noises I'm sure you can imagine.

There was much hard cider and wine drinking and even a little charcuterie. In fact the whole week was full of a lot of delicious food and drink.

Indy debating whether or not to join Papa on the tube.

Oh ok!

The week also involved a trip on the ferry to Mackinac Island, my first time (fun!) and my mother-in-law Cathy getting pulled off a bike by one of the dogs and breaking her wrist, thanks Charlie (not fun!). Really a lot of fun (besides the whole wrist breaking thing). I got some great knitting time in (though we're starting into gift season so I won't be able to share all of it here until after Christmas), and wasted much less time distracted by technology. Time with family is always appreciated, but by the end of vacations I'm always acutely aware of how much I thrive on nuclear family time and start to crave being home and back into our little family of four routine. I've never been able to figure out if I'm an introvert or extrovert. Can you be both?

I'm back! Sorry about the hiatus. I was busy on vacation version 2.0 (Miller-style) - pictures to come. Before we left to head to northern Michigan for the second time, this time with Alan's family, we made sure to squeeze in some apple picking. This is the fourth year I have joined in on what has been a long time Miller family tradition (see 2011 and 2012). In the past we have always gone on a Saturday, but busy schedules left us with only a Friday open this year, which meant the place was a bit of a ghost town (brat shop and cider barn were closed), but I didn't mind the quiet. We quietly came, were still able to have a cider shake and stock up on smoked cheese, doughnuts, and Jonathan and Macintosh apples, and headed home in time for Friday fire night.

Aunt Bethy shared her caramel apple - result: caramel mustache and goatee.

Indy helped by picking apples, carrying bags. . . and eating them.

Tenny helped by looking cute and drooling.

The orchard store keeps hives behind their building, and one of their honeybees visited our car for a while!

I love all of the seasons (I would never be able to live somewhere without the changing seasons), but I truly and especially love fall. Nothing quite compares to the intensity of color that it brings, it brings both warm sunny days where you can play in the leaves in jeans and a t-shirt, and cold rainy days where you fire up the kettle and go digging for that one sweater. Seasons always invoke such specific memories. Alan and I were married in the fall and I remember that time fondly, newly married, homing into our tiny bed-in-the-closet studio apartment, constant french presses, and the sound of clanging up the metal stairs in the back of the building.

When I was single my love of fall oscillated between bursts of joy at the beauty of the leaves and a sort of self-satisfying melancholy. It was always a productive time for me spiritually and creatively, especially for writing. If you're a creative type you'll probably get this. There's just something about parking in front of a window on a rainy fall day with something hot to sip on and a blank page and probably some recent relationship drama that can inspire a good poem like nothing else. To be honest, marriage sort of upset my spiritual and creative mojo. Like a lot of things in life, I developed certain habits, and in this case it was dependence upon a little melancholy for inspiration, though I suppose it's really just a positive testament to my marriage that I'm not very often melancholy anymore these days. But its left me feeling a little uninspired, and only recently have I realized that the solution is to pave new pathways of inspiration and find my new creative, rather than trying and failing and getting frustrated when old modes of operation just don't seem to click for me anymore. I'm not sure what all this means yet or what it will look like. A lot of thoughts from a simple apple picking post, right? It's good. Hopefully it's a step towards a new mode of thoughtfulness and creativity that's inspired by beauty and thankfulness.