Hello Tiger

It may be true that money doesn't buy happiness, but it doesn't buy a World Series ring either. Last night night our beloved and once bedraggled Tigers beat the Yankees to cinch a birth in the AL Division Championship. This will finally prove to the rest of the nation something that we here in Detroit knew all season, this is a great baseball team. However bad New York might have been playing, they were still beaten by better pitching and hitting. Let's hope that the press doesn't discount Detroit's victory too much.


Saturday was definitely a great time to celebrate, but with this first taste of victory in so many years, it's time to start looking forward to the next series. Oakland will not be a push over. But there is something so sweet about beating the Yankees.




It's good to see Manger Jim Leyland almost crack a smile as his team carries him around the field. You know that he's already thinking about Oakland. Now if only I had some way to get my hands on tickets.

Driving Lessons

It has been a big transition for me to learn to drive in the city as opposed to the small town I grew up in, but it's equally trying to ride in a car with my husband when he attempts to drive in my home town. So I have decided to come up with this handy translation of common driving issues between the country and the city.

Being Stuck in Traffic:
City - sitting in traffic for 30 plus minutes for no apparent reason
Country - waiting to make a left hand turn for more than 30 seconds or sitting at a four way stop forever, with everyone waving for some else to go first

Road Hazards:
City - enormous pot holes
Country - driving behind a fully loaded sugar beet truck

Honking the Horn:
City - What the $%#$ are you doing!!, You $%$%# Moron!!!, Get the %$%$@ out of my way!!
Country - If honking at a car - hey how are you, lets stop in the middle of the road and catch up on the kids, work, whatever. If driving by someone's house and you don't have time to stop, just lay on the horn to say "HI"

Driving Directions:
City - take 696 to Telegraph drive north to 13 mile make a Michigan left
Country - drive until you see the Sunshine (of course you have to know that the gas station on the corner hasn't been called the Sunshine for about 20 years, but you should know that), make a right, go a block make a left, drive until you see my Grandma's old house, make a left.

Getting Lost:
City - Call Randy's friend Chris, he's a walking road atlas
Country - Impossible, all the roads run in a grid

Road Hogs:
City - Any large SUV
Country - Tractors

Yellow Light:
City - fly through as fast as you can
Country - we don't have yellow lights, only flashing four way stops

High School in a Small Town

I was talking to my sister this week reminiscing about our high school in a small Mid-Michigan town and there were some truly great things that I had somehow forgotten. First is that our high school was surrounded by corn fields. Which is probably not all that unusual with a lot of rural high schools, but it did make going back to school in the fall more interesting when you could watch the harvest instead of paying attention in class.

The second and far more fun is FFA Week.

I don't know if the events for FFA Week are a national standard, but this is what my school did. First there was Drive Your Tractor to School Day. This is when obviously the guys and some of the girls in the FFA would drive the family tractor to school. There is nothing like walking into the parking lot and seeing thousands of dollars worth of heavy equipment. Then there is Bean Soup Day. This is a fundraiser, for a couple of dollars during lunch hour you would go out to the Ag Barn (yes my high school had a pole barn for agricultural classes) and have the best bean soup. Now of course some of the prissy girls in school would never dream of going, maybe they were afraid of gas, I don't know but they were really missing out. I'd love to have that soup recipe. Lastly there was an Ice Cream Social. Yet another fundraiser, but far more popular with average student body.

Now I got in trouble with some of my friends for not joining the FFA (Future Farmers of America), but I just wouldn't have looked good in a blue corduroy jacket.

The Best Part of the Best Season

I have always loved fall. The first chill in the air, the smell of leaves burning, wearing jeans and sweaters, football. It's just a great time of year and I can't imagine living somewhere that doesn't have this season. For that reason alone I could never move out of the Midwest. And the very best thing about fall in the Midwest is visiting a cider mill. Now there is a cider mill in the 'burbs near where I live and they do a good job, but to me there is just something wrong about pulling into a parking lot full of BMW's and hearing women wearing clothes worth more than I make in a week talk about going to watch apples getting "squished." Fortunately Randy and I were up to my parents this weekend and on the way home is the best cider mill. Okay, perhaps I'm a little biased since it's the mill that I have been going to for the past 25 years, but it really is good. It hasn't changed too much over the years since my first visit on a kindergarten field trip either. Of course it's a bit more commercialized and there is a winery with a tasting room, but other than that pretty much the same. We picked up 1/2 dozen doughnuts and a 1/2 gallon of cider. We also did some wine tastings. There are hard ciders and many wine varities. We purchased a bottle of blueberry wine and a cherry dessert wine. Both of which we will probably serve room temerature as more of a port type wine. So if you are ever on US 27 a highly recomend stopping Uncle John's Cider Mill, it's definately worth the trip.

My Very First Post

My husband has been bugging me for years to start a blog, but I never really felt like there was anything that I wanted to write about, until now. A couple weeks ago while on our European cruise, we met Jared and Michael (from California by way of Kalamazoo and Chicago). We were having dinner one night and on the menu was sweetbreads. They both were surprised that I knew what sweetbreads are and jokingly called me Midwestern. That's when I realized that yes I am truly Midwestern and that I should truly embrace this side of me. So that is what brings me to my very first post.

Now I haven't had sweetbreads in years, but my father used to make them when I was growing up. And actually he has some in the freezer now if I get a craving, but somewhere along the way a got an aversion to organ meats. Hopefully this will be the first of many posts about my life in the midwest.