Resurrecting the Yard

These tulips always sprout up in the Spring, then die off after a couple weeks.

'Sup gang.

Here we are in the first weekend of May, at long last.  This month is like Summer's Pre-Season (similar to what November is to December), and this is when we Houghs really start itching to be outdoors throwing back drinks with friends, boating on the lake with family, or being out in our backyard bronzing and doing yard work. 

This weekend didn't see as much of the former two activities, but plenty of the third.  Kris had been pestering me for weeks - nay, months - to set up our gazebo (yes, Kris bought a gazebo last fall and the large box has been sitting in our garage taking up all kinds of valuable space.)  I've kept telling her 'no' because the rain and snow kept coming and I didn't want the assembly to get all jacked up, but this weekend we've had nothing but awesome, sunny weather.

We have this magnolia tree in the backyard that is absolutely gorgeous. . . for about two weeks, while the flowers are in bloom.  Then all the petals wither and fall off the tree and the tree looks like any other tree.  Still. . . for those two weeks we get some pretty awesome pics.

Well, today I finally relented.

Alayna and Kris start assembling the infamous gazebo on the patio. 

While she and Alayna threw together the gazebo, Yours Truly began trimming a crap-load of trees in our backyard that I've been wanting to scale down for years now.  I then, rather stupidly, decided to burn all the brush so that I wouldn't have to worry about bagging it up in those lawn bags you can pick up from hardware stores.  The trees took forever to catch on fire, as they were still full of moisture, so when they eventually did catch fire they shot up the most ridiculous amount of smoke I've ever witnessed in a backyard bonfire.

Whoops.

Anyway, we had ourselves a labor-intensive but enjoyable Saturday, and felt pretty damn productive by the end of the evening, all things considered.

Check it out, folks. . .

Close up shot of the magnolias (is that the name of the flower, or the tree?)

I offered to help them a few times, but they were being 'independent women' about needing a man's help.  Oh well.

(You can spot the smoke starting to climb up from my fire in the background, there.)

I took a long, long time - with plenty of cardboard, firestarter, kindling, and gasoline - to get this thing going.  Those tree branches were far from dead.

Kris attempts to hang the hook from the center of the structure.  Almost has it.

She loves her picture being taken.

Just about finished with the gazebo. . .

Guess which child this is.  Go ahead.  Guess.

The neighbors must have LOVED me today. . .

Taking a break (and yes, I'm aware my lawn shoes are gross.)

Finished product (though Kris and I later this weekend went out and bought a set of black-and-white matching chair cushions - I'm sure you'll see pics of those in May's installment of monthly randoms.)

Not a lot of smoke now - after hours of burning trees, I had a solid bed of coals going.  Anything that fell into that pit of death instantly caught on fire.

Spied the girls 'fighting' in the backyard - I took this of the two of them screwing around from inside the kitchen.

Spotted.

After dinner, we decided to play some cards with the girls under our newly-assembled gazebo.  I honored the occasion with one of my all-time favorite beers.

The dogs love the recently-mowed grass (while my rider was being worked on by the folks over Ace Hardware, I had to push mow the entirety of the property - takes about two frickin' hours.)

I hate this game.

Umm. . . time to play a new game.

This squirrel fell out of the tree once and the dogs almost got him.  He then clamored up this super-thin branch - a mere seven feet off the ground - that was on the verge of snapping under his considerable girth.  This squirrel must eat babies or something.

The girls wanted to 'do my hair' while we were winding down from cards.  Not sure if I'm gonna keep my hair like this or not.

Later that evening, winding down with our usual couch hang-out in front of the TV.  Definitely deserved after a day toiling way in the yard, I'll say that much.

- Brian

The Horseshoe on Fire, and Other Halloween Tales

Happy Halloween, America!

Establishing headquarters in the Johnsons' driveway. . .

Like we've done the last few years, this Halloween we went a block or two over to Sweetbrier Terrace, where the Johnsons hold their annual Trick or Treat the Horseshoe.  The 'Horseshoe' symbolizes the U-shaped, enclosed streets of Sweetbrier, Highbrook, and Westbrier, which are chock-full of youthful families that are all big on Halloween and hand out tons of candy for kids.  This neighborhood feels like the 1980s, with kids clogging the street and running around from door-to-door in wild packs, just like you see in the movies.

The neighbor across the street had a HUGE smoke machine going. . . 

It's pretty awesome.

We've mentioned it before or time or two, but for this much-more-tame follow-up to our own Halloween Party, the Johnsons put out a spread of food in their garage, drag a fire pit onto their driveway, set up some chairs, and blast music all evening.  They hand out candy to all the kids that swing by, and offer beers and waters to the accompanying adults.  It only lasts for a couple hours - because Trick or Treating is only from 6 - 8pm, and it almost always falls on a frickin' school night - but it's a nice end cap to the month, for sure.

So here you go, folks - one more post for the month of October.

(You're welcome.)

Waiting to set out for candy - Ella, Harper, Ella's cousin Hazel, and Abby

The smoke from that guy's smoke machine (fog machine, whatever it was) rolled down the entire block, billowing across front yards as far as the eye could see.

Meanwhile, a few blocks away, over on Bellaire Street, Alayna and her group of friends assembled over at her friend Cristina's house to go Trick or Treating (you know, because Alayna is 'old' now and doesn't like hanging out with her family anymore.)

Recreating that one Spiderman meme (off the Internet, I'm told) with her co-Spidermen, Cristina and Lexi.

About ready to set out into the neighborhood (you can spot a handsome guy in the background, off to the left.)

Not sure who Kris is talking to, here. . .

With Gabby, Ava, and. . . someone with a 'C' on their face for some reason. I don't get it, maybe they're trying to be funny or something.  Sorry for the quality of this pic - someone texted it to Kris and I got it off her phone.

Back on Sweetbrier, the smoke was getting out of control. . .

. . . to the point that the City Fire Department was called in to put out a 'fire.'  Seriously.

I guess a neighbor down the street called the fire department, due to all the smoke (not their fault, they didn't know what was going on), and you could clearly see the smoke rising from a few blocks away.  That must've been one hell of a smoke machine. . .

They were definitely threading a needle coming down this narrow side street, cars parked along both sides of the road, in their giant-ass emergency trucks.  Gave me a little anxiety watching the big rigs squeeze past my car (fortunately it didn't side-swipe it.)

(Kris is having the time of her life watching all this unfold.)

More fire trucks - including the big rigs - roll in to 'save the day.'  Basically they rolled in, ascertained that it was just some overly-zealous reveler, and had him shut off his smoke machine.  Definitely a first for this neighborhood. . .

My brother, Chris, and his fam had asked to Trick or Treat with us this evening (since they live out in the country and don't have 'neighborhoods,' per se), so we invited them out to the Johnsons.  As they have little kids and everything, their time was limited, so they parked about a block away and began trick-or-treating their way towards where we were all set up.  By the time they reached us, the chaos of the fire trucks was in full swing, which my nephews (Louis and Sam) definitely got a kick out seeing all the sirens and flashing lights.

After the smoke, fire trucks, extended family, and trick or treaters all dispersed, some folks hung out around the fire for a bit longer in order to have one more drink and get some more food.  The Collier and Griffin families showed up right at the end (like they did last year), and we all hung out with them for about a half an hour or so before I ended up driving Abby home (she had to get a shower in before bed, and it was pushing 9pm already.)

My nightcap for the evening (one of my favorite Halloween beers.)  We let the kids stay up until about 10pm or so, eating candy and watching old Treehouse of Horror episodes from The Simpsons on Disney+.  Another Halloween in the books, folks - see ya next time.

- Brian

The Houghs' 500th Episode: An Ol' Timey Hootenanny

Alayna and her posse, pumped and ready for action.

Let me tell you this much, guys:  there's absolutely no way in Hell I would ever teach Elementary School.

I don't mind little kids, but having to wrangle a bus-load of them around for a day?  That's unbridled chaos, folks.  And there's no way I could do that on a day-in, day-out basis.

As a registered volunteer at my kids' school, I occasionally get asked to do things like chaperone class field trips and crap like that.  I try and do it at least once a year 'cause it makes my kids' day to have their dad tag along with their class somewhere (for example, last year I went with Alayna's 1st grade class trip to Green Meadows Farm in Kissimmee.)  Well, this year, Kris signed me up to accompany Alayna's 2nd grade class field trip to the Bradley House here in Midland, followed by a park outing and a trip out to the Midland Chippewa Nature Center.

As usual, I'll fill you in as we go along.  Let's do this.

Our tour guide, introducing us to the Bradley House.  This house was originally constructed by the Bradleys, who were among Midland's first settlers.  They had money.

The house originally stood downtown at the corner of Ashman and Larkin Street, but was lifted off its foundation and moved in 1970 when faced with demolition.  The Midland Historical Society bought the house for $1 (seriously), moved it to its current location (back in the woods behind the hospital, thereabouts), and restored it.

Not sure what those other buildings are:  we didn't go in them.  They did look 'ol timey,' though.

The stable, or carriage house (whatever its called) 

They ended up splitting the class into two groups, so our group hit up this place first while the other group went inside the main house first.  Here, our tour guide had each kid in the group walk up and jump off the coach step (what you would step up onto when boarding a carriage, etc.)

Alayna had initially refused wearing her jacket off the bus, but after ten minutes outside in the Spring air, she began to get cold, so I let her wear my hoodie vest.  

Checking out some old carriages (or coaches - I honestly don't know the difference)

Antique hipster bikes. 

Rolling up some beeswax candles (Alayna and I decided that this would make a cool Mother's Day gift for Kris.)

Some sleighs

The Bradley coach is the fancy blue one with all the frills (frill denotes wealth, I guess - who knows.)

After the carriage house, our guide let the kids try out some stick-and-hoop game in the courtyard while the other group made its way further through the Bradley House.  Needless to say, these kids really, really sucked at it.

The Cannonball busts out her famous Old Lady impression. 

The main receiving room of the Bradley House.  I was informed by the tour guide that none of the pieces of furniture or decor were actually owned by the Bradley family, but rather donated or acquired from antique shops, local businesses, estates, donors, etc. 

In the foyer

Through the main receiving area our guide led us back into the parlor, where all the musical instruments were found. . . 

The Parlor

Alayna tries out an Antique ViewMaster (no, I have no idea what it's actually called.)

An original phonograph, that surprisingly still works.  Our guide played some antique 'records' (more like scrolls that rotate on a spindle, though) for us.  Marches seem to have been the prominent musical choice of the day. 

(That's the Receiving Room to the left.)

Some more instruments (you can see a mandolin and a dulcimer atop the piano, there.) 

Through the Parlor, we were then led into what was definitely my personal favorite room of the house:  the Gentleman's Room (also known as Mr. Bradley's Office.)  No girls - except for the maid - were ever allowed in this room.  Which, to be honest, is just a really, really awesome rule to begin with.

That's a bad ass bookcase, right there.  Lots of antique books inside, too. 

Our tour guide introduces young children to the magical world of cigars, brandy, spittoons, and ledgers.

Speaking of ledgers:  these date from the 1870s.  Still boring to read.

I want a room like this in our next house. 

After we left the 'office,' we snaked our way back to the foyer and continued through to the Dining Room. . .

The Kitchen, or, Mrs. Bradley's Office

An Ol' Timey toaster and some irons.

The daughter's room, upstairs (I think her name was Baby Mae. . .?)

Showing the kids some little kid dresses from the 1880s. . . 

The parents' bedroom.  Straight out of a haunted house.

Women's hair accessories on a dresser.

Describing the bathing process to the class.  Pretty gross stuff.

Alayna and her classmate, Katie, got to try out the maid's bed and give the straw-and-spring mattress a comfort rating.

A floral wreath. . . made of HUMAN HAIR.

A class picture on the front steps of the Bradley House.

(This was my idea.)

We left the Bradley House around 11:30 and drove over to Emerson Park for a quick lunch.  The class had ordered Subway, and some other parents had previously agreed to meet the class there in order to drop off the food (I'm assuming so the bus didn't have to stop at Subway.)

Chowin' down (that's Alayna's teacher, Mrs. Larson, in the grey hoodie.)

Alayna and her BFF, Madison

Burning off calories after lunch

Alivia, Alayna and Madison - these three loved getting their picture taken.

I guess this is the cool thing to do on the school playground slide.  Or so I'm told. 

Arriving at the Chippewa Nature Center, overlooking the Tittabawassee River (I'm not sure how to frickin' spell that.)

Checking out some sheep before heading on to the farm. . . 

A historically-accurate, non-authentic farmer's cabin.  This was built in the 1970s or 80s, and, like the Bradley House, was filled with period-accurate antiques to give you an idea of how people of Midland lived back in the 1880s.  Unlike the wealthy Bradleys, the Sinclair Farm showed how average Middle Class Midlanders dwelled.

Lookin' out the back door. . .

The Sinclair kitchen

 

The main room of the Sinclair house. . .

Another one of those antique ViewMasters.  When you look through the lens, it works exactly the same way - it looks like the images are three-dimensional.

The Cannonball

"Let me tell you kids about the '60s. . ."

Alayna spins some wool yarn

The Midland Fire Department was doing a controlled burn not far from the farm, which, consequently, made everything smell like a campfire.

Checking out the barn and the workshop

Drillin' 

The Workshop

Charging into Battle (I really want to photoshop this pic) 

Another carriage house (you can see one of Alayna's classmates here doing a great Young Brian Hough impression.)

This was getting on everyone's nerves after awhile. . . 

Checking out the farm's one cow.  Most of the farm's animals would be arriving the following weekend, as the Historical Society receives animals on loan from local farms for the summer months.

Looking back towards the Barn

The kids were pretty pissed they couldn't hold the chickens, as they had just arrived from another farm and were too little and cold to be handled (all they wanted to do was crowd together under the heat lamp, pictured here.) 

The Sinclair Farm 

Heading off towards the Root Cellar

I wouldn't mind building something like this, but I'd turn it into a Hobbit Home instead of just a Root Cellar. . .

Right when I walked into this dark, creepy room a spider bit me on the back of the neck.  I didn't want to say anything out loud, though:  shortly afterwards, the tour guide had us shut the door and all the kids had to stand in the pitch-black cellar and try and look for the air ventilation holes.  Not the kind of environment you want to scream "SPIDER!" in.  That's like shouting "FIRE!" in a crowded movie theater. 

Hammin' it up for the camera.  As usual.

She really wanted me to take this picture.  'Cause that's what seven-year-olds think is cool.

(That's the chicken coop off to the left.)

Back on the bus, heading back towards Chestnut Hill and the 21st century.  And a beer.

- Brian