It was cold enough at night that evenings were spent wrapped in blankets. I doubt there was much argument about bedtimes at Baker's Acres. We would have played ourselves into a near-comatose state of exhaustion.
I remember the womenfolk being concerned because a family of chipmunks had taken up residence under one of the porches. Later we learned some of the menfolk had been feeding them all week.
Ten little Indians. We don't need no stinkin' sunscreen! (Or so we thought...) Once again, shirts are optional for the many of the girls of summer. Aunt Sonia (we called her Aunt Tootsie) is eager to feed us birthday cake, because we are all clearly wasting away.
I wish we knew who the cheapskate was who wouldn't spring for color film! Luckily, these B+Ws are razor-sharp. The water was very shallow for a long ways out; maybe that's why we were allowed to play for hours, virtually unattended. Beach balls, inflatable rings, and paddle boards kept us busy in the water. Buckets and shovels were all that was needed for playing in the sand. Simpler times.
And I think that concludes the Traverse City memoirs, unless someone else scans more photos.
Monday, May 18, 2009
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