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A long time ago, I was a child. (I started out as Cathy First from Colon, Mi.) For the past several years I’ve been an adult. A lot of things went on between those two stages of life; probably no more or no less than anyone elses. My husband and I moved to “da U .P” from southern Lower Michigan several years ago (yes we were trolls at one time). We owned and operated and operate Clementz’s Northcountry Campground and Cabins just north of Newberry, Michigan until May 2015. We have grown kids and grandkids (who all live downstate). My passion is life and all that Nature has to offer us and trying to photograph it in unique ways. Our intention in life is to see all that Nature has to offer us. We hope that you will be a part of our adventures as we cruise through our lives together. Come back often!

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

SURPRISE, SURPRISE, SURPRISE!!!

With Dan still in Milwaukee, that means that I have to get the campfire wood out for guests who want to purchase wood. Normally I have the easy part; I take the money and Dan does the "dirty work".

Such was the case last night. The sun FINALLY came out about 7 p.m. and so did the campers who wanted to build a campfire and make S'mores. The smell of campfires filled the air which in turn made me yearn to go camping. Do you know how hard it is to own a campground and not be able to go camping???

Anyway, I digress...the 2nd trip out to the wood bin was going well. The man and I were chatting as I pulled out split wood to carry out to the "bunk" that we put the wood in. I happened to look down before picking up my next chunks of wood and there was a snake! we both were startled, but I DO think his mouth and teeth looked larger than mine (the snake I mean, not the man)! I did my stationary dance of panic and he slithered into the rest of the wood. The man also did a panic dance but I don't think he was quite sure WHY he was doing it. I suppose he was trying to play it safe or just trying to keep up with what he thought might be a Yooper, wood gathering tradition.

Boy I'll be glad when that man of mine gets home...which MIGHT be tonight instead of tomorrow!!

This has nothing to do with being surprised, getting surprised or surprises at all, but the other day some one asked me how I came up with the name for my blog. I told her that I had tossed around a couple of choices; Cathy's Corner being one of them. THAT name reminded me of the punishment I use to receive as a kid; go sit in the corner. This happened so many times that my Dad made a sign and stuck there, yep, Cathy's Corner. Nah, not really...but he could have!!

I can't remember what some of the other choices were, but I ended up with Yooper Yarns. Yooper should be obvious why that choice, but then I realized that some people don't think of Yarns in the sense that I do. See, I'm not a crafty person. I don't sew, I staple and tape. So I thought of it as "story telling"...spinning a yarn...which also can refer to story telling. So, it became Yooper Yarns.

The title of my blog DID put me in touch with someone who use to own a business in Newberry but had moved to Idaho after selling their motel. Nancy WAS into yarn and crafty things....I never knew this about her until she put a comment on my blog one day. She had been doing a search for things to do with yarn and up came Yooper Yarns. She had no idea it was my site until she clicked on the link to arrive here.

I wonder how many other crafty people have been surprised (or disappointed??) when they clicked on that link??

2 comments:

  1. I'm here without Tom and I've been learning a few things. I'm embarrassed to say I wasn't sure how to start the lawn mower. I even couldn't get the top off the gas can. But I got through it and just got the lawn all mowed-with the push mower because I don't know how to run the zero turner. I want a lesson from Tom next week!

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  2. SBW, YOUR comment reminds me of a mower story I need to work on!

    Aside from that, sometimes NOT knowing is a GOOD thing! Now he'll expect ya to mow! I love our zero turning radius old rider,but it is worse than a buckboard going across a plowed field.

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