Since I can remember my family has spent a sizable chunk of our summer vacation at a cottage in Michigan. Many of my early summer months were spent catching frogs, subsisting largely on popsicles and staunchly refusing to wear shoes of any sort. Michigan is my summer escape from any sort of responsibility or expectation.
Our tiny cottage is just outside of Glenn, Michigan – population…not too many. The tiny city is affectionately known as “The Pancake Town” – for a fairly infamous snowstorm decades ago when all of the town’s residents were stranded and for some unknown reason only had pancakes to eat. There is still a functioning one-room schoolhouse and a hardware store that doubles as post office. Think of Stars Hollow, a la Gilmore Girls, and you’re on the right track.
Michigan is my perfect escape – especially after a summer of 40+ hour weeks and a fairly full social calendar. So I spent my Fourth of July on the beach with a beer in one hand, good book in the other. I even fit in a trip to Sunset Junque, my favorite antique store – though “antique” seems a little too kind a descriptor. Sunset Junque is a resting place of sorts, full of discarded window frames, church confessional booths and assorted knick knacks. And while the majority of these “treasures” are left outdoors, exposed to the elements, it’s always worth a visit.
The library has always been a place that I feel at home. Regardless of my age or geographic location, I’ve always felt much more at ease and able to think surrounded by towering rows of books. When I was in elementary school, I was allowed to check out more than the generally allowed number of books each week – most likely because I was averaging two to three trips a week. Then in high school I worked at a public library and essentially got paid to do what I would have done for free: hang around, peruse books and put them back on the shelves.
