There’s no place like home. Especially when you know you’ll get to call it home for a while.
Kayaking the Salt River for our anniversary
2014
2019
Ben and I celebrated our fifth anniversary a week ago! We realized that we’ve experienced a lot in our half-decade of marriage. Most notably, we survived Ben’s med school journey. I also survived my master’s program. We moved twelve times, living in two countries and three states. We had a baby. I can’t even remember how many jobs we’ve had.
But the transition is over!
You know, it’s fun to list all the different things we’ve done, but it sure does feel flighty at the same time. We’ve both been reading Grit by Angela Duckworth (Ben had it first and I snag it to read when he’s busy), which talks about how most people who excel in their field stick with things and pursue goals over a long period of time. It doesn’t seem like our lives have really characterized that over the past few years, but in the end, it was all to pursue this thing called an M.D. And now we’re on to the next stage.
Flying home after Ben’s graduation! We were on TV at the San Antonio airport.
When it’s all said and done, it was fun to try a bunch of different things, but I’m glad we’ll be sticking with a routine for a while. We were gritty enough to get through med school, and I think we can be gritty enough to be OK with the daily grind, too.
Little Man will appreciate that, too, I think. We were finally able to get him a crib. At eight and half months old, he’s finally out of the pack-and-play and can depend on sleeping in the same place for more than a few weeks at a time.
Relaxing at home
We also bought a couch. That doesn’t sound too exciting, but to me, it was an indication that we’re staying here for a while and not getting furniture with moving in mind. We’ve never bought a couch before. My parents gave us our first one, and we’ve just had futons and things that came with furnished apartments since then. It was fun to pick one out- and the people who sold it to us at their garage sale invited us over for dinner, too! A couch and new friends in the neighborhood. Doesn’t get better than that.
Living room
We’re actually planting things, too. To be honest, the best I’ve done so far is put some pots in the backyard and grow some chives in the kitchen, but it’s a start. Quite literally, we are “putting down roots.”
Our time in California is affording me all kinds of nice discoveries. I’ve talked about the bluffs and mentioned the hiking. One of the other things I love about our Cali home is the Little Free Library down the street!
Not the LFL in our neighborhood. I feel too awkward to take a photo of someone’s front yard!
If you’re not familiar with Little Free Libraries, get thee to the interwebs to learn how you can experience these wonderful things. Little Free Libraries are tiny houses filled with books that you can take and read, then return or leave at a different LFL. They can be found in front yards, in public spaces, or at businesses.
We aren’t California residents, so I can’t go get a book at a library in town. This was a bummer to me, since I read all the books I packed as well as one I found in our Airbnb room within the first three weeks. I am trying not to get hooked on a Netflix show or watch a lot of YouTube, because I want to limit Little Man’s screen exposure. Besides, I really do like books. And I like pages, so the Kindle app doesn’t always cut it.
Imagine my joy at going on a quick neighborhood walk and discovering a Little Free Library! More books to read! And an excuse to go walking more often.
So far, I’ve read a novel about Princess Di, Maze Runner, All About Sam, and Finding Alaska. I have also found some picture books to read to Little Man.
When I visited Phoenix this week, my mom told me about the LFL that had opened at Rita’s in Glendale! Armed with my free shaved ice birthday coupon, we went to trade in my LFL books for new ones. And get ice cream, obviously.
Now that I have enjoyed two LFLs in two different states, I am determined to find them wherever I go! I wish I’d taken advantage of the ones at the Detroit Riverwalk, but maybe I will get to do that in the future. My dream is to someday have one in my front yard! I’ll keep you posted on my progress of achieving that… First, I need to get a front yard.
February is a significant month for me, for a lot of reasons. First of all, Valentine’s Day (or maybe I prefer February 15th, when all the chocolate goes on sale… let’s be real), and also my birthday are in this month. Secondly, February is congenital heart defect awareness month. CHD has an impact on my life. Not only do Ben’s career plans revolve around helping people with CHD (he wants to be a cardiologist), but my mother-in-law was born with a ventricular septal defect, which is a congenital heart defect. She had surgery a few years ago to correct it, and it was quite the process. Additionally, CHD Awareness Month means a lot to me this year because in 2018, I lost someone to CHD.
You know, I have sat down to write this post so many times. I wrote it in my head every night for a month while I cried silently into my pillow. I have wondered, why do I even need to put these thoughts out on the internet? What purpose is that going to serve? It felt selfish, somehow, to vomit all my grief and guilt and confusion into the digital world. Maybe that’s dumb, but like I said, I’m feeling a lot of confusion and guilt. Does losing someone always involve guilt? So far, it always has for me.
Today, though, it seems like the right day to do this, because today I know it will serve a better purpose. Currently, it’s congenital heart defect awareness week, and telling this story is my way to bring awareness to CHD. In doing so, I think I am doing something that would make Becca glad. And I only want to tell this story if I think that she would like it. Otherwise, it’s not fair.
On October 12, 2018, my friend Becca left broke free from her pain and left the world a little emptier. To me, it seems that her kind heart broke over an unkind world. Medically, it had beat as many times as her tetralogy of fallot would allow. She wasn’t supposed to survive infancy, much less childhood, yet she had lived a few days past her 26th birthday.
I can’t stop thinking how unfair it is to have to say goodbye at 26.
You know, Becca seemed really typical. She was pretty, funny, and ambitious. She didn’t seem like someone who needed to be on oxygen or park in a handicap spot, so people didn’t really understand the big deal about her CDH. I don’t think I really was aware of it for the first couple years I knew her.
I met Becca 15 years ago, when I was eight or nine and she was 10 or eleven. We were in a sign language choir together. I remember one year, we were performing a song about heroes. I wore nurse costume, and told her it was because my grandma had been a nurse. She was wearing a doctor costume, and told me it was because doctors kept her alive despite her heart condition. I was ten at the time, and hospitals were foreign places to me. I don’t think I thought much of it until years later during one of her scarier surgeries. She was never “the kid with the heart condition” to me. She was always just Becca– “You know, Becca with the pretty blonde hair.”
As we entered our high school years, I remember Becca coming to practices lugging an oxygen tank behind her. She would walk in, look around in mock surprise, and declare, “Didn’t you get the memo? It’s B.Y.O.O. night! Bring Your Own Oxygen!” We’d laugh, and get to work.
I stopped going to the choir when I was 14. School was demanding. I didn’t have time for it anymore. But I did keep in touch with Becca by email, and I saw her face on the cover of a medical magazine once. I remember reading it and thinking, wow, this CHD is really big deal. She’s kind of famous in the medical community.
We lost touch for years. I don’t know how. I lost touch with a lot of people as I transitioned from high school to college when I was sixteen. I remember thinking about reaching out during my late teens and, in my immature insecurity, worrying that she wouldn’t want to stay friends with me– after all, I was younger, and she was more popular in our circles, prettier, funnier, more outgoing. It was dumb of me to worry about, since she had been so nice to me during all my awkward middle school years. If fact, she had made the tornado of teenage social crap a lot more manageable with her consistent kindness. But teenagers don’t always think their insecurities through.
Looking back as an adult, I feel a lot of guilt that I didn’t try. Of course people come in and out of our lives, so I don’t know why I feel so guilty. I think mostly, under the guilt, there is sadness. I lost several years I could have had with a friend that I had cared about. I’ve lost touch with a lot of people in my life. Some I have reconnected with, others I have not. I guess I always think that, thanks to Facebook, it will be easy to strike up friendships again once we stop moving all over the place.
As we were planning to move back to Arizona, I thought about the people I’d like to reconnect with. Becca was one of the first people I thought of, so I sent her a Facebook message and we became “official” friends again. I was hoping to see her when I moved back in July.
But by July, Becca was in California in the hospital. She told me in the fall that she wouldn’t get to come back home. That was really hard to hear. We messaged back and forth a bit for the next couple of weeks.
When I went to the hospital to have my baby, I thought about her a lot. I was not enjoying getting stabbed with needles and feeling so much pain and being walked in on all the time. But for me, the hospital stay was short and ended with a baby, joy, and a new lifetime to look forward to. Becca was also experiencing pain, intrusion, and plenty of needles. But her hospital stay was so different, and the end result was the opposite of mine. It made me so sad. It was not fair at all that I got to experience this and have so much to look forward to. Why couldn’t she have the same?
The last conversation I had with her, I sent her a photo of the baby. I wanted to talk with her about something that didn’t have to do with medical stuff, since she probably had to talk a lot about that sort of thing. Then, a few days later, I read her mom’s post on Facebook and all I could do was cry and cry.
I had a really hard time processing everything. Part of me felt like I didn’t have a right to grieve, since I hadn’t seen her in person in almost a decade. I went to her beautiful memorial service but not the reception (even though I would have been welcomed), because I didn’t feel like I had a right to go when I hadn’t been there enough during her life.
I’ve been trying to process this all for the last four months. First, somehow I don’t really understand death. It doesn’t seem real that someone can be here and smile and make memories, and then suddenly they are just gone. I believe in God. I believe in Heaven. I believe people live on after physical death. At the same time, death doesn’t register with me at all.
Secondly, there’s something so wrong about a 26-year-old having to say goodbye to everything and everyone. It’s not fair. CHD is FREAKING NOT FAIR. Have I told God this? Have I questioned Him a lot in the past few months? Yes, I have.
Finally, I have been thinking a lot about the person I am and the kind of person I want to be. I have been dealing with guilt. I have talked to Ben a lot about how I wish I had understood CHD more and how I wished I knew better how to be a good friend to Becca. The idea of visiting her at the hospital when we were younger did cross my mind. But I thought that might be a nuisance, and I didn’t want to be a nuisance. I didn’t realize until I read her blog years later that a hospital visit would have been most welcome. As an adult, and as someone with more understanding of disabilities, I realized a lot of things I could have done differently to be a good friend. When we were both at the state fair, it would have been awesome if I had hung out with her rather than gone running off to enjoy the thrill rides. I didn’t even know that rides were off-limits for her, and I never thought to ask. I could have sent her an email after a procedure to ask how she was doing, but I thought maybe bringing it up was rude, like when someone inappropriately comments on a missing limb. Stupid to think? Maybe, but I didn’t really get it.
So why am I sharing this? Maybe a little bit of it is personal processing. Maybe a little bit of it is regret. But mostly, this is a story of how I was not aware of CHD. I think it’s easy for those of us without much experience with disabilities or sickness to brush off “awareness months.” What does awareness do, right? Shouldn’t we be donating to research or something? Sure. But awareness is important, too. Being aware of CHD, and educating ourselves about them, will help us to relate to people better. It makes us better friends. Becca had a lot of awesome friends who “got it” better than I did. She had a lot of friends — both in the CHD community and out of it– who were educated on CHD. Or maybe they weren’t, and they were just good friends in general. I don’t know. But I do know I personally missed out because I wasn’t as aware of CHD as I might have been.
So the moral of the story is this: be aware of CHD! Don’t be afraid to admit your lack of knowledge so you can learn what life is like in that world. Recognize that heart conditions are often invisible illnesses. Have a friend with CHD? You might need to ask questions– like, can you eat at this restaurant, or should we pick a different one? Can you do this hike? What would YOU like to do? How are you feeling today? Or, you may have to be extra understanding when someone with a CHD has to suddenly cancel or is feeling super low-energy. And don’t be afraid to be there. I am always afraid of being annoying. Don’t worry about being annoying. Be there. Be aware. Be a friend.
Want to learn more about living with CHD? Start here, with Becca’s blog.
Breathlessly, we broke through the trees and cactus patches. Below us, the island spread like a lazy sea otter, floating peacefully on the blue ocean. Above us, we could see the antiquated stones peeking out from among the brambles. We had found it: the lost fortress.
Sound like the beginning to an adventure novel? Well, sometimes living on Sint Maarten felt like being a character in an adventure novel. I didn’t stick to the beaten path much when I lived there, so I often found myself on some old goat trail leading to a lonely summit (fun!), the dump (not fun), or a tangle of poison apple trees (even less fun). Today’s hike, though, led me and my husband, Ben, to the ruins of the island’s original fort.
Fort Willem was the first of three forts built on the island. It was constructed by the British in 1801 to protect the new territory from invading colonists and pirates. Apparently, it wasn’t particularly effective, because not long after, the fort was captured by the Dutch. The Dutch named it Fort Willem, after their king, but didn’t use it for more than a few decades. The fort offered awesome views of the bay, but unfortunately was too high and too far inland to effectively cannonball the enemy. Fort Amsterdam, built near Fort Willem but much closer to the water, was constructed to replace it.
View of Great Bay from Fort Willem
Fort Willem is on every map of the island, and it’s advertised as a fun outing by several websites and tour companies who have apparently never been to Sint Maarten. Just because a location is labeled on a map and it looks close to the tourism district does not mean it’s a great little experience for every tourist. Especially when you’re on an island made of really tall HILLS. Fort Willem is ridiculously hard to find. And you’re guaranteed to end up bleeding in at least one place by the time you reach the fortress.
Giant shoe-penetrating thorns
That being said, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t go anyway! If you like hiking and don’t mind a little adventure, you’ll have a blast hunting for the fort.
How Not to Get There:
I spent weeks asking around about the location of Fort Willem. The map I had wasn’t quite clear about which labeled hill corresponded to the undulating mounds of earth near Philipsburg. But nobody, local or expat, had been there or could tell me where it was. A lot of people didn’t even know what what I was talking about. But I was determined to visit every accessible location labeled on my SXM map (which I eventually did!), so I didn’t give up.
Fort Willem is located on- surprise!- Willem Hill, next to Cay Hill. There are two ways to get to the top. The first way includes near-death experiences and trespassing on a TV tower. This was the way we got up. We parked across from Sonesta Great Bay Resort and followed a winding road- deceptively named Fort Willem Road- up the hill. It was incredibly steep. When we got to the end of the paved road, we followed what started out as a well-worn dirt path. As the path went on, it became narrower and less beaten down. I guess there had been a lot of relic-hunters like us who gave up and went back at this point. They were smarter than us.
The path started to lead us along treacherously steep drop-offs and through tiny gaps in the thorn trees. I don’t even know how we squeezed through while fending off the wasps, but we did.
“I think this is a goat path,” I told Ben, who agreed with me and wondered aloud if we should go back. We decided we might not survive that trip a second time, and continued on. The best part thus far was the STUNNING views of Philipsburg and Pond Island.
If you find yourself here, you’re in the wrong place
Once we’d scrambled up some slippery dirt inclines, followed an ancient boundary wall built by people enslaved by the Dutch, circumnavigated a cactus forest, and bushwhacked through the thick undergrowth, we finally came to what looked like a really old building wall. Finally! We climbed up, and to our dismay, found ourselves on the foundation of a TV tower. Yikes!
At this point, I started worrying that we’d trespassed AGAIN and might get in trouble this time. Vowing to only follow human trails from then on, we got out of the TV tower area as fast as possible.
What did we find on the other side of the tower? Why, a road, of course. A nice, beautiful paved road leading up the side of the hill from the street below.
Armed with this new discovery, and now feeling much better about the trip down, we began to search for the fort.
WE FOUND IT!
To be honest, there’s not much left of Fort Willem. I heard a rumor that some of the stones were used to build Fort Amsterdam once Willem was abandoned. We could now see Amsterdam below us…. hundreds of feet down, it stood like a LEGO structure on the end of its peninsula. Maybe they just rolled the stones down the hill?
Fort Amsterdam
After a few minutes of searching, we finally found the ruins of the wall and battlements of Fort Willem. Overgrown by bushes and invisible from the road below, the wall offers a breathtaking view of the island and the sea. Wow! It did require a climb, but the end result was worth it. We sat on the wall and tried to imagine what it must have been like to man the guns from all the way up here, long before the buildings and cruise ships appeared below.
How to Get to Fort Willem
Now that I’ve described the first way to get up, I should probably tip you off on the second, and far better, way up the hill. The road we found was a much better route. We followed it down and back to our car without incident.
Walking back to our car…. down and around the hill
If you’re going toward Philipsburg from the Simpson Bay area, you’ll go right past the road leading up to Fort Willem. When you get to the part of the road between the hospital and Little Bay, look for Otter Road. Otter joins up with Camel Road, which is the road you need to take.
You’ll find the turnoff on this road
You can drive most of the way up, or park in the neighborhood below and hike up.
Old Battlements
This is definitely one of the most painful and more random excursions available on Sint Maarten. If you’re looking for a cool hike and you only have a few days on the island, go to Pic Paradis or Belvue. If you want to see a fort, go to Fort Amsterdam or Fort Louis. But if you want to go off the beaten path and do some Indiana Jones type exploring, Fort Willem is always waiting for you!
Happy MLK Day to you! For those of us who got it off, it was a very happy day indeed, for everyone else, sorry. Hope you enjoyed all the MLK quotes on social media, either way. I know I did. King had a lot of wise words that transcend the decades.
Today, we spent our day off enjoying a hike outside our town. What an amazing view we had! Kito was able to go off leash, which made her very happy.
Our hike in t-shirts was very different than last year, when we walked the city streets in the swirling snow.
Last year, we were in Southfield, Michigan, which is part of the Detroit metro area. MLK Day is a very big deal there! It was cool to be a part of a community that goes all out to celebrate the amazing Dr. King.
Despite the icy weather, Southfield citizens gather and march through downtown each MLK Day. The march ends at the civic center, where there is a big celebration with speeches, entertainment, and refreshments.
After my early morning classes with VIPKid, Ben and I suited up in our snow clothes and drove through the icy streets to a local church, where the members were passing out coffee and hot cocoa to what appeared to be half of Southfield. There were hundreds of people there! People representing every socioeconomic group, race, religion, and age were packed into the church gym and flowing out the door. Everyone was smiling, even as we stamped our feet to keep our toes from going numb. It goes to show what a big impact MLK had on our society!
We all poured out of the door and began to march down the street, across the bridge, and toward the glass and gold buildings of downtown. Fraternities, churches, and businesses unfurled banners. People laughed and joked together.
The best part, to me, was that this was not a political protest march, but a celebration. In fact, politics were almost totally absent from the while thing. It was about what brings us together, rather than what divides us.
The crowds at the civic center buzzed with conversation until the speeches, songs, and dance performances began. The theme of the year was “Youth are Our Future,” so teens led much of the ceremony. It was awesome.
Our hike this year was wonderful. But I will always savor memories of MLK Day 2018, when we marched alongside our neighbors to celebrate the community made possible by Martin Luther King, Jr.
We are Californians for the next ten weeks! Ben has 67 days of med school left- but who’s counting- and he’s doing it in Kern County.
Not Kern County
Every time I tell someone we’re living in Cali for a while, they get excited about the beach and tell me how awesome it will be to live by the ocean. I guess when you live in Arizona, any proximity to water is exciting. A sad but true bit of Arizona trivia is that real estate with a canal view is expensive.
Actually, though, it’s winter in NorCal. Or is this central Cal? So there’s that. Also, Kern County is sadly nowhere near the beach, and even if it were, I wouldn’t be that excited. After two years of living a five-minute stroll from a Caribbean beach, the cold, sharky waters on the nearest coast aren’t worth the drive more than once or twice. I think I might be ruined forever, as far as beaches go.
My cool dudes in Cali
Beaches aside, it’s kind of fun to live under the bear flag for a while! So far, we’ve been two places. The first is Wal-Mart. We discovered that you have to pay 10 cents per plastic shopping sack here. As inconvenient as that sounds, I was actually kind of glad that we’ll be forced to use our own shopping bags here. In Detroit, where we lived last year, most people apparently hate the environment because there is trash literally everywhere. Not kidding… People on our complex used to chuck their trash bags off the balcony into the trees when they didn’t feel like taking it to the dumpster. We got so sick of it, we started taking reusable bags to the store as a silent protest against littering. Unless we went to Aldi, it was easy to cheat on our resolution… But you better believe that won’t happen here. No way I’m paying for bags.
The second place we went was the Civic Musical Road, which plays “William Tell” when you drive it! It’s so cool! Ben and I were both grinning like little kids on Christmas when we drove over it, turned around, and drove it again.
I didn’t take photos of Wal-Mart, because that would be weird. I also didn’t take pictires of the musical road, since I was driving. But here’s a picture of Kito in our Cali home to hold you over til the next California update!
This book is reminiscent of the compiled sermons of classic theologians. They are presented in a direct, oratory style, and you can almost hear the author’s voice addressing the reader passionately and personally. The text is engaging and punctuated with short illustrations from the lives of influential people, catchy sayings, and humorous anecdotes. Scripture and prose flow together seamlessly.
This devotional is perfect for families, but it’s applicable to any believer. The writing is clear and succinct, conveying practical messages that are alternatively encouraging and convicting. The devotionals are short enough and straightforward enough for children to grasp, but they cut to the heart of issues experienced by adults as well. Topics range from faithfulness to finances and everything in between.
If you only have time for a devotional reading, you can absorb a chapter of the book with your morning coffee. Or, you can sit down with your family at dinner time and expand the devotional with the questions and Bible reading at the end of chapters.
As someone whose life has been deeply influenced by the author of this book, I can testify that From a Pastor’s Heart and Hand is the perfect title for this devotional. Pastor Joe Oswald has spend his years shepherding congregations, children, P.E. classes, and youth with both loving guidance and hands-on engagement.
From a Pastor’s Heart and Hand flows from this discipleship, which is at the heart of Christian teaching and leadership. For this reason, this book is sure to impact your life in a small way each day and for the rest of your life. Years after reading it, you may find yourself engaging in “Thankful Thursday” prayer or reminding yourself that “when you point a finger at others, four are still pointing at yourself.”
You can get this book on Amazon in either print or Kindle format. If you don’t have a devotional for the New Year, why not make a strong start with From a Pastor’s Heart and Hand?
Have you ever read the classic children’s story Blueberries for Sal? I have, probably a hundred times or more. Ever since I was a little kid flipping through the mid-century monochromatic illustrations in the book, I have wanted to go blueberry picking. I didn’t even like blueberries as a kid (they seemed like big, purple peas to me, and who likes peas?), but I wanted to hear the “plink, plink” of blueberries dropping in a bucket.
Arizona doesn’t exactly have an abundance of blueberry patches. Michigan, however, does! We moved to Michigan after blueberry season had ended last year, but berry picking stayed on my list until July.
When Ben’s brother Jesse, sister-in-law Joy, and their boys Zach, Micah, and Elliot came to visit from Africa, I wanted to do some fun quintessential Michigan activities. Something really different than the activities you can do in sub-Saharan Africa. So, I suggested we take a trip to a u-pick blueberry farm. I guess it was a little it selfish, because it was something on MY to-do list for the summer! Luckily for me, it was also on their “America bucket list,” and so we loaded up in the car and off we went. As a bonus, Ben mentioned to his supervising resident that his brother was visiting from overseas, and, on a whim, the resident gave Ben a rare half day to come with us. How lucky is that?
We decided to go to Dexter Blueberry Farm, which is fairly close to Detroit.
It was a great choice! The farm’s u-pick arrangement is pretty casual. You walk up, grab a shiny red bucket, and head to a sprawling field of blueberry bushes to fill your bucket. Plink! Plink!
Of course, we were all more interested in filling our bellies than we were in filling our buckets. Chilled blueberries in a grocery store carton are yummy. Sun-warmed blueberries from the bush are simply decadent. Like, close-your-eyes-and-savor-it decadent.
Somehow, we did manage to collect enough berries in the buckets! A few pounds of consumed berries and a blueberry war later (I won’t tell you who started it, but his name is spelled B E N), we had filled our buckets and were ready to check out.
At Dexter Blueberry Farms, u-pick berries are $2 per pound. Compare that to supermarket prices! In the end, our massive amount of blueberries only cost $20. I guess it makes sense that berries in the store are more pricey, because picking those berries is actually a lot of work. It’s a lot of fun for an afternoon, but I imagine it’s a pretty intense full-time job.
It can be hard to find activities that adults and kids ages eight through 13 enjoy, but blueberry picking was a winner. Plus, we ended up with a massive amount of blueberries that tasted amazing in cereal, ice cream, and snacks for a couple of weeks.
Picking blueberries was the perfect way to spend a summer afternoon!
Visit Dexter Blueberry Farm
When to visit: Blueberry season is in July
Address: 11024 Beach Road, Dexter, MI 48130
Phone number: 734.426.2900
Cost: Blueberries are $2 per pound. Eat all you want for free!
Good things to know: Wear sunscreen! The sun can get intense. Hand sanitizer or wipes are a good idea, since you’ll be eating out of your hands as you pick. Also, there are only porta-potties at the farm.
It’s that time of year…. you know, when all the moms are posting cute photos of their kids holding Pinteresty signs announcing what grade they are about to begin. Not to be outdone, I was sure to take a photo of my (very cooperative) husband on his first day of med school year four:
Folks, this is the last first day of school for him. Ever. Twenty-plus years of school is enough. Next year, I’ll have him post for a “first day of work as a doctor” photo. But I probably won’t ask him to hold a sign.
I decided to find his other “first day of school” photos. I took them every year, usually chasing him out the door at the last minute because I just remembered I wanted a picture. His first year of medical school, we actually got a pretty nice photo for the first day of school, which was his white coat ceremony:
I’m not positive which photo is the “first day” photo from med school year 2, but here’s a photo from that year:
You can see Kito is enjoying her favorite perch, which is always behind Ben in whatever chair he happens to be sitting in.
Here’s last year, the third year of medical school, with his white coat freshly ironed on his way to his first family medicine rotation at the clinic:
And, of course, I can’t forget to do a throwback to his first day of college. This picture is provided by his Aunt Barb, who dropped him off at school not long after he arrived in Arizona from Tanzania.
Hard to believe that was almost ten years ago, in 2009!
So, what does 20th grade look like for Ben? Well, for the first four weeks, he has a subinternship rotation in internal medicine. He works 60-some hours a week over six days. I’m not going to lie, I was pretty sad to lose that Saturday with him. BUT- they aren’t requiring any overnight on-call shifts, so that is a major benefit. He doesn’t get “paternity leave,” since he’s a student, but fortunately he can take a couple of days when the baby is born. I’m hoping the baby decides to make his grand debut on one of Ben’s days off. Baby is due September 26, during his last week on this rotation, We’ll see if he comes on time or early. Or late– who knows?
After that, we’re not sure what Ben’s schedule will be. I figure that all of the rotations will probably be pretty intense, but at this point it’s just about getting through everything until April, when he’ll finish his last rotation. He just took the 9-hour USMLE Step 2 exam two weeks ago, which means no massive exams to study for this year! Phew!
After so much school, it’s hard to believe Ben’s almost done. It will be pretty weird to have neither of us in school for the first time ever! But it will also be pretty awesome.
One of the best things about living in Michigan is the availability of fresh produce. And I’m not just talking about dirt-cheap local peaches at Meijer, although those are amazing. I’m talking about the endless u-pick farms that offer everything from apples to asparagus to strange fruits I have never even heard of.
During my year in Michigan, I visited u-pick farms as often as possible. One fruit-picking season that I was particularly excited about was cherry season.
Cherry season just happened to peak during the time that Ben’s sister’s family was visiting, so I drove them out of the city to a cherry farm for some classic summertime fun. Ben had to work, so he missed out on the fun, but he did get to enjoy the result of our visit.
Westview Orchards in Washington, Michigan is the place to go with kids! Of course, my two nephews were perfectly entertained by picking (well, okay, eating) fresh cherries off the tree, but there were also plenty of other things for them to do, including a hay maze, a unique playground, and a petting zoo.
As far as fun experiences go, though, the cherries really take the cake. We pulled in to Westview Orchards the morning of cherry season’s opening day, and we were greeted by enthusiastic employees who seemed just as excited for the cherries as we were. The gentleman who monitored the picking itself was very helpful, pointing out the different cherry varieties in the orchard and giving fruit selection tips.
My nephews had a great time in the orchard, exploring the unique tastes of each tree’s fruit, climbing ladders, and choosing favorite trees. Even we adults had a hard time filling our bags faster than we could eat the cherries!
After a picnic lunch and ice cream, we headed home to bake a cherry pie.
I helped Annette pit the cherries, and she made the best cherry pie I have ever had. The perfect end to a great day on the farm!
Visit Westview Orchards
When to visit: Cherry season is in June, but Westview Orchards offers u-pick almost year-round.
Address: 65075 Van Dyke, Washington, MI 48095
Phone number: (586) 752-3123
Cost: Cherries are about $8 per person, which includes entrance fee and a bag to fill with cherries
Good things to know: Outside food, backpacks, and large bags are not permitted. I was able to take in my backpack camera case without a problem, however.
Breana Johnson 