Mark My Words

Well, well, well. Would you look at that?

After blogging here for 16 years, 7 months, and 10 days (but who’s counting?), I’ve finally been Freshly Pressed. If I knew all it took was dressing like a dork, I’d have bought mosquito mesh netting ages ago.

Needless to say, I am humbled and honored. A little recognition is always nice! Granted, a little cash to go along with that recognition would be even nicer, but sadly, that’s not how this Freshly Pressed business works.

Regardless, I’ll enjoy my 15 minutes of fame while they last. Thank you for the accolades, WordPress. And welcome to any new subscribers. I’d like to assure you this is a safe space, but I’d be flat-out lying. This space is anything but safe. Mark My Words is the wild, wild west, baby! Anything goes here. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

J/K. Thanks for following along.

Toast, then toasting the day away

It’s a bittersweet morning ’round MarTar Manor. We dropped Audrey and Anna off at the airport bright (hazy if you want to get technical) and early this morning, bidding them farewell after a brief but truly enjoyable 72-hour visit.

They arrived early Thursday morning, and after a quick trip to Toast in Milwaukee for breakfast, we took it easy, as they were coasting on very little sleep after a red eye flight from Portland. We gave them a tour of our house and property, then spent the rest of the day hanging out on the back deck, catching up and consuming adult beverages. This is Wisconsin, and we wanted to give them the full experience, don’tcha know. Audrey may be 26 now, but drinking alcohol with someone whose diapers you once changed feels a bit like a novelty. I wonder if that feeling ever goes away?

(Mom, does that feeling ever go away?)

Tara made fish tacos and we listened to music as the sun went down. The kids saw their first-ever lightning bugs, an exciting experience no matter your age. The mosquitoes finally chased us inside after dark, but by then everyone was ready to hit the hay anyway.

Metal madness and a memorable meal

Friday, we grabbed an early lunch at our favorite local Irish pub and browsed through a couple of antique shops before hitting the road for points west and north. Our first stop was Dr. Evermor’s Sculpture Park, aka, my first-ever Wisco Wednesday feature.

Yes, it was just as trippy as our first visit. Everyone was impressed.

The sculpture park is nowhere near home–it’s a good 90-minute drive–but we were headed to the Wisconsin Dells anyway. Tara’s birthday is tomorrow, and our tradition is celebrating with a supper club meal. She usually likes to try someplace new, and this year, Tara chose The Del Bar.

Great choice, but then again, we’ve yet to be disappointed. The Del Bar is a classic Wisconsin supper club; open since 1943, it features lots of wood and cozy dim lighting, plush seating, and some damn good food, most of which is locally sourced. Tara and I are big fans of kumamoto oysters and were excited to see them on the menu; they’re popular on the West Coast but much harder to find in the Midwest, so we shared a half-dozen as an appetizer. The kids weirdly weren’t into the idea of raw mollusks and opted for Swedish meatballs instead. All our entrees were fantastic; pan fried perch for me, Shrimp De Jonghe for Tara, a braised prime short rib for Anna, and a grilled pork chop for Audrey. We were stuffed to the gills by the time we left, but that didn’t stop us from bringing dessert home, because that’s why boxes were invented, right?

Bobbling on over to Plan B

Saturday, we had to pivot. Our original plan was to spend the day in Madison, but last week’s deadly police shooting (sigh) put a kibosh on that. The farmers market was closing early and protests were planned around Capitol Square; we didn’t know how chaotic it might be and didn’t want to take any chances, so I suggested Milwaukee instead.

As far as Plan Bs go, this one turned out to be a solid choice.

You can’t leave Wisconsin without trying fried cheese curds, and we’d planned on taking them to The Old Fashioned in Madison, home of our favorite curds. I’m less familiar with the curd scene in MKE, but a bit o’ googling led me to Lakefront Brewery, a craft beer hall right on the Milwaukee River. Pretty cool ambience, and the curds–rated the Best in Milwaukee for the past eight years–were awesome.

Next, we drove to a place that had been on my Wisco bucket list for years: the National Bobblehead Hall of Fame and Museum.

What can I say? I love me some kitsch, and this place delivered. I don’t want to go into too much detail, because this’ll make a perfect future Wisco Wednesday post, but suffice it to say, we spent nearly two hours exploring the museum. With a collection of over 10,000 bobbleheads and counting, it’s easy to get lost in there.

We completed a scavenger hunt, searching the racks for various bobbleheads based on clues, and finally (after a hint) figured out Where’s Waldo. So much fun!

Don’t worry, this isn’t a spoiler; they move him around all the time.

Up until now, the weather during their visit had been ideal: upper 70s, an occasional light breeze, very comfortable. But Saturday afternoon, the wind shifted to the south, bringing in some heat and humidity. This was a novelty to our West Coast guests, who described the air using words like heavy, thick, and (my personal favorite) moist.

This didn’t deter us from making one final stop: Grant Park, and a short jaunt along the Seven Bridges Trail to the shore of Lake Michigan.

“Very ocean-like” was their assessment. I would say that’s spot-on.

By now it was late afternoon and it had been a very busy couple of days, so we made the trek home. Spent the evening watching old home movies and eating gas station pizza. As one does.

Before they left, we asked Audrey what she thought of Wisconsin. She replied with four things that jumped out to her:

1. It’s very green.
2. The cheese curds are amazing.
3. That ocean-that-isn’t-an-ocean is pretty cool.
4. Our house is great–especially the deck overlooking the backyard.

Wisconsin impressed them and they can see why we chose to put down roots here. Were we secretly hoping they might fall madly in love with the upper Midwest and decide to move here, as well? I’d be lying if I said otherwise. But at this stage in their lives, they can’t see themselves ever leaving the PNW.

Then again, I used to say the same thing all the time. Ten years ago, the idea of living in a Great Lakes state would have been preposterous to me…but time has a funny way of screwing with perspectives. You can truly never say never.

In the meantime, we’ll just cherish the hell out of all these great memories we made together.