Of course what remains is only a bit over four months. Still, Michigan's Upper Peninsula is my favorite place to be. We're here now, on our way to our friend's house where I'll make bbq for supper and contentedly listen to stories about mysterious murders. We'll sit on the porch and reach over the rail and pluck fresh raspberries to nibble on while we catch up on each other's recent happenings. Tomorrow, my son and I will hunt and gather the loveliest rocks ever destined to grace a flower bed. Lake Superior may never give up her dead but she is generous with her mineral treasures. A day of bobbing about in Lake Michigan's warm emerald waters will be our final fling here, "Up North," as we all call it...as though Michigan's U.P. needed no other name. It probably does not. Over the years, even my child has seen and done almost every attraction and activity offered in Michigan's other half. Now, we just bask in what no human has manipulated, save the roads to get there. Someday I will reach that mighty Mackinac Bridge, do a u-turn, forget about those other eight months, and declare permanent residency. My son thinks it's a great idea. My husband would rather amputate a finger or two. Hmmm... Wonder if he could still shovel snow???