So despite difficulties I did get a solid plan for meeting up with my brother and his family, to spend a couple hours at the University of Michigan's Museum of Natural History. I haven't been there since they moved to the new, modern, less interesting building. ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bunnyhugger was not able to go, as she had a commitment to work at the bookstore; as it turned out, they wanted to meet early enough in the day --- fitting their drive from Detroit to Wisconsin --- that had we hustled a little maybe she could have made it. But she'd have had to get up early and we'd have had to have a lot of things go right, including spending less time in the museum and much less time stuck in traffic.
This was the first time I've seen my brother, or his wife or nieces, in person since we gathered for my aunt's funeral in 2018. So right away it was off to a better start. The kids have reached middle school and high school ages, although I was still able for example to stymie Younger when she looked over a cast of a dinosaur's head and, observing the missing teeth, pointed out she had lost 14 teeth herself, and saying that I thought that made her sound careless. Younger also displayed an interest in knowing whether the adults thought various dinosaurs were cute or not (her mother was on the not-cute side of nearly everything). Also in evaluating dinosaurs to see whether we could beat them. I did ask ``beat them in what'', but she wasn't taking that bait.
My nieces were curious about what it's like to grow up with so many siblings, and what I remembered of life before their father was born. I had to admit, I didn't remember anything from when I was that young. (It's a question I could not have thought to ask my parents or uncles or aunts: both my mother an father were the oldest children.) Older wanted confirmation of the story that before our youngest sister was born, their father had said he hoped the new child would be ``a giraffe''. I could attest that yes, this was true: I hoped for a girl, our middle brother a boy, and the youngest, their father, a giraffe, which I agree would have been the most interesting choice. Also Older mentioned how she's started a new instrument, the baritone. The baritone what, you may ask, as I did. Just the baritone.
We did not explore the whole of the museum. I didn't even get to see if they still had a weirdly judgemental view of squirrels (the old museum had text explaining how squirrels were among the most primitive of rodents, a view I guess was valid in 1938 or whenever its old text was written). But as a person who's more than once hung around a museum until over a half-hour past its closing time that's probably for the best. I also caused some delay when I pointed out the jigsaw-puzzle Pangaea puzzle in one of the activity rooms, prompting Younger- to spend enough time failing to put continents in their place that her father started to just tell her where to put North America already. Younger was of the opinion all the continental plates ``look like America'', which does complicate placement.
Afterwards, seeking my recommendations for a place to eat in Ann Arbor, I named Ashley's and they agreed that looked like it should have stuff kids could eat. This was boneless chicken wings and a burger, plus nachos with queso, although they did try a couple of the Stilton fries I got, at my recommendation. (Their parents did not.) They were also canny enough to pick up fries stuck by the melted cheese to more fries, but were gracious enough to let me unpeel the surplus fries from the one they really wanted.
Also I got my father in future trouble, by telling the story of the time he told us boys that if we jumped off the high diving board he'd buy us ice cream, and we overcame our fear to do it. Afterwards, he declared that he had already bought us ice cream, earlier in the day, so his part of the deal had already been satisfied. Neither of my nieces were happy with my father's action that one summer day in like 1985 so he's sure to hear about it when they talk next. I should maybe give him a heads up. Also, their mother felt the need to explain that I was exaggerating when I said the diving board was about 2,500 feet high and airplanes had to divert around it, as they seemed to be accepting that sure, yeah, you see diving boards that high in the cartoons so that would happen. I choose to believe they were going along with the gag and their mother was worrying for nothing.
Older also wanted to know if her dad's hair had ever been blond, and I said that I believe it was when he was very young. Did I remember when it turned black? ... No, I'm afraid I don't. And did I ever wish that I didn't have their dad as a brother? There, no, no, I didn't. Their other uncle yes, but not their father.
So I'm glad I had the chance to see everyone. Would have preferred that they been willing to divert like an hour north and see me closer to home, although not literally at home since it's not really big enough for that many guests at once. They're also going to drive back home, of course, although since they don't plan to stop in Detroit on the way back they probably will be even farther from here. Guess I'll catch them in another five years.
Now to look at Saturday afternoon at Anthrohio. The first event?
The cake decorating contest! Here it's in prep, waiting for icing to be distributed and people to arrive and all.
And here we are, at work, spreading icing on and somehow everybody else doing better at crafting lines and stuff.
Our figure: a bunny looking at a UFO that kind of looks like a Christmas ornament from the 60s.
And here's our finished cake, alongside some of the other early finishers. Note the starship Enterprise in bagel and hot dog buns there.
More of the finished cakes, with, on the right, one that went way overboard in using Oreos and crushed Graham crackers for a pattern that has nothing to do with the theme of Space Or Whatever.
Here, other people take more time to finish their decoration.
Trivia: The Skylab 3/2 astronauts installed a twin-boom sunshade during an EVA on the 6th of August, 1973, after which the cabin temperature for the space station stayed around 68 to 75 degrees Fahrenheit reliably. Source: Skylab: A Chronology, Roland W Newkirk, Ivan D Ertel, Courtney G Brooks. NASA SP-4011.
Currently reading: Lost Popeye Zine Volume 25: Popeye and Paradise Peak, Part 2, Tom Sims, Bela Zaboly. Editor Stephanie Noelle.
