It's Sunday so we must be .....

..... going to the Chapel!

Oh the bittersweet memories that linger here. "Bitter" because, seriously, didn't Sunday often seem to be the sunniest day of the week, and,
oh right,
Hofmans didn't swim on the Sabbath. However, Hofmans did regularly fall in.

One year there was a very important Tiger baseball game the outcome of which was to be determined at some point during the evening sermon. Some nameless person devised a kind of morse-code plan with another nameless person that if the Tigers won their game, the second nameless person should drive by and lay on the car horn in one long blare. If the Tigers lost the game, two short blasts on the horn would suffice. (Our thanks to Paul Revere for this ingenious "one if by land, two if by sea" system). We arranged to sit as close to the back of the chapel as possible. In fact, in those days of overflow crowds, we were probably sitting right out on the porch. Oh praise the Lord and sound the timbrels when we heard that long, drawn-out toot from an "anonymous" automobile.

We had some sweet moments at the Chapel, too. Uncle Art Hoogstrate preached often and well and there was an added perk if he was in charge -- we could sometimes pick the hymns. Two hymns we loved were "Bringing in the Sheaves" and "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms". Both of these songs we could sing "double time". When we chimed in on the chorus we would sing double the number of "bringings" and "leanings". Try it when you're in the shower sometime. Great fun.

We were also greatly entertained by mice running around on the rafters and
other people's children being unruly and bad.

1970, Dave Van't Hof

Here's a great shot of my brother Dave
in front of Owen's cottage.
The reason why this moment needed
to be recorded for all eternity
was the fact that he forgot to bring his church shoes
up to the lake so he was forced to wear his tennis shoes.
Oh the HORROR!
He's doing a little soft-shoe shuffle
which was kind of his way of
grovelling for mercy from the older generation.