Blue Horizon

We Are Waiting

2012-01-18T16:26:00.000-08:00

.... we have not forgotten

A letter written by Grandma (Jennie) Hofman,
August 28, 1956:

"Dear All,
Greetings from 747 Fuller,

After spending 2 weeks at Big Star
we arrived home about 2:30 Saturday afternoon.
We had a nice time. The last week the weather was perfect, warm and sunny....
9 families left yesterday.
Marge said she doesn't remember ever so many going home at the same time...
Judy Kae is feeling better. I sure felt sorry for her,
she was sick most of the time.
Mildred got a shot out there too for a sore throat,
their Dr. bill was $24.00 ....
Don took the trailer and Ade's car back and also
got a cottage for when Don and those other fellows go deer hunting..."

Dave , Mickie & Judy Kae VH on the lawn of 747
with First PR church in the background.

Three Guesses

2011-10-24T17:59:00.001-07:00

Seen from the street , we just had to investigate!

"If you come to a fork in the road, take it."
Yogi Berra

Whaaaaaat?

Hint #1:

De-mossified

Hint #2:

De-classified

Hint #3:

De-mystified

The new BP (Hint #4, not British Petroleum).

And, another amazing then and now ....

Which is YES!

2011-09-04T16:42:00.000-07:00

"I thank you God for this most amazing day,

for the leaping greenly spirits of trees,
and for the blue dream of sky
and for everything which is natural,
which is infinite,
which is yes."

e e cummings

This is Bray Lake, a private lake near BSL,
and on this particular day, a day which seems to be
tailor-made for the cummings poem above,
we are on a search for some eagles and their nest
that's been previously spotted by DNR Dave.

Eagles eat a lot of small animals
including turtles and other little varmints.
Here we are under the tree that we think has the nest in it.
We're trying to find turtle shells and animal bones.
Della The Dog is off to the left, her head just above the ferns.
Della did ultra-helpful things like
her trade mark Tigger jump right on top of
perfectly formed turtle shells.

Unfortunately, this little guy
often winds-up like this ....

An empty turtle shell among the leaves ....
no time to reset the light meter due to
Della's aggressive interest in all things turtle.

Pat the Turtle Expert
shows off 2 untrampled shells.

Lookee yonder, I say.
I spy an eagle aerie.
But no, it was just a dead branch
caught in another branch.

Della with one of her many non-turtle finds.

We begin scanning the shoreline of the lake
in hopes of spotting the eagle or eagles
flying about or roosting somewhere.

The sunlight and colors were just amazing on this
late summer day.

Bingo! There he is near the top of a pine tree.

A little zoomage for a better look.

Such a gorgeous day, but someone will actually
have to get in a boat to see the nest
since there's too much foliage blocking the view.

We pick Dave and Liesy.
They set out in the canoe
as stealthy as Indians ....
(Indians with photographic equipment.)

"Give me of your bark, O Birch Tree!
Of your yellow bark, O Birch Tree!
Growing by the rushing river,
Tall and stately in the valley!
I, a light canoe will build me,
That shall float upon the river,
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn,
Like a yellow water lily!"

Hey!

And there it is!
Kind of like a giant beaver dam in a tree!

Revisiting Mystery #4: The March of Time

2011-08-29T16:54:00.000-07:00

Oh. My. Lanta.

At long long last we found it.

Amazing how an entire ghost town
can hide right in plain sight
(kind of like Osama bin Laden).

I'll let the photos do most of the talking.

Ellen on an altar, or maybe it's a sundial.

Hannah's actually on top of a wall.

Ditto for Laina (obviously).

These columns are so tall I couldn't get them
entirely in the picture.

Hannah's standing on a brick arch completely overgrown
with grass and saplings.
We think the Hobbit lives under it.

A bit of rebar makes a
nice, navel-gazing perch.

Fascinating features at the Cement Factory:
An orchard.
Doesn't every cement factory have one?

A giant hopper full of all kinds of "wild"life.

Part of an eagle's wing sculpted in stone.

A pedestal of some sort (the pillars lay nearby).

A medieval skylight.

And graffiti .....

Hmmm.....
In light of what follows
this statement does have some logic to it.

Apparently White Supremists
are NOT alive and well in Baldwin, Mich.

"I Love mom"

That's right! Because you're going to be in
a Heap Of Trouble
when she finds out what you've been up to!

All in all, a rah-ther exciting day for Dutch people.

(this last photo was totally lifted from
Hannah's Facebook page - heel gedank, my dear)

BSL Mystery #9, or ....

2011-06-23T17:29:00.001-07:00

What's in Blue Moon Ice Cream?

(Onceuponageek.com)

Blue Moon Ice Cream.

I didn't realize it until I began this post
but apparently Blue Moon is indigenous to the Midwest.
Who knew?

Just like the White-tailed Deer,
Petoskey stones,
Ida Red apples,
and people who say Ruff when they
mean to say Roof,
Blue Moon ice cream appears only in
those Wisconsiny, Illinoisy, Michigany
kinda places.

You know the ones ....

.... Places like this,
the infamous Joneses Ice Cream shop
in Baldwin, Michigan.
Isn't this photo just the epitome
of small-town America?
The Ferris Wheel is courtesy of Trout-A-Rama.

We always feel pretty sportin'
in our Joneses Tees.

And they even come in manly colors.

Or places like this,
another oft-frequented stop
for Blue Moon Ice Cream consumption.

Back in the day this place was
our beloved Blue Horizon (well, not ours personally,
but you know what I mean),
later on called Bozo's,
and as of a few years ago, renamed Mel's.

When we eat Blue Moon ice cream,
or,
more often than not,
lick Blue Moon ice cream,
we feel like belting out this song ...

You see ....
Blue Moon just resonates with us in that
deeply patriotic, home-grown manner
found in other Americana icons
such as apple pie, baseball, juke-box music,
Old Yeller movies and John Deere tractors.
And Blue Moon = Big Star Lake.
We just love us some Blue Moon,
yet, sadly,
we can never make it ourselves
because the recipe seems to be a
Big Fat Federal Secret.

It's True!!

No one really knows what's in it.
And no one really knows when it first
appeared in all its robin egg glory
though the 1950s is the most popular guess.

This is thee secret ingredient that people swear
is the benchmark of Blue Moon (pick one):
Cherries
Bubble gum
Pineapple
Licorice
Pistachio
Cantaloupe
Marshmallows
Coconut
Almond
Cotton Candy
Fruit Loops
Blue Curacao (whatever that is)
(the second "c" is supposed to have
that little squiggly thing under it
but I have no idea where it is on the keyboard)

And even the mysterious author Neil Gaiman
(of Coraline fame)
has weighed in on the subject ....
and he's British!

So Blue Moon aficionados,
what is it?
Cedar Crest Ice Cream is not telling.
Hudsonville Ice Cream is not telling.
Country Fresh Ice Cream is not telling.

If you know,
or even think you do,
please tell!

And now, because this video really
speaks to me
and cracks me up at the same time,
bon appetit and eet smakelijk.
(I love that his fridge looks like ours ... a hot mess!)

Revisiting Mystery #7

2011-05-28T16:22:00.000-07:00

Dearest Nook,

Where oh where are you?
Did you get caught up in the rapture?
Did you fall prey to the steady
march of progress?

We're sorry that we called you
Crook in the Woods
when your name was actually
Nook in the Woods ....

We were just uncouth, uncultured
kids from the ghetto
who had to babysit
teaming Catholic families of
six kids under 6 years old
washing their never ending laundry,
ironing their wrinkled beyond belief clothing,
walking their unmanageable dogs, and even
PICKLING their cucumbers
all for a lousy 5o cents an hour
and thought we were rich indeed,
only to find out that
everything at the Nook was at least a dollar.

We take back every thing we said about your
exorbitant prices and promise
we will be forever happy with
JUST LOOKING
which is Almost As Fun (voices of mothers everywhere)
if you will just give us one little indication of
where you disappeared to.

We miss (in no particular order):
The Hull pottery, now only available on ebay

These fake little tonic bottles

This gen-u-wine Indian beaded leather belt

These miniature little mailboxes

This Gwen Frostic timeless stationery

This owl windchime

These owl candles

And these mushroom candles
with a little owl figurine
(Owls were very big in the 60's, as were mushrooms.
No one really knows why.)
(photo from TheGinghamOwl.etsy.com)

At the end of an energy-leaching sunny day
it felt good to walk down the sandy road
and turn in at the wagon-wheel
and browse among all of these irresistible trinkets
while the wooden floor creaked underneath our flipflops
and the windchimes tinkled outside
and the lady behind the counter
watched us like a hawk.

Sadly,
we had to satisfy our
spending urges
with yet another
Blue Moon ice cream cone, or,
a big bag of beef jerky
from the much more reasonably priced
Blue Horizon.

The Pirate's Life For Me

2011-03-26T12:27:00.000-07:00

There are three sorts of people;
those who are alive, those who are dead,
and those who are at sea.
attributed to Anacharsis, 6th Century BC

Now, bring me that horizon ....
Jack Sparrow in The Pirates of the Caribbean

We've talked before about Dave VH
and his love of boats and boat building
and seagoing and seafaring.
This enchantement started,
apparently, at quite an early age.
Initially, he was content to just be in a boat
even if it went nowhere.
Later on
he learned that putting a boat in water is key.

Hi there mateys!
I'm guessing this is 1954 ish.

On the back of the photo is written,
"Big Star Lake, Star View,
Randy & Rod Rietema, Henry Kroondyk,
Danny Rietema, and Dave VH".

Star View was a small resort on the
far eastern bay of Big Star
run by the Geerdes
and currently the approximate location of
Holtvluwer's cottage.

I'm guessing Star View was somewhat
north of "Star Marsh" on this map.
In the photo below you can see
the peninsula that is Oddfellow & Rebbeca Camp
over the two boy's shoulders.

You can also see Dave
in the "bow" of the boat
proudly modelling his playboy bunny sweater.

Now, fast forward 50 years or so ....

Here is Dave on the right
with his bro-in-law Tom Zwiep on the left
and his son Luke in der midden.

Kind of tangentially, but
important to the plot-line nevertheless,

this looks like Luke again, don't you think?
In fact, I call this particular YouTube still
Luke-alike.
Check out the photo below for
instant verification.

Yup, dead ringer.

Luke, obviously, on Laina's left, your right.

And you know what's so deja-vuey
about this YouTube still?
It's grabbed from a song called Lukey
(from the band Great Big Sea)
which is the exact term of endearment
used by his mother
and

wait for it,

the song is about a man's
love affair with his boat.

I am going to post it for you below
to help all you Hofmans get in the mood
for sun and water and boating
or maybe just floating
belly up, face-down, whatever your pref

but

make sure you watch the whole video
because Luke doesn't appear until
almost the end.
And .... I know you're Dutch so
y'all need to crank it up loud.

BSL Mystery #8, or ....

2011-02-26T14:01:00.000-08:00

The Message in a Bottle

Long ago and not so far away
there was a little boy who
loved adventure of all kinds
but especially the kind that involved
water, boats and fishing.

This is what he looked like in the olden days ....

And this is what he looks like now ....

One fine summer day
while fishing for blue gills off the dock at Elhart's cottage
this little boy decided to inject
klein beetje more excitement into his little life
and he wrote an ultra-secret note
and put it in an empty pop bottle
and tossed it in the lake.

KERPLOP !

Fast forward a year or so
and imagine yourself barely existing in the
Dreariest Of All Months, aka, January
where it's doing all kinds of this ....

(genuine disgusting photo taken by author
and yes that's 31 inches in 24 hours)

.... and out of no where
(Okay .... Ohio)
this shows up in the mailbox!

A letter from Ohio!
(We know no one in Ohio)

A letter from Ken Pearson
of Westchester Ohio
to be exact.
This considerably brightened
an otherwise dreary January day.

You see,
Ken had found the bottle
containing the little boy's letter
and then he took the time and effort
to write the little boy
and then we promptly did Two Very Bad Things:

1. We LOST the letter!!!
I know! Stupid stupid stupid.

Then

2. We NEVER wrote back to Ken to thank him for being so great!!!
I know! Lazy lazy lazy. And mean.
Our Protestant Work Ethic just went
right out the window.
(Loosely illustrated below. Don't ask!)

So Ken, if you ever see this blog,
we are so so sorry and we hope you
have a wonderful life
and that everyone else you know
is thoughtful and kind and
promptly answers your emails,
and considerately RSVPs on time,
and quickly passes all your messages along
and you never have to be on hold for
an hour listening to Kenny G or Barry Manilow.

Our Calvinist guilt is eating us alive.
(Sing first stanza of Amazing Grace here.
The one about what wretches we are)

P.S. This was not really a mystery for us,
but if Ken ever reads this posting,
it will solve a big mystery for him.

P.S.S. That first photo is by Kraftwerk on flickr CC A licensed
(hope I did that right)

So so sick ........

2011-02-19T11:41:00.000-08:00

of winter.
Gag!

Lies, Val & Grace
in happier warmer times
on the beach at Elharts.

Houston ....

2011-02-07T18:00:00.000-08:00

We have lift off !!

Where there's smoke
there's fire,
and where there's fire
there's warm toasty bodies
or warm bodies toasting

(Hah! I know this looks kinda like a cadaver
due to the waxy white legs
and strangely blue toes
but no human beings were harmed
and/or killed
in the making of this blog)

So, it was an extremely
perfuhlicious weekend
for finalizing all things sauna
with just the right amount of sugary snow.

First you have to make a door

and then hang it so
don't nobody see
no nearly nekkid bodies.
(triple negative!
Please refer to this post here)

Then you have to make a fire

(We don't know why he's wearing that hat, either)

And then you have to get some water
and carry it uphill from the creek
in a rahther heavy container
and make hernia-like sounds humping it
across the threshhold
and into the sauna

And then get it up on the stove
(grunt, gasp, groan)

And, voila mes amis
in a word,
STEAM !

A veritable pillar of cloud
doth issue from the rooftop
and the hand of the Lord
doth pass over them.
"And the pillar of cloud by day
and the pillar of fire by night
did not depart from before the people."
Even people with weird hats.
(Exodus 13 : 22)
Yay!

And now
on a completely different note .... birds.
In particular, a large, prehistoric,
Jurassic Park-like bird
called the Pileated Woodpecker.

They come to the birdfeeder here
and they are impressive indeed.

And here is Dave's graven image ...

(photo stolen from Ellen)

and a close-up I took
to show the carving detail

I know you want to worship it
but .... not a good idea.

Wintering Scandinavian-Style

2010-12-29T16:19:00.000-08:00

Remember when we were talking

about how much I dislike winter
even though it is a very beautious time of year
at the Van't Hof cabin near BSL?

Well thank goodness Dave VH is making
something out of these wooden hubcaps
previously encased in snow
and now guaranteed
to warm even the chilliest of bones.

What once looked like this ....

now looks like this ....

Can you find it in there?

I know it's somewhat reminiscent of
Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother's house
or, the Lair of the Troll who so
viciously attacked the Three Billy Goats Gruff.

But in reality
it just needs a little more tweeking
and a wood stove
and the rocks that you pour
boiling water on
and a water supply
and a changing room
and some nearly nekkid people
and maybe some plush terry cloth towels
donated by anonymous hotel chains
from across America
and then all will be ready
for the fake Finnish people.

Le tour de la sauna ...

This is kinda the front.

Judy is testing the support beam
which seems to have fallen already
and Ellen is bringing sauna-supplies
of a mysterious nature
(Holiday Inn towels?).

This is the side of the sauna
and we pray it is somewhat camouflaged
from the ravenous bear
who hoffentlich is not at all drawn to
slowly cooking human flesh.

This is the back of the sauna.
Rustic is our name.
Impenetrability is our game.

And this is the inside of the sauna
where you get the full
hubcap decor affect ....

Then, to kind of gild the lily,
Dave added these pretty telephone-pole thingies.

These double as rifle port holes
when under ursa major attack.

All in all,
I think the VH sauna falls somewhere on the
woodland housing spectrum between
this troll house

and this fairy house

We discovered this fairy house
at Bill's cottage at BSL.
It was constructed
(we think)
by Esther Bovenkamp's grand kids.
Notice the similarities to
the structure below.

Almost complete sauna.

Very soon now
3 hair highlights later
and 50 pounds leaner
this will be Ellen and I
just chillin' in the sauna ....

complete with my favourite snack ....
burnt marshmallows.

Re-dunk-u-lous!

2010-10-27T17:27:00.000-07:00

I have a love affair with this little 2-lane highway
that stretches between 131 and 37.
The fall colors,
as we neared the "teaming" crossroads at Big Jackson,
were simply re-dunk-u-lous!

But Calvinists, don't get too slap-happy.
Life is not all Kodachrome colors
and pastoral landscapes.
Alas and alors .... just around the corner
(or in this case, down the road a piece)
there's this grim reminder
for the back-slidden
to straighten up and fly right.

So .... ahem,
we were going on a little autumnal
fishing jaunt in October.
The light was amazing, the colors, as we said,
redunkulous, and the temperature mild and,
well,
perfect.
Plus, no bugs.
We put in at M37 behind the Red Moose Lodge.

Drew did a fine job of navigating us down the PM
which included lots of shallows
and low-hanging branches (see above)
and mighty-tighty twisty turns.
Very Robert Louis Stevenson
and here's what he had to say about it:

"Give to me the life I love,
Let the lave go by me.
Give the jolly heaven above,
And the byway nigh me.
Bed in the bush with stars to see,
Bread I dip in the river,
There's the life for a man like me,
There's the life forever."

Okay, the stars weren't out yet
and we didn't dip bread in the river,
but we did have pita bread
dipped in ranch dressing.

Once again I will wax profoundly:

"More than Spring's bright uncontrol
Suit the Autumn of my soul."
Alexander Smith

The feeling's mutual, Alex!

This is Dale in his float boat
looking like a human water-skeeter.

And this is my house that I will own one day.
(By the way, when the "trout guide" says
you can get out at Green Cottage
to use the facilities, just be aware that
other than this beauty, all of the cottages are green.)

With the aura of Trout Fishermen Past
surrounding the kids
they set off to slay the mighty mighty salmon
(actually, no wild animals were harmed in the filming
of this venture ... not even a worm).

This is Drew instructing Lauren
on the finer points of hanging on to
a Monster Salmon.

This is the Monster Salmon thinking it will
hide in the roots of the trees along the river's edge
and totally tangle up the line.

This is Drew having to cut and retie the line
so as to extricate the Monster Salmon.
Some reinforcements arrive but
everything is copacetic.

This is the Monster Salmon.
He is rah-ther heavy so Drew gets the honor of
displaying His Monstrousness.

And finally, the demonstration of the
catch and release technique.
Apparently you can't just let a fish go
(because they will simply lay there
and then flip belly up, giving you the fish eye
and making you feel totally depraved).
Who knew?

And this is why it's imperative that
you get out at Green Cottage
if nature is calling.

Fishing utilizes its own unique
algebraic field of study.
For every minute of driving time, eg.,
it takes 5 minutes to drive from M37 to Green Cottage,
multiply by one hour for paddling/fishing time, eg.,
it takes 5 HOURS to fish this same stretch of river.
People, you are never too old to learn
these important life lessons.

No Dames Allowed

2010-09-18T16:19:00.000-07:00

The following excerpts are from a

favorite book when I was a girl-kid,
Double Trouble For Rupert
by Ethelyn M. Parkinson, published in 1953.

"Clover Lake is a very keen lake with some
very keen cottages where we go for three weeks
every summer. Clayte and his mom and dad go, too.

The only trouble with this very keen spot is that
Smart Annabelle's mom and dad also go along,
and, naturally, that means that
Annabelle goes right along with them!

Clover Lake should not be for girls!

"Well, Clayte and I were climbing into our rowboat
for a very peaceful morning of fishing
when up comes Smart Annabelle.
"I want to go fishing with you," she said.

"Now look, Annabelle," Clayte said.
"We took you fishing last year and
what happened?
Your yakety-yak kept the big ones away."

"You have a very wonderful brain, Annabelle,"
Clayte said like a smoothie.
"Very wonderful ---
for arithmetic and history.
But you can't catch fish with books."

"But Clayton .... "

Clayte came to the point.
"The subject is closed.
This is strictly a man's fishing trip.
No girls are invited."

"I agree with Clayte," I said

Just then Mom stuck her head out our cottage window.
"Rupert Piper, where are your manners?
Certainly you boys are going to take Annabelle fishing.
Now let's not hear another word about it."

Before noon Mom sent me to the grocery store
and I found out the news.
There was going to be a fishing derby
for everyone under fifteen,
with prizes for the biggest fish of each kind.

Swell prizes like a casting rod and a Kodak.
There were sissy prizes, too, for girls.

Before supper
Annabelle was down on the beach
when we went for our swim.
"Oh, Rupert," she said.
"What time are we going?"

"Five o'clock," I said.

"O.K."

"I mean five in the morning, natch," I said,
and waited for Annabelle to faint in the sand.

"O.K. Rupert," she said, "I'll be ready!"

(Early the next morning)
Clayte put one foot on the boat
and made a speech to Annabelle.

"O.K. Annabelle, we're being kind enough
to take you fishing. But there are some rules
you won't find in books.

First, you are not to speak one word
from the time we shove off
until we make port."

"Second rule," said Clayte,
"you will bait your own hook."

"Oh, sure," said Annabelle.

"Third rule," said Clayte, "you will remove
your fish from the hook without help."

She smiled.

"Fourth and last rule," said Clayte, "You will
immediately throw back everything you catch."

There were times when I was really proud
to know Clayte. This was one of those times.

Annabelle stopped smiling. "But Clayton .... "

"I agree with Clayte," I said. "We do not wish to row
a ton of minnies around."

"But suppose I catch a big one! I might win the derby!"

"Rules are rules," I said.
Clayte glared at her. "Throw back everything you catch,
even if it's Jonah and the Whale!
Promise or you don't go!"

"I promise," said Annabelle.

We put Annabelle in the middle of the boat
where we could keep an eye on her.

First thing, Annabelle got a bite.
She slipped Mr. Shiner from the hook,
tossed him back, and looked sadly after him.

Clayte and I grinned at each other.
That was when I lost the big bass.

We moved to a different spot. Our luck was the same,
but Annabelle hauled in a bass .... Clayte and I
kept giving her cold looks until she tossed it
to a gull.

While I was baiting my hook,
I noticed Annabelle taking something from her pocket
and putting it in her mouth.
Very impolite!
In a minute she flipped her line over.
I saw it jerk and up came a trout
fourteen inches long.
Well, a short fourteen inches!
While we watched, Annabelle flipped it overboard.

Then Clayte had an idea.
"Annabelle," he said, "since you came uninvited,
and since you can't row, I suggest you bait our hooks."

Annabelle never said a word. She baited
Clayte's hook and tossed it in -- then mine.
In a minute, I landed a bass as big as a cow.

Right then Clayte got a bite that shook the boat.
He made a big fuss landing the fish.
Annabelle went on chewing.
While she baited Clayte's hook and tossed it in
I brought in a big trout.

Annabelle kind of choked on what she was chewing.

I slipped my trout off the hook. "Hey," I said.
"Annabelle, what's that stuff you're baiting our hooks with?"

"Yeah," said Clayte. "I just remembered,
you don't have any worms.
You are now permitted to speak."

Annabelle looked very innocent.
"Why, I've simply been baiting the way it says
in my book, with good old paraffin."

Just then someone whooped from the shore.
It was Clayte's dad. "Breakfast! Last call.
You kids get in here!"

We took our catch to the sporting goods store
and had it weighed in.
In the evening,everyone went down
for the announcement of prizes.
Mr. Fifeld was master of ceremonies.

Clayte's bass won a prize.

"But the grand prize goes to a young fisherman,
Mr. Rupert Piper, for a trout
that's the envy of all us anglers.
Care to tell us what you used, Rupert?"
Mr. Fifield looked very coy.

I'd rather be dead three times, I thought.

Clayte felt the same.

"Not telling?" Mr. Fifield said.
"Well, that's all right. You don't have to give away any secrets.
The prizes are this beautiful Shakespeare reel,
or this exquisite gold compact.
Which will you take, Rupert? As if I didn't know!"
He was reaching the reel toward me.

"I'll take the compact," I moaned.

Mr. Fifield smiled. "Oh, for your mother!"

(Thanks to A. and D. who visit us up at BSL.)

Also, if you enjoyed this story,
Ethelyn Parkinson wrote other terrific books,
the best of which is
The Operation That Happened To Me
where Rupert has an appendectomy
and gets to take his appendix home in a mason jar of formaldehyde
and display it at Show-n-Tell.

Sadly, we can say from experience (daughter Laina)
this is no longer the case.
Yes!! We asked!
But everything goes to the path lab nowadays.

"All The Single Ladies..."

2010-09-07T17:19:00.000-07:00

" ... all the single ladies"

"all the single ladies

all the single ladies,

... now put your hands up,"

"... hands up ... "

"don't pay him any attention ..."

After several aborted starts
(technical problems with the speakers and sound system)
the annual ski show begins with a rousing rendition of
Beyonce's mega-hit "Single Ladies"
more commonly known as
"Put A Ring On It".

Here we have the girls simultaneously
skiing, singing and clapping.

"Up in the club, we just broke up"

"I'm doing my own little thing"

(Drew's friend Ben De Vries in beard)

"Decided to dip .... "

" ... and now you wanna trip ... "

"Just cried my tears for three good years"

"Well if you liked it then you shoulda
put a ring on it ... "

"Yeah if you liked it then
you shoulda put a ring on it ... "

"Whoa uh oh, oh oh oh ..."

A moveable Ski Tower... tres difficile.

This little stukketje was getting tired of me
snapping all kinds of photos and the
blaring Beyonce music.

Shortly thereafter, sand throwing ensued.

Old Time Religion

2010-09-05T16:28:00.000-07:00

This is my Sunday School Card
from Big Star Lake Chapel

And this is the flip side.

We had a lot of religion back then.
9:30am: Church
11:20am: Sunday School
5:30pm: Church

And did I ever mention that Sundays were
always sunny, and hot, and the lake was off-limits?
Some day this will be explained to me.
Please refer to Luke13: 14-17 for possible theological refutation.

Nevermind ....
this is really just a quick little post to say
that while we were up at BSL this year
we went to the Chapel
where we had a spiritually uplifting time
singing some of the old stand-bys
(hymn wise)

-thank you minister whoever you are -
(we didn't get a bulletin)

and suffered through two rounds of
"special music", which, as always,
was truly heartfelt but kinda awful.

At least the days are over
where the musicians would actually hawk
their cassette tapes at the back of the Chapel as you left
(or tried to leave) the service.

Below is the song that will forever remind me
of BSL Chapel and Uncle Art,
although I have no idea who these wholesome boys are.

The Circle of Life

2010-08-23T17:46:00.000-07:00

... Jerry Garcia-style:

Tie Dye Project Summer of 1973.

(Judy Van't Hof Alphenaar, far left.
Joanie Van't Hof Rosema, third from left.)

Fast forward THIRTY SEVEN YEARS!

Tie Dye Project Summer of 2010

Step One:
Rubberbanding T-shirts
(Annalise Alphenaar, Lauren Jung & Laina Rosema)

Step Two:
Dyeing T-shirts
(Lies Rosema Kelder, Lauren J., Annalise A., Laina R.)

Step Three:
Feeling Groovy,
expressed so eloquently by Robert Plant

"What we have in mind is
breakfast in bed for four thousand.
Tie dye on the highway
See the garlands in your hair
If your going' my way,
come along,
What a beautiful sky
We just have to stop and stare
See the beautiful colours fill the air ..."

Step Four:
Future Project
(start collecting Chuck Taylors, now).

He's baaaaaack ....

2010-07-13T16:16:00.000-07:00

After a rah-ther long hiatus

and several more bear sightings
but, alas and alors
no bear photographing,
we finally have a picture for you
of the Bird Feeder Bear
and this time he (or she)
is wearing bling.

When I gaze upon this photo
I am reminded of the well-known
much-loved rhyme from
days of yore
that goes like this
(say it with me):

"Brown bear, brown bear
what do you see?
I see a big honkin' grizzly
lookin' at me!"

Now,
to be ever true to our Dutch nature
which genetically includes
the predisposition to ponder and research and study
and debate something
to the point of ridiculousness
(Think: "How many angels can dance on the
head of a pin?" and "What does this
mean in our post millennial
pre-apocalyptical
herman hoeksema hermeneutical
nonsensical daily life?"
Please fill as many bluebooks as necessary.
Your time limit is 40 days and 40 nights.)

ahhh ... where were we ....
oh yeah ....
Dutch pedantic nature y'all ....

To be true to our Dutch nature
we must be very clear
in asserting here that the
intrepid Bird Feeder Bear
is not actually a grizzly bear
or a brown bear,
which are actually
the same thing
so,
I know
confusing confusing
but what we're looking at
is actually a black bear.

And thank you Dave & Ellen
for so helpfully taking this photo
in black and white
lest we forget.

Another easy way to recall
which bear is which
is the fact that a black bear
sports the Latin nom-de-plume
Ursus Americanus.
Just remember that we like our ursus,
americanus,
thank you very much.

We do not like our ursus,
horribilus,
like the Grizzly,
or middendorffus
like the Kodiak,
although middendorffus does have kind of a
nice Dutch ring to it!

All right everyone,
kijk es below
because we have found in the
archival wonders of all things Hofmanesque
the following historical document:

Wow!!
Beside the fact that there are
simply so many things politically incorrect
and just plain cuh-razy
about this picture
it nevertheless illustrates
that Hofmans have this strange
affinity slash attraction
to all things flora and fauna and ursa.

Here we see another black bear
drinking what appears to be
a bottle of Country Fresh Chocolate Milk
pointedly ignoring the Dutch stoicism
of Billy Barrows, Dave VH, Tommy Barrows,
SueEllen Barrows, Steve VH and Judy VH.

Now, the astute viewer will see that
Steve VH is wearing his Davy Crockett T-shirt
in honor of the occasion.
In case you don't know the words to this song
like every other red blooded American
including the Ursus Americanus,
we will include it below for your
Survey of American Heroes pleasure:

BTW, the portrait on the you tube video
is not the real Davy Crockett.

Here is the real Davy Crockett.

Another Nook in the Woods

2010-01-11T17:07:00.000-08:00

This is a cheating kind of blog-i-sode
so just bear with me.

This is what Dave & Ellen's cabin looked like when we first saw it.

In case you can't locate it in the photo, Dave is pointing at it.
We're looking at the back door. Don't ask me what direction we're facing ....
after 3 years I still can't tell if it's north/west/east/or south.

This is the cabin from the front.
The front does not face the road.
A tricky thing to remember.
Very disconcerting for Dutch people who like things straightforward.
I'm taking this picture from down by the creek.

Here's the creek in the summer ....
Gorgeous.

And here is the creek in the fall ....

Gorgeouser.

And here it is in the winter....Despite the beauteousness of the snow,
I do not care for winter.
So, no comment allez-vous from moi.

All right.
Why all these pictures of a cabin in the woods?
And why all these pictures of a creek
when this blog is about Big Star Lake?
Because I have a point and the point is,
this little creek flows into a bigger creek which
flows into the Pere Marquette which
puts us right at Big Star Lake's backdoor.
(I may have this slightly wrong, but, whatever).

And this is my backdoor way of posting some
photos during the wintertime
(which in Michigan is never ending)
of something that is almost BSL.
At any rate, it's most definitely Lake County.

Now, integral to this story is the part where
Dave & Ellen were not satisfied,
and so like the Tower of Babel,
they had to keep adding to their largesse.

As you may recall, Dave is a builder of boats,
and a collector of guns and a whittler of duck decoys
and a scavenger of cork-stoppered bottles of
Dr.Coffin's Tincture of Goat Saliva
and an owner of labrador retrievers that have been
red and yellow, black and not white
(I'm not kidding)
so where do you keep all this crap?
(dogs included)

Ta-Da!
You build an outbuilding.
This is a photo of Ellen saying,
"David, do not fall off that ridgepole!"

Next we will fast-forward
and show you what the building of the outbuilding
looks like near completion
and yeah, it's winter again
and that dog is a random dog that does not
belong to anyone we know.

Isn't that great!
So matchy matchy!
And a big shout out to Mark Kelderman!
So...
back to that Babel story again.

Erecting this big honking edifice was
kinda fun while it lasted but, what next Cheswick?

Well,
seeing how it always appears to be winter in this,
the winter wonderland,
or at least pretty dang cold most of the time,
Dave thought a real live sauna
would be just the thing.
And that's pronounced sow-nuh, BTW.

Let's get to felling trees, guys ....

This is Dave, Della the Dog, and Dale.
We are only missing Darryl and his other brother Darryl.

Coming along nicely with 3 gigantic
250 pound lincoln-log type crossbeams in place
and one still to go.
When the frame is completely done,
then this happens ....

See, you chop down all these trees that have
big fat trunks
until you have lots of round sections
that look kind of like wooden hubcaps.

Here is the cutting area
where lots of chopping and chainsawing
and things of that nature occur.
It all involves a lot of noise and engine revving.

Anyway,
the giant wooden hubcaps get piled one on top
of the other, just like in the picture,
and then you fill in the gaps with some goopy stuff
and VOILA, you have an extra thick wall
and no rainforests were destroyed in the making
of this sauna!

I just threw in this photo
to remind me of sunlight!
and fresh vegetables!
and green branches through the window!
and D & E's hospitality!
and why I like summer better at the cabin,
though it is toasty warm and peaceful-like
with the new wood-burning stove
(which was another project that we won't even get into)
and thankfully the resident bear is hibernating
and no longer leaving monster claw marks on the deck
mere inches from this table
after bending the birdfeeder into a giant letter "S".

The End.

P.S. I will keep you updated on the progress of the sauna.
P.S.S. And the bear.

BSL Mysteries #6 and #7 ....

2009-09-19T11:00:00.000-07:00

.... Or, A Sleuthing We Will Go

We had such a good time at BSL this year

and, as you can see,
I'm pushing my previously set, 5 week deadline
from my last blog entry
to the absolute limit.
Deja vu of every homework assignment and course paper I've ever written.

We had a gazillion people up at poor Billy's cottage,
so Arthur William, if you noticed your water bill
skyrocketing for the month of August,
please forward it to us.

Dave VH built another boat (I know! Just call him Noah)
and he took us on a tour of BSL that rivaled all the
pontooners we see putzing by everyday pointing and gawking at us.
We tried to do likewise, and commented extra loudly
because voices carry so well over water, don't you think?
We said things like: "Look at that monstrosity!
It's as big as a country-club.
How can these people live with themselves?
Children are starving and dying the world over.
Obviously they're not Christian Reformed
or they would've drowned in their Calvinist guilt."

Or "drownded" as my kids say.

Seriously, though,
it's kinda sad to see all the little log cabin
or clapboarded cottages pulled down
(sometimes 2 or 3 in a row) to make elbow room
for huge McMansions that aren't really "cottages" at all.
And no one ever seems to be staying in these things!
Such a mystery,
but READ ON mefrouws and mijneers,
for two more riveting mysteries.

Mystery #6: Oddfellow & Rebekah Camp
We motored by Oddfellow & Rebekah Camp.
Yes, you heard me right.
Odd ( as in weird) fellow (as in man)
and Rebekah (as in Jacob thanking God it wasn't Leah).
Now, wat is dat een naam!
Don't you just love it!
Here it is in days of yore.
(Kudos again to Don Hamilton of Flickr)

The mystery is ....
just what exactly goes on in there.

I realize Oddfellows (and I suppose Rebekahs, too)
belong to the Freemasons and in general are totally normal people that
simply have an unhealthy attachment to intricate rituals.
Just like you, I've read Fried Green Tomatoes
by Fannie Flagg, or maybe it was her other book Daisy Fay,
when Fannie and her friend Pickle
were thrown out of the Order of the Eastern Star
because they were simultaneously overcome with hilarity
during a Very Somber Pledge.

Well, when we've driven into the camp for the annual
BSL Ski Shows
(see below, courtesy of bigstarlake.org)everything LOOKS pretty straightforward:
your basic semi-rundown summer camp,
little white cabins, check
a mess hall, ball diamonds, check check
a tether ball and swingsets and beach, check check check
sooooo .....

where are they hiding all the good stuff?
The swords, the coffins, the eastern star?
Where are the chanting Knights of Templar,
ala The DaVinci Code?
This particular Oddfellow sword was manufactured in Kalamazoo, Michigan.
It seems to say, in no uncertain terms,
"Yo! Don't be messin' with my oddfellows, y'all."

Sue VH drove over to the camp to visit her sister
who was there at the camp as a chaperone
with the Calvin Christian High School Football Team
who in turn were there
for their punt kicker training or male bonding or whatever.
Now how spooky is that? (rhetorical question, people.)
What a letdown.
They found no skeletons that we know of.
Or swords.
Or even a templar
which is kinda like a template or maybe a temple.

Hanyvey .... back to our excursion around the lake.
We did see a wedding in progress on the beach at Snug Harbor,
that was nice,
and several people fishing, ditto,
but otherwise it was All Quiet on The Big Star Lake Front.

As we rounded our bay and headed back home
we were struck with how "our" cottage seemed to pop out from the others
due to the inordinate amount of
rummeltje all over the beach and lawn.
In other words we were struck with what slobs we are.

I said, "Good grief, we're as bad as
The Beans of Egypt, Maine."
a book about a spectacularly trailer-trashy family
and Dave VH responded,
"or as bad as the Van't Hofs of Benjamin and Bemis."
(our ghetto home address).

Then, due to a little inclimate weather
we went on 2 other reconnaisance missions:

Yes, yes, Bumstead Ponderosa in all its dilapidated glory
was calling out to us, like the sirens in the Odyssey.

So we capitulated and prowled around
and stuck our camera lens inside,
periscope-style,
to take a look.

Knotty pine! A fireplace!
An aersol can of Lemon Fresh Pledge!
Bumstead needs a loving owner
before it totally disappears under the
Michigan version of kudzu vine.
But, tangent alert!, this really isn't my second mystery
(other than the fact that no one seems to want to buy this place).

No, the other mystery brings us to our second recon mission,
Mystery #7: Finding the Nook in the Woods

(Postcard contributed by Jack Laansma on bigstarlakehistory.org)

Long story short,
we didn't find it.
Now where could it have gone?
The collective VH memory remembers
turning left off of Big Star Lake road shortly after passing
The Blue Horizon if you were heading away from the Chapel.
In other words, it was on the same side of the road
as The Blue Horizon.

We remember the log cabiny look,
the wagon wheel,
the unpaved dirt or gravel road to get there,
and Dave snarkily calling it "Crook in the Woods".
We fondly remembered all the totally unnecessary
but tantalizing things bored people with money could buy:
miniature fake medicine bottles,
beaded leather belts that lost their beads as you walked out the door,
tiny mailboxes that really opened but alas! could never be used,
Gwen Frostic cards that confused us because they were
painted by a "blind" person.

So, if anyone can weigh in on this puzzling disappearance of
an otherwise fairly substantial building,
here's the place to do it.

Well, all of this detecting and sleuthing
and katootalie business made us
sort of hungry so we went to Dave & Ellen's
and feasted on this:

Pork to the left, venison to the right,
mushrooms and peaches in the middle.
Strange but strangely good.

Tomorrow we will be doing this ....

2009-08-06T18:18:00.000-07:00

Relaxing, reading
sunning,
and
eating

We'll report back in 2 weeks
(Okay, maybe 3 or possibly 4,
but definitely in 5 weeks)

Mucky Harbor

2009-06-13T12:11:00.000-07:00

An interesting fact:

I Googled the name "Mucky Harbor" and I found
not one single place or body of water in
the whole wide world
with this particular name,
EXCEPT,
our Mucky Harbor, which linked me right back to this blog.

In a way, this makes sense.
Why would anyone want their watery retreat or stretch of sand
to be known as a harbor called "Mucky"?

Which beggars the question:
Why, in fact, did we?

Don't know, kids.
It's all in the (literally) murky past.
The Hofman's murky past, that is,
with our increasingly unreliable memories
and also in the geological murky past,
because much of Mucky Harbor has now been dredged out
and is currently a pretty little "hoekje" appendage
on the west side of the lake
with well maintained cottages
and sloping grass lawns rolling down to the water's-edge.

But back-in-the-day,
you definitely needed one of these ....

(the canoe, not the car)
to penetrate the Harbor and to
plumb the depths of what
it had to offer.

This is a Bullhead Lily and these grew there in abundance,
second only to the Fragrant Water Lily (below)
which were even more abundantly abundant.

And .... there were LOTS of these ....

Painted Box Turtles

as well as these ....

your basic Green Frog.

To enter Mucky Harbor
you had to leave behind the lake proper.
As the drone of boat motors subsided
and shrieking sunbathers retreated in the distance
the bow of your canoe would make a V shaped parting
through swaths of this stuff ....

We called it snakegrass.
You can pull it apart and reassemble it however you like,
kind of like Tinker Toys.

Mucky Harbor always conjures up for me
a place of intense stillness.
A place where you could almost see
the fermentation process unfolding as you sat in your canoe,
paddles lightly parting the water behind you.
Except for the plop of turtles belly-flopping off logs
or birds calling to each other from opposite shores
there was very little sound.

Long ago the only "cottages" in this
wrong-side-of-the-railroad-tracks area were ancient cabins
in various stages of disrepair
quietly succumbing to the onward march of nature.
Someone would set out a saltlick for deer every year
but we never actually saw him, or her.
(We saw the deer, though).

Early morning or evening dusk seemed to be
when we most often paddled over to Mucky Harbor;
hence, the landscape would be strangely sun infused in an
etherealish kind of way.
Coming into the gloaming, definitely.

Puts you in mind of this John Muir quote:
"The grand show is eternal.
It is always sunrise somewhere;
the dew is never dried all at once;
a shower is forever falling;
vapor is ever rising.
Eternal sunrise,
eternal dawn and gloaming ... "

The whole area had a very eerie, other-worldy feel to it.
Very beautiful yet somewhat sinister.
Think Ted Kasinsky
(or Al Capone).

Just ignore that screaming bloody murder sound.

We'll "pass" on this theme song

2009-03-16T18:16:00.000-07:00

When I was at Baxter Christian
there was a morning ritual called
the sentence prayer that was very much in vogue
(remember, this was the 60s).
The idea was to include the students,
and what a novel idea since we were,
after all, in school.

This is how it usually unfolded ....

Teacher: "Teddy, will you begin our sentence prayer today?"

Teddy: "Sure, Mrs. Vander Schmandersma"

Teddy prayerfully intones,
"Dear Lord, please be with our boys in Viet Nam"
Sally (who sits directly behind Teddy) adds,
".... and all the starving children in Biafra"
Freddy, who's next in the row, contributes,
".... and all the starving children in China"
Betsy likewise intones,
".... and all the starving children in India"
Ricky whispers in a strangulated voice, "pass"
Davy, future missionary, Calvin Sem 1983, pleads,
".... and all the starving children in Outer Mongolia"
Patsy barely gasps, "pass"
and etcetera etcetera etcetera
(all the names have been changed to protect the innocent)

Well, that's kind of how I feel about This Song.

If Mrs. Vander Schmandersma let's us pass on this song
I think I'll take her up on it.

And, if nothing else, this video proves
once and for all
that white people cannot dance.
Please, Dutch white people, do not even attempt to
move with music!
Take it from someone who grew up in the ghetto.

Photo courtesy of Holland Chamber of Commerce

KEEK US and KATOOTLE !!

2009-03-09T07:48:00.000-07:00

Katootle is a Hofman word that we use
in place of dang or rats
or for cryin' out loud!

If some event or occasion or procedure
is hopelessly confusing and muddled up
Hofmans exclaim, "What a katootalie business!"

At least,
I think that's what we exclaim
because both of these words are of uncertain origin,
vaguely Dutch sounding,
and used by no one else but us.
I don't even know how to spell them.

but ............

that's what I thought about other Hofmanisms, too,
such as luppee, feese, bahnout, poppetje,
ferfailent, keek us, and last but not least, the heavily used
"Stop your seussing and sonicking!"

and then, y'all,

I discovered that these are REAL WORDS

all of them

and not Hofmanisms or some weirdly mutated
bastardized form of the Teutonic slash Saxon language.

Regardez!!!!

Luppee = lapje, a small piece of cloth.
Feese = vies, meaning filthy or dirty
Bahnout = benauwd, meaning stuffy
Poppetje = poppetje!, little doll
Ferfailent = vervelend, annoying and unpleasant
Keek Us = kijk es, to look
and ... and .... and .... AND

Seuss and Sonic = zoesen en zanikken, meaning to worry, bore, tease,
and to unnecessarily talk about the same subject over and over.
(Insert young child whining, repetitively, "Mama, mama, mama, mama...")

Now,
harken back and
remember how Grandma and the aunts used to whisper,
"Keek us!",
sotto voce,
when a little poppetje was doing something naughty
like getting really vies by jumping in mud puddles,
but you didn't want the little seuss and soniker
to know that you'd noticed
so you went all default language instead?

Yup. I thought you'd remember.

Yes Yes.
I do have a point and
this is it:

KEEK US and KATOOTLE !!

Here we have Sandra Vermeer and Barbara Hoogstrate
and
"KEEK US"
Barbie has a Boa Constrictor Around Her Neck
and Sandy is just really very copacetic with that.

Now we are going to fast forward
and Keek Us a little more.
Here is Barb with her grandson, Donovan,
not really encircling her neck but
kind of clutching at her bosom
and, as you can clearly see,
Barb stills weighs the same as she did
when she was 16
which is just ridiculous
but isn't that little poppetje sweet?

Donovan is the son of Barbie's son Steve,

although in the photo below
I'm pretending to be his mother
(notice pained expression on Steve's face)
with my sister Karen "keek ussing"

Here is Steve a few years later,
free from my clutches

and here he is again
just a couple of decades later
with his andere poppetje, Olivia,
and even though he is a doctor in Oregon
brownie points for wearing that Tiger baseball hat!

Finally, we have the entire Phelps family:
Andree, Donovan, Steve & Olivia
and nobody is seussing or sonicking
but Donovan looks like he just realized
he lost his luppee!

And P.S.
this is really kinda cool because
Donovan & Olivia are the FIFTH GENERATION
of Hofmans at Big Star Lake.

You Can Call Me Al

2009-01-26T16:32:00.000-08:00

This guy ....

He of the soggy cigar
and the white fedora
alum of Catholic School 133
(from which he was expelled at age 14)
the Junior Forty Thieves
the Five Points Gang
ringleader of the Chicago Outfit
fiesty inhabitant of Atlanta US Pen,
Alcatraz Island, Terminal Island,
and even this lovely cell in
Eastern State Pen (Philly).

Yes, this is for real people!
Mr. Capone got special permission to decorate his cell
and so,
as you can clearly see,
given his Italian roots and all,
he went with the Tuscan Look.
It must have taken Alphonse weeks
to get that retro/adobe walls/wine-cellary ambience
and I'm pretty sure that he stole that
wooden radio from our house in the ghetto.

Apparently, his time at Alcatraz,
wasn't quite as cozy.
While there, Mr.Capone failed to adhere to
the basic rule that every school kid over the age of 5
can sum up in two words:
"no cuts".

When Al tried to take cuts in the prison barbershop queue,
James Lucas, a Texas bank robber serving 30 years,
pressed a pair of scissors to Al's neck and told him
to get back to the end of the line.
Al wondered aloud if Mr. Lucas knew who he was...
Lucas answered, "Yeah, I know who you are,
greaseball,
and if you don't get back to the end of that line,
I'm gonna know who you were."

Dang!
Better than Once Upon A Time In The West!

And yes, Mr. Lucas did stab him,
although at a later date for an equally "serious" infraction,
and down to solitary confinement he did go.

Well, as we all know,
our Al was a very bad boy indeed,
despite all the aforementioned quaint rehabilitative anecdotes.
His obituary in the New York Times
attributed over 300 deaths to His Chicago Outfitness
due to his creatively inspired gang wars.

That's not to say Al didn't have his good points ....

Here we have the starving and the unemployed
of the Depression era
lining up for Al's free coffee and doughnuts.
I believe this was the
"One doughnut, one vote" line.

Okay okay okay okay.
What does this have to do with BSL? you say.

Because because because because
we all know that Alphonse Capone
liked to hide from the Feds, from the G-men
and from his arch enemy "Bugs" Moran
in Lake County
and we are pretty sure
it was right about here:

Do you see that leetle yellow boat, senoir?
Now do you see that pointy promontory peninsula thingy
directly across the lake from the leetle yellow boat?
Bingo!

This is where, for some reason,
through some overheard grown-up conversation,
or whispered pseudo-ghost story around a campfire
we believed Al Capone was lurking,
no doubt spying on us with his binos
from his perch on the hill
facing conveniently east toward all the cottages
we normally inhabitated
(Strovens, Owens, Elharts, Laansmas, D'Archangels)
plotting our early Hofman demise.

It didn't seem to make any difference
that we were born in the 50s and 60s and
and Al Capone died in 1947.
It just made it spookier.

By the way, there is an excellent post here:
http://bigstarlakehistory.com/capone.htm
that is much more informative than my random Hofman rumors.

Eggbeater Redux

2009-01-13T07:16:00.000-08:00

A little feedback on the eggbeater....

Judy VH Alphenaar writes:
"I have fond memories of the eggbeater being
a real boy magnet.
Eunice and I used to take out the rowboat
with the eggbeater attached
and when we saw some cool guys ramming around in a speedboat
we would pretend that we were having motor trouble.
Of course you didn't have to do much pretending with the infamous eggbeater
because just the sight of it made the whole scenario believable."

Bill Hoogstrate writes:
"Not too bad (the photo in the previous post)
but the real eggbeater predates the one in the picture
by quite a few years.
It didn't have any housing on the top
so you could see the whole engine.
On the top was the starter cord
that you had to wrap by hand
every time you pulled to start.
This was originally Grandpa Hofman's motor,
my guess is that it was built in the 30s."

And just for old timey's sake,
here is a little snippetje from a letter
Grandma Hofman wrote to Uncle John & Uncle Wally
when the rest of the clan was at BSL in the summer of 1956:
"Greetings to all from Big Star....
Well, last Saturday when we got here
Dad (Jan Hofman) went in the boat
with Davy (Dave Van't Hof, now 58)
to catch some fish and the motor stalled on him.
He just got it back from Schaeffer which cost
him over $10.00!! (Lawsy mercy! - editor)
Well, you can't begin (sic) much without a motor.
Don (VH) was going back Sunday night and coming back Wednesday night
so early Monday morning Marge (Vermeer) got up
and she took Don to work so she could have
Don's car to take the motor (to the mechanics),
they checked it and it was
OUT OF GAS!

Did you ever hear anything worse?
Dad was without a motor for three days!"

The Eggbeater

2009-01-11T11:27:00.000-08:00

Innertubing, tobaganning, skiing,

In general, just going fast,
these were all activities we lusted after
while at Big Star Lake.

In our collective mind's eye
we looked something like this
(if we were female)

Modest, head-covered,
but still having a good time,

or like this,
(if we were male)

Appropriately attired,
but in general kinda insane,
as most boys are at this age.

Unfortunately, none of this was meant to be
for the extended Hofman clan.
In fact, I can almost hear the dominie intoning,
"If the good Lord meant
for you to be tearing around the lake
like a crazed waterskeeter ,
he would have formed you with a
35 hp Evinrude welded to your spine."

On the practical side, two key ingredients were missing:

1. A big boat
2. A big boat with a big honkin' motor.

Now,
the Hofmans had a boat motor,
an inheritance of sorts and in the true Dutch tradition
where nothing is ever discarded or thrown away
simply because it's broken, or out-dated,
or non-energy effecient, or politically incorrect
or in our case, ugly beyond all belief,
we had our family heirloom motor
which we christened
"The Eggbeater".

(not an actual photo but pretty dang close)

Yes. I know. Almost too hideous to behold.

Pictured below is a "real" eggbeater.

If you were to hang over the back of your fishing boat
put this kitchen implement in the water and crank away,
your boat would ( kinda sorta) advance forward
at approximately the same speed as it would
using our vintage "Eggbeater" motor.

I think it goes without saying that we children
and teenagers were too mortified
to be photographed anywhere near
this thing,
and so, sadly, no pictures have been found (yet).

However, I'll leave you with a
very close approximation
of the sound of our Hofman Heirloom
"beating" in your ears:

Days of Yore

2008-12-31T07:35:00.000-08:00

A vintage photo of Blue Horizon Resort.
Simple simple pleasures
minus all of the modern trappings

This photo belongs to Donald Harrison's Flickr Photostream
entitled Up North Memories

I think it's rather quaint ...

especially the complimentary boat oars
awaiting vacationers by each cabin door
and the sun dappled lawn leading up to them.

You can almost smell the summer heat
radiating off the spicy sassafras trees
from your computer monitor!

Five more months people
and our vistas and weather will
resemble what we see here.

Can't wait.

Lost and FOUND

2008-12-07T17:32:00.001-08:00

A boat load of things get lost at BSL,

or "simply go missing, dahling"
as our British friends might say.

Over the course of time,
where time equals decades
and even generations,
the Hofmans have lost
*in no particular order*

Bikini Tops

actually purloined we think

Boat Motors

just a simulation but it's been
on the bottom of the lake so long
I'm sure it looks uber "vies" by now

Wedding Rings

never found

Sometimes children .... briefly

found

Our appetites

deep fried food with mayo =
heart attack to go

Our way

"I thought we were in Lake County"

All Sense of Modesty

we won't name this child

and .... Countless Fishing Lures

often found in tree branches
or stuck to the back of your jacket

Soooooo .....

it is with deep satisfaction
and unbelievable excitement
and even a little bit of tear-jerky emotion
that for ONCE
we found something
that absolutely made everybody's day.

Here he is ....

with his very happy, huggy,
red-eyes-from-crying owner

This is neither here nor there
but I kinda think these kids are Dutch,
don't you?

Say What !!

2008-11-25T17:40:00.000-08:00

It's SUNDAY you say?

Well,

then we'll just fiddle with
these sticks for a while
and try not to fall in!

Incidentally,
since this photo was taken
60 years ago,
these boys are all retirement age now.

Can you guess who they are?

The Package Tour

2008-11-01T09:48:00.000-07:00

You know the old addage,
"A picture says a thousand words"?
Sometimes you can capture a day
in just a few, well-placed photographs.

Because there are certain benchmarks that define
every trip to BSL
lets start at the very beginning
(it's a very good place to start)
with the actual road trip up to Big Star.

Tum dee dum,
we're tootling northward for about an hour
before we turn west onto 19 Mile Road,
which bridges the much busier highways
called US 131 and M 37,
and suddenly we're immersed in 1950s Americana.
Our trip even includes a one room schoolhouse.

This one's called Big Jackson School.
Big Jackson itself is just a crossroads
that consists of a school
and a church.
Yup.
That's Big Jackson.

The countryside on 19 Mile is gorgeous.
Lots of gently rolling hills,
grazing cattle, burbling creeks,
farmyards with carefully tended flower gardens,
big red barns that say "Cousineau and Sons"
and hay bales.

The 21st century version of a hay bale

resembles a giant, Euell Gibbons-type
Little Miss Debbie Cake Roll.

And then, naturlich, for our daily dose
of Calvinist guilt,
the ubiquitous roadside chapel.

Let's motor on, shall we?
After our arrival at BSL
we can hardly wait to go
deer-shinin' and scope out
the current deer population.

To make it a true two-fer,
we usually go shining on the way
to another de rigeur pit-stop,
Jones' Homemade Ice Cream.

In addition to its unparalleled ice cream,

Jones' boasts a kind of
in-shop museum that chronicles
very important events in the history of
Baldwin, Idlewild, Marlborough
and Lake County in general.
If I were a teacher, I definitely would
schedule a field trip here.

In the handsomely appointed dining area,
Dave VH and Tom Hofman find plenty to laugh about

despite the towering inferno occurring
just above their heads.

Sometimes we are lucky and our BSL stay
coincides with a VERY SPECIAL OCCASION
called TROUTARAMA.

Troutarama, like all things American,
has very little to do with trout,
and a lot to do with drinking alcohol.

And what is a 'rama without
a Ferris Wheel?

Now we're all very tuckered out
from our first eventful day at BSL.
After we return to our respective cottages,
lie about how many deer we spotted,
how many flavors of ice cream we ate,
how many misspelled road signs we saw,
we collapse into our beds
under the eaves,
and listen to the tree branches
rustle in the wind,
and the acorns plink* plink* plink*
across the roof,
and then we fall asleep.
Priceless.

Big Star Beijing-Style

2008-10-10T16:41:00.000-07:00

Did you know digging to China

is a lot harder than the
average backyard hooligan
would have you believe?

It takes FOREVER
and a DAY
and then a month
but, hey, wait a sec ....
Ahoy there, matey
Hannah think's she's spotted something ...

Yes!
It's China!!
It's the Beijing Bird's Nest!!!

Yee - Haw!

This calls for the
Dueling Guitar Hero Competition

Grace is being a gracious winner

and yes that is duct tape,
and not a melted silver medal, on Luke's hand
- we call him Duct Tape Hand Luke -
and no, we don't know why he
always has one wet pant leg.

Then, off to the Scenic Lake Venue
and the Two Man Kayaking Competition
with the One Man Hole

and the "Dew" Quaffing Competition

and the Smore Stuffing Competition.

Grant received 0.0 for execution
since he declined to eat a Smore,
but we did give him an 8.75 for artistic expression

Dave received a 9.5 for execution
but only a 2.5 for artistic expression

Back we go now to the Scenic Lake Venue
for the Staying Under Water The Longest Competition
which Luke won
and it was so totally not fair
because he had scuba gear
and an Oxygen Tank
plus that flag isn't even from a real country

and the Jeremiah Johnson Archery Competion
which takes INTENSE concentration
involving complicated mouth contortions

with arrows that are almost faster than the speed of light!
(check out top right hand corner)

We discovered that blind people
have an especially hard time in this competition
so we let Judy be an "almost winner"

(little side note ....
Did you know blind people
can hunt deer in the State of Michigan
unchaperoned?!?!)

Per usual the over all winner was Cap'n Steve.
Bull's Eye every time.
However ....
later on he tested positive
for excessive amounts of caffeine and self importance.

And our gold medal Beachyball
winners were (sans bikinis) ....
Hannah (Kerri) and Annalise (Misty)

That gold is lip-smackin' good.
Eet Smakelijk, Beijing.

We had only one injury

but luckily our staff of super-qualified
Olympic Trainers and Sports Medicine people
had all the latest technology
handily at their disposal.

Friend or Foe

2008-09-21T17:39:00.000-07:00

BSL Wildlife
admired ...

and
abhored ...

Holy Batmobile Robin!

What's that little bugger
doing in a pail ?

Bumstead Ponderosa

2008-09-01T12:57:00.000-07:00

Remember the classic kid's book

"Gone-Away Lake"?
Published in 1957, ( a year before I was born),
it's still in print today.

In the book,
during their summer vacation,
Julian and his cousin Portia go hiking through the woods
and discover a place that looks like this:

"...They climbed up on the dock and walked it gingerly,
on the lookout for loose or missing planks.
The reeds that waved above their heads had been replaced
by a growth of plumed grass, still taller,
but as they broke through the last of this,
they found themselves on raised land,
close to one of the wrecked houses
... Now that they were close to it,
they could see what a ruin the old house was,
with broken windows and loose-toothed shutters.
Someone had carved initials into the porch railing,
and on one of the square porch pillars
a crop of fungus stuck out like turkey feathers."

'It looks haunt-y,' said Portia, drawing close to her cousin.

'I'd hate to be here at night. It's bad enough in plain real day.' "

Like Gone-Away Lake
Bumstead Ponderosa is a place where
time marches on,
and like the story in the book ....

"What happened is that the woods came and captured it...

'Something like the story of Sleeping Beauty, ' said Portia.

'Something like the story of Rip Van Winkle, ' said Julian.

'Yes, except that nothing sleeps inside but furniture,
and that's probably gone to pieces by now.
Time gets into anything; yes, indeed it does;
and weather helps it.' "

BTW: 225 feet of lake frontage
VERY private

Doe, a deer

2008-08-30T13:00:00.000-07:00

a female deer

and here she is....

she lives right here....
on Chapel Road

alongside Mr. Fox

and she's not very interested
in getting out of anyone's way

or any car's way

for precisely these two reasons:

and
they are....

.... yet, all is so peaceful
on the sandy byways
and in the wooded glen
and by the shores
of Gitchee Gumee
where sunbeams filter down
in dappled patterns
through lacy tree boughs
and......

then

suddenly
loudly

four kids
on a golf cart
coming careening down the road
and Doe-a-Deer says
(in deer language)
"I am so outta here!"

Eight Eight Two Thousand

2008-08-24T11:48:00.000-07:00

EIGHT!

The magical day has finally arrived.
8-8-2008.
The day of our BSL arrival.

For 2 weeks there will be a total suspension of:
1. ticketing drunken sailors
2. scrubbing toilets at Fox Motors
3. turning rhythmically challenged Dutch people into dancers
4. unraveling the mysteries of DHS
5. guiding Calvin students back onto the straight and narrow
6. untangling computer glitches
7. scooping bulk supplies of organic food
8. battening down hatches that keep unbattening
9. nurturing our covenant youth
10. extracting raccoons from chimneys

Hey. It's a New Olympic Event.
You get to guess who does what.

In the meantime, we watched
(until 2 or 3 am)
this particular guyacquire A LOT of gold
but ....
... still
we kinda liked him best when he did this...

That's right, Michael!
You better give your mother her propers
or we won't buy
even one poster of you
or your Greatest Olympic Moments DVD.

Additionally, we were perplexed by this "display"
during the opening ceremonies.
Admit it, didn't these "drums" look suspiciously
like COPY MACHINES
each with their respective office drone
prostrate before them,
pleading, stroking, and then
beating them to within an inch
of their electrical lives?Another area we were continually educated in
was that of the
Field of Mathematics,
never to be confused with Track and Field.

For instance:
16.725 and 16.725
is NOT the same number

and 13 is really 16 in Chinese.

Okay Okay
Sour grapes
and believe you me ALL of Big Star Lake
heard our vocal outrage
but we will let you be the judge:

Yup.
Definitely 16.
Not that these girls didn't deserve it.
We're just sayin'....

Our necks got a little sore from
all of that beach volleyball
and the swivelling back and forth
which is exhausting for
die-hard couch potatoes.

But Dathan Ritzenhein from Grand Rapids
(Technically he's from Rockford, a suburb or exurb)
Mr. Number Nine in the Marathon

made us eager to get
back on our treadmills
or a least walk to Mel's for an ice-cream sundae.

And in case you're thinking
that we've totally forgotten that
this is a Big Star Lake blog,
here's one last photo to pacify all 3 readers
until we come back with more....We call this "Moonrise Over Blue Horizon Bay"

....When the moon
hits your eye
like a big
pizza pie (from Mel's)
that's amore'....

A preview you won't want to miss!

2008-08-01T18:22:00.000-07:00

Van't Hof Olympicfest 2008 Promo from Lies Rosema on Vimeo.

Are we there yet?

2008-07-25T08:31:00.000-07:00

Here they are, Don & Mickie,
or, as we lovingly referred to our parents:
Donald Duck and Mickie Mouse....

Mickie Hofman & Don Van't Hof
about a year before they were married.
The back of the photo says:
Decoration Day (now called Memorial Day)
Big Star Lake 1948, South Shore

Well. Where to begin?

My mom has always been a "glass is half full" kind of person
which meshes rather nicely with my dad's
"glass is half empty" personality.
(Notice Mickie's smiley enthusiam and Don's
pensiveness in the photo above. Typisch.)

In respect to BSL this manifested itself firstly in
The Ritual of Packing.

This ritual began weeks in advance of our BSL holiday,
it was steeped with ever heightening heights of anticipation,
usually lasted longer than the vacation itself,
and perfectly reflected the difference in my parent's temperaments.

Mom would instruct us kids to begin making
tidy piles of our clothing
(which took seconds since everything we owned
were a few cast-offs, [thank you Hoogstrates,
now you know why God put you on the earth]),
beachtowels and other beach paraphanelia,
bird, flower, fish, and insect guides,
board games, books and fishing equipment.

That's right. That's it.

We did not own any:
dirt bikes
quads
speedboats
jet skis
water skis
or downhill skis for that matter.

Or an EasyBake Oven.

Or a Creeple People Maker.

Yet....we still had fun.

As you can see below,
we had oars, but no canoe.

Calvin (the dog) and Mickie
This is 31 years later, summer of 1979
and it looks like it was taken at Owen & Spaak's

anyhoodle......

The Ritual of Packing was a very important ritual
in our life because,
a) it took up the half of the summer we were not at BSL, and,
b) did I mention before that we lived in the ghetto?

Getting out of the ghetto, or even packing to get out of the ghetto
was the best imaginary play ever.

Then .... the Day We (finally) Left
we began

The Ritual of Loading the Car
also known as
The Ritual of Dad saying
"Mick, we're not gonna make it."
(a close-cousin to Dad saying
"Mick, this Christmas Tree is not going to stay up"
but, obviously, in a different season).

Into our Country Squire station wagon
we did jam:

6 children
2 adults
a lot of food (since buying up north was too expensive)
gas for the motor, ie, the eggbeater,
the eggbeater,
several deflated tractor tires,
ancient beach chairs in various stages of incredible disrepair,
a whole separate wardrobe for the chapel (unbelievable)
cleaning supplies for scouring rental cottages (WHY?)
(this will definitely be another post since,
to this day it still makes my blood boil),
and, well,
you get the picture.

See picture and multiply by 2
plus insert to-the-ceiling junkAs you can see,
Dutch people excel in making every possible area of life
unbelievably labor-intensive.
Even vacations.

During both of these rituals please envision
Mickie flitting about in her state of undiluted euphoria,
possibly with a baby on her hip,
and Don lurching about in his state of undiluted exasperation
always with a cigarette jutting from his mouth.

Are we on the road yet?
Praise the Lord and Sound the Timbrels,
Yes Yes Yes.

At this point my Mom is purring,
"Isn't this nice?", or,
"Aren't we having fun?", or,
"Let's all play the Alphabet Game!"

In counterpoint to these cheery observations Dad is totally,
"I hope we don't run outta gas", or,
"Does the car feel like it's pulling to the right?", or,
"Better pray we don't hit a deer!"

And of course we're all piled in the back,
like cord-wood, car-sicker than a dog,
in a miasma of blue cigarette smoke.

Are we having fun yet?
Mmmmmm .... no.

Because US 131 was just an iddy-biddy,
going-nowhere highway at the time,
we always headed north on M37.
This brings us to our next ritual
which occurred somewhere south of White Cloud.

The Ritual of Being The First To Spot The Man (fake)
Asleep in His Red Dog House (real).
Ok, I know this is not a man but a boy,
and he's not sleeping but very much awake,
yet it was the closest photo I could find
even though I can't believe Newaygo County
didn't save a picture of
this valuable National Landmark
for all posterity to google whenever a certain
somebody might need it.

A red dog house in front of a white people house
on the left side of M37
and a pair of blue jean pant legs
tucked into work boots
protruding out the "front door".
Somebody must have a photo
of this somewhere!

We're getting closer, Tonto!

In rapid succession come the:
roadside BBQs in dilapidated, weather-worn stands,

a bazillion Mad Jon Escape signs
(kind of a 1960s Burma Shave thing),
and, Yes!, the first of many
Johnny's Bandstand signs.

Now the Country Squire
driven by the urban blue-collar worker,
like a trusty steed
is steadily honing in on
Big Star Lake Road and all its niceties:

Horse Farm where horse tried to kill me, check
Marquette Golf Trails, check
Trail leg to the PM, check
Access to Oddfellow and Rebekah, check
Road spur to Evergreen Chapel, check
The Bowery, check
The Blue Horizon, check
BSL Chapel, check
Chapel Road, check check check.

Night has descended,
the boat motor oil has been decanted from the
gigantic tupperware tub of bran-muffin batter (it happened!),
the treats for the next several weeks
have all been surreptitiously eaten,
everyone is sufficiently gag sick,
and out of the gloaming
our giant Van't Hofmobile
floats and dips and rises over all the
twists and turns and hills and dales
that describe lovely, sandy Chapel Road
until we pony up to the cottage
amid frantic whispers from both parents
that we must "Be Quiet" and
"Zip our Lips" because even though
this is a funfilled, sunsoaked resort,
it's a Dutch resort (for the most part)
and therefore it's Like Church,
and the biggest transgression EVER
in the Dutch diaspora
is to Make A Scene.

So Don tiptoes up to the back of the cottage,
followed in close succession by
Mickie Dave Judy Steve Joanie Karen Janie,
inserts the key taken from under the doormat,
gingerly opens the warped old door
so as to not cause it to squeeeeeeeek,
and suddenly, maddeningly, surprisingly
the door explodes outward and
all manner of furniture and beach equipment
and fishing poles rain down on Don
and Uncle John can be heard
maniacally cackling and gasping
and now the whole South Shore is wide awake!!Uncle John maniacally laughing even as a toddler,
with his sister Mickie at Getz Park in Holland, MI.

Happy 81st Birthday, Mickie!

Marguerite Hofman = June 29

2008-06-29T15:34:00.000-07:00

Daughter of Jan & Jennie Hofman

Wife of Ade Vermeer
Mother of Judy, Sandy, Dan, Carol & Bob
Grandmother of Scott, Steve,
Danielle, Gina, Andrea,
Lynda, Jeff, Matt,
Megan, Chris, Josh, Ben,
Nimbe & Noelia
Beloved Big Sister of Wally, Claire, Ellie, Mickie & John Junior
Unparalleled in the gift of hospitality
Unrivaled in selfless giving
Possessor of incredible sense of humor
Storyteller extraordinaire
Devout Christian
Really really missed
6/29/1913 -- 5/9/2006

Aunt Marge in her typical Big Star mode,
surrounded by the kiddies, 1973.
(l to r: Danielle Ricucci Morton, Matt [Buck] Hofman,
Boo Phelps, Jeffrey Vermeer)

OOPS! And this one kinda
floated away...

Lynda Vermeer Schab!

The PM

2008-05-31T09:25:00.001-07:00

Art Hoogstrate fishing the PM.

In the Van't Hof family, and probably in

many other Hofman families as well,
"The PM" doesn't refer to the afternoon
or the evening
or to an autopsy-type exam
or to the leader of some European country.....
Nope.
It refers to the Pere Marquette River, a stone's throw
(okay, an Olympian discuss thrower's throw away)
from BSL where a whole lot of this activity is going on.....

The Pere Marquette is a pretty great trout stream
and people come from all over to fish it.
Hence, the Orvis Lodge on M37.
If you wondered what in the world drew this
monied, pseudo-sportsmen's crowd to lowly little Baldwin,
Now You Know.
The PM.

This is Part One of the PM.
The pinkish square is Baldwin.

And this is Part Two of the PM.
See, it empties out into Lake Michigan at Ludington
after passing alongside of Scottville.

Remember Scottville?
You don't want no mushrooms, do you?
Or don't you?

Okay, enough about mushrooms.

Moving on we come to this guy pictured below.
His name was Father Marquette and because he was French
he went by Pere Marquette.
Here he is saying to an Indian,
"Getteth thee to the PM to be baptized,
or lo these many calamaties shall mayhaps befall ye".

Or something like that.

He's helpfully pointing the way.

Pere Marquette did a lot of exploring in his heyday
and he was all over the Great Lakes region doing things like
proselytizing and learning new languages and
guiding and trapping and founding towns like
Sault Ste. Marie and Saint Ignace.
But what he really really really wanted to do
was find that big honking river called
The Mississippi.
Eventually he hooked up with another Frenchman named
Louis Joliet, and in Praire du Chien, Wisconsin
(which is just their fancy way of saying gopher)
they entered the Mighty Mississip'
and travelled down it to within
435 miles of the Gulf of Mexico.
Whoa! That's some canoe trip!

And you know what? They could have gone on,
but they turned back because they kept bumping into
Indians with European Trinkets, yes TRINKETS,
that were Not From Them.
This meant some other Europeans were tramping around
below the Mason Dixon Line and this did not
bode well for Pere and Louie.

So this fearless twosome hightailed it back to Michigan
where Marquette promptly died of dysentery in Ludington.

And now, on the river that bears his name,
we do a lot of this...........This is Abe Hoekwater and Drew Rosema
workin' the river.

Fish On!

Yeah, he's hiding in that hole.

Come to Papa......

Bingo!

YES!

Another satisfying day on the PM.
Merci, Father Marquette.

BSL Mystery #5: The Mystery of the Triple Negative

2008-05-04T17:09:00.000-07:00

Leaving the environs of Big Star Lake, if you drive north for a ways
and then drive west for a longer ways,
you will eventually come to the town of Ludington.
You can't go any farther than Ludington because it's situated
ever so picturesquely on the shore of Lake Michigan.

When the weather at BSL was unbeach-like
we often went to Ludington for the day
and with gas costing $.39 a gallon,
who could blame us. On the way you passed through (and still do)
several very small towns such as Walhalla, Custer and Scottville.

On this particular day our mystery unfolds in the town of Custer.

When I was little (the 1960s)
Custer was the home of
Johnny's Bandstand.
This was the place that all of the
bored, restless teens from BSL went to on a weekend night.
It offered live music, usually of this garage-band caliber....

.... the "Starlit Room featuring Steaks, Chops, Shrimp and Chicken"
and "Rollerskating every Wed. & Fri. nights."
In case you were wondering, Johnny's Bandstand was
"Michigan's No. 1 Teen Spot" and their motto was
"Bridgeing (sic) the Generation Gap".
(All of this info was gleaned from a full page ad
in the Big Star Lake Association Directory of 1971).

For me, it was exciting to cruise by Johnny's and imagine
what my older siblings and cousins and their friends were dancing or skating to
on a Friday or Saturday night.
Like most kids, I suffered from the delusion that
everyone else was having a lot more fun than me.

In addition to Johnny's, Custer had a drive in restaurant
of the Dog-n-Suds variety
where a carhop skated (or sashayed) up to your car,
took your order, then returned
with your food on a tray and hooked it to your car window.
This is what a carhop looked like, minus the good-looks
(at least in Custer).

Now on this particular day, Judy VH, me, Eunice H., Debbie H.
and probably others, were on our way to Ludington
and we decided to stop in Custer to get a bite to eat.

Sure enough, here came the carhop all carhoppy up to the car and
she took our order. When we finished indicating what we wanted,
she scribbled it down in her genuine clip-on carhop notebook
and then looked up and said,
"Don't nobody want no mushrooms?"

To a person, we all gazed back at her with what can
only be described as
the typical deer-in-the-headlights stare (ie, stunned)
and struggled to respond in some coherent manner
to this impossible query.

"I said," she said, "Don't nobody want no mushrooms?!?"
She then jabbed the laminated menu in frustration in case
we didn't know what a Custer deepfried mushroom looked like.

It looked like this.....

Well!
We were very aware of what a deepfried mushroom looked like.
What we couldn't comprehend was how to respond to
the Dreaded Triple Negative.

"Yes, nobody don't want no mushrooms",
or
"No, nobody don't want no mushrooms."

????

So there we sat like Lot's wife who had turned into a pillar of salt,
except that we were four pillars of speechless salt.

Or,
I know, I know
we were kinda like the cow of Bashan
that was struck dumb,
or wait, it was the ass of Balaam
and Balaam was struck dumb.

Whatever.
You get the picture.
We were speechless.

Now, to be fair,
there is an argument for our carhop.
Read what Wikipedia has to say on the subject...

"Today, the double negative is often considered
the mark of an uneducated speaker,
but it used to be quite common in English
... Chaucer made extensive use of double negatives in his poetry,
sometimes even using triple negatives."

blah blah blah
and, then, I love Wiki's anecdotal references:

"In the film, Mary Poppins, Dick Van Dyke uses a double negative
when he says, If you don't want to go nowhere.
A double negative is also famously used
in the first two lines of the song
'Another Brick In The Wall' by Pink Floyd, sung by children
we don't need no education
we don't need no thought control..."

Well, in that case, Wiki,
WE don't need no mushrooms,
thanks all the same!

Taking lots of little baby steps ....

2008-04-30T18:09:00.000-07:00

.... so I can get back to blogging.

Life suddenly got very busy.

In the meantime,
I'm needing some more photos
from people other than Van't Hofs!

I'm thinking:
Vermeers
Hofmans
Hoogstrates
the other Hofmans
and various "covenant spawn"
as my brother would say.

The older, the better.

Have your kids show you how to do it.

Aunt Jemima Pancakes ....

2008-04-02T16:41:00.001-07:00

.... without her syrup

is like the spring
without the fall.

There's only
one thing worse
in the universe,
And that's
no Aunt Jemima's
at all!

Alrighty then....
That's just about enough of that.
And what,
you may ask,
does this homily have to do with BSL?

Are we supposed to sit around a campfire and
sing it to the tune of
KUMBAYA?

Are we supposed to have a
pancake eating contest on Sundays
when we can't go swimming?

No no no.
Quite simply, on a more culinary level
it put me in mind of this:

That's right, Nibblemix,
or in certain pockets of linguistic corruption,
Chex Mix.

When we go to Big Star Lake
and get all in that Blue Horizony kinda mood,
we find it's impossible to be done
without ample amounts
of Nibblemix.

(I'm capitalizing this appetizer because it's almost
a sacred thing in our family.
If we had an Ark of the Covenant
in our Holy of Holies
Nibblemix would be in it.)

There is a certain person in our family
who is in charge of making
all the Nibblemix
and she doesn't mess around.

Notice the half menorah in the picture.
Instead of the traditional 8 candles
we use only 4 on the Nibblemix Altar
because that's about how many days it takes
to convert all these boxes of cereal
into Nibblemix.

If you want to be an honorary Hofman
please leave behind your frankincense and myrrh.
Just bring us Nibblemix and preferrably made
with NO nuts, hardly any wheat chex,
very few cheerios, and lots of corn chex.

BSL Mystery #4: The Mystery of the ....

2008-03-29T10:29:00.000-07:00

.... Missing Town of Marlborough

**Click right on the map to make it bigger**
(Map is from Farm Ownership Plat Book, circa 1930s)

Yes indeedy!!
Lake County has its own ghost town
and it is quite a mysterious place indeed.

The story goes like this:
Many moons ago when Potawatomis
still roamed the lush Manistee woods,
when Aishcum County had just recently
been renamed Lake County,
and lumber barons were busy harvesting
the immense pine forests
(but before Al Capone laid-low like the low-life he was
somewhere on Big Star Lake),
a village literally sprang-up overnight,
a village that was dedicated to the manufacturing of

ta da

cement.

Yes, cement. Possibly used in the death of Jimmy Hoffa.

Read what Bob Sculley a reporter from the
Grand Rapids Press had to say on September 12, 1971:

"Swallowed amid the scrub oak and sassafras
of the Lake County hinterlands
are the massive remains of a huge ghost factory,
its crumbling concrete buildings, some of them
larger than two football fields,
are all that's left of
the Great Northern Portland Cement Company,
an industrial dream that turned into a nightmare..."

(Okay, it doesn't quite rival the Coliseum,
but this is Baldwin, people!)
These photos were taken in October 0f 1978.

Sculley continues: "The town, the lakes
and surrounding property of the company
covered 8000 acres in Lake and Newaygo counties.
Workmen were brought into Lake County in 1902 to construct
the cement plant and Marlborough.
The town's initial construction included
an 88 room hotel, 72 homes, a large general store,
opera house, school,
a mile-long railway connecting to the Pere Marquette Railroad,
an electric plant and a municipal water company...
time has dimmed local knowledge of the plant.
Nowadays, many area residents know little or nothing
of the old factory.
Some will tell you the name of the
ghost town is 'Mulberry'...

The factory holds a fascination for visitors...
but in its present state, the plant's
gaping crevices and crumbling walls,
unmarked by any warning signs, constitute what
attorneys call an 'attractive nuisance',
sort of an accident waiting to happen."

This photo is titled,
"Accident waiting to happen", 1978

According to Sculley: "The idea for the cement plant
was born in 1901 when a group of Eastern investors
created the GNPCC with an initial capital of $4 million...
the area south of Baldwin was chosen for the cement plant
because that region is rich in a substance called 'marl',
then used in making cement.
Farmers, some of them from as far away as Indiana,
swapped their lands for stock in the cement company,
and took jobs building the plant.

A boom-town atmosphere gripped Marlborough.
In one Marlborough home, 30 workmen labored on
three shifts, using the beds in three shifts.
The cement plant, which opened in 1903,
consisted of 14 grinding mills, 9 kilns,
a warehouse, machine shop, boiler plant, blacksmith shop,
pattern shop and utility buildings.

The plant produced 1200 barrels of cement a day.
In 1904, the company was a prominent industrial exhibitor
at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis.

Deb Hoogstrate atop one the "crumbling walls".

Eunice Hoogstrate and Lois Mulder walking the walls.
Both photos are dated 1970

Bloggers, please read on: "But the nation's cement industry
was then undergoing rapid technological change.
And in the midst of Marlborough's boom,
someone somewhere else had perfected a cheaper way of making cement...

By late 1906, the Michigan Trust Co.
of Grand Rapids was appointed receiver of the firm...
On May 5, 1908, the property was sold
on Lake County courthouse steps at Baldwin
for the giveaway price of $85,000...
So there in the Lake County wilderness,
stood a newly-built but totally obsolete
multi-million dollar factory and its
handsome model city of Marlborough.

Eunice Hoogstrate says, "The End"

Amazing Marv

2008-03-18T17:02:00.000-07:00

Over the course of many BSL years

the VHs, a family of six kids,
and the Huizinghs, a family of five kids
spent several happy summer days together.
Our ages were roughly the same
and if you threw in random Hoogstrates (seven kids!),
it all worked out pretty well.

Pretty well for us, that is.

You see, the Huizinghs had quite a few things we had
a hankering for.

A cottage, for one thing. Not a cottage they rented.
A cottage they owned.
It was white and clapboardy and looked
exactly like what a cottage in Northern Michigan should look like
and it was perfect.

If that wasn't idyllic enough, consider the fact that
their cottage had a little wishing well in the back yard
all cozily nestled in a quaint piney-wood.
Underfoot was a cushion of springy pine needles
and the air was riddled with pine-scent
and you could wander over there and just drift away,
kinda like the Calgon commercial,
and it felt like you were in the
Disney Snow White and the Seven Dwarves movie.
(The little well was nonfunctioning, but still.)

This is Luanne H. and me in 1966 in front of Strovens cottage.
Luanne was a year younger than me
and tall like her Dad.
She's the one missing some teeth.

And I know I'm getting a little side-tracked,
but below are our daughters, Audra and Laina,
30 years later.

They just loved them some Barbies.
Laina's Barbie is modeled after
Lady Luck at the Bowery.

Okay, back to the main story....
Another thing Huizinghs had was
a sleek shiny speed boat with lots of horsepower.
We had a rowboat with "the eggbeater".
And, fortunately for us Hofmans,
Mr. Huizingh was very generous with his boat.

I don't know how many BSLers Marv Huizingh
taught to ski but there are probably quite a few
adults out there who owe their mastery of water sports to Marv.
I do know that he spent many pains-taking hours
with our ghetto family, and probably gallons of gas.
I remember our parents admonishing us:
"Only go once around the bay, otherwise
you'll use up all of Mr. Huizingh's gas."

Marv truly had the gift of hospitality and there
was hardly a weekend that went by when he didn't
have some group or club or individuals up at his cottage
being fed and entertained and the day always
drew to a close
with his pontoon boat tour of Big Star Lake.

But........
this is another gift Marv Huizingh has:

Marv is an amazing skier.
He had a little routine he'd do every once in a while.
First he'd get up on a disc, which is no mean feat in itself.

He'd take a little spin around the bay, doing flashy stuff
on the disc, and then, while passing the dock,
someone would hand him this......

..... a stepladder!!

Amazing!!
And the best part of all....
Marv is 75 years old when he's doing this!

Beauty is in the eye ....

2008-03-14T17:07:00.000-07:00

....of the beholder

Okay. If all these mopey people stopped
staring out at the lake,
wishing it wasn't a Sunday,
so they could just go swimming
( kidding!)

And if they simply
turned around
and looked behind them,
THIS
is what they'd see...

These miracles are the handiwork
of Deborah Hoogstrate Cooney
and they are guaranteed to lift your spirits
even on a sunny Sunday when
everyone else gets to go swimming
EXCEPT YOU!

Enjoy

BSL Mystery #3: The Mystery of the Missing ....

2008-03-08T08:22:00.000-08:00

.... Wedding Ring

This is Phil (a real stand up guy)

This is the ring that Phil lost

This is the girl that gave Phil the ring
that Phil lost
(yes, they have owies on their legs but
it was not a domestic incident
due to the ring)

This is the cottage where
the girl and Phil stayed
where the ring was lost

This is beach in front of the cottage
where the girl and Phil stayed
where the ring was possibly lost

This is the boy
who searched the beach
(notice trusty metal-detector)
in front of the cottage
where the girl and Phil stayed
where the ring was unfortunately lost

This is the lake in front of the beach
in front of the cottage
where the girl and Phil stayed
where the ring was probably lost
(just dive right in and have a look-see)

This is the girl
who searched the lake
in front of the beach
in front of the cottage
where the girl and Phil stayed
where the ring was most likely lost

This story does not have a happy ending

so far,

but......

Gone Fishin'

2008-03-04T16:39:00.000-08:00

Historically, Hofman's have spent a lot of time pursuing the wily fish.

If we were in a cottage by Mucky Harbor,
we had to fish way over by the Blue Horizon.
If we were in a cottage by Munising Point,
we had to fish across the bay at Pine Grove Beach.
In other words,
the fish were always biting
where ... we were not.
This ensured maximum exposure to the possibility of
running out of gas,
or madly putt-putting home
after the no-wake curfew
and hoping the sheriff didn't catch us.

Fishing was instilled in us at an early age.
It was a bare bones operation that often
required bare backs.

Some took to it immediately. To wit:
Dave VH and Faith Hoogstrate Ottenhoff
practicing in VH's backyard, 1953.

and.......

Scottie Seth just as thrilled as he can be
in August of 1977
with Jeff Vermeer (thanks Lynda!!)
and Stevie & Boo Phelps.

.... aaaaand

Don VH in 1955

Even later in life,
still lucky
Don VH in 1999 with
Annalise Alphenaar & Rachel Reid

Woohoo Arthur William....

Bill Hoogstrate, 1969

..... and then you have to clean them, Billy
(notice "pursed" lips in the "Eeeyew" formation).
Yik yik and triple yik!

Billy & Steve VH, 1969.

..... and another spectacular haul
Lies Rosema Kelder in 1988.
Once again, a bare-backed catch.

Hannah Van't Hof says, "The End!"

*to be continued*

Did somebody say something about ......

2008-02-29T17:16:00.000-08:00

.....FOOD?
Ellen Van't Hof with her pipin' hot rolls in 1979.

And don't forget the protein
all you
carb-laden Hofmans!

Oh jah .... we definitely need a
vegetable
(Uncle Art supervising, Grace VH, Mickie VH,
Lies Rosema & Don VH corn husking in 1988).

And for dessert,
some finger-lickin' ice-cream.
(Stevie Phelps,
just as cute as he can be,
sitting on his Grandma Claire's lap in 1969.)

BSL Mystery #2: The Burning Bowery

2008-02-25T16:32:00.000-08:00

As kids, we loved loved loved The Blue Horizon, but sometimes,

when The Blue Horizon was out of milk or the GR Press or nightcrawlers,
we had to go a little farther along Big Star Lake Road
and shop at The Bowery instead.
The Bowery was a mom & pop type convenience store
with a gas pump in the parking lot.
It was on the edge of what had been Mil-Jon Resort.
Later on Mil-Jon, (which had quaint green cabins as opposed to
The Blue Horizon's robin egg blue cabins),
became Helder's North Bay Resort.

There was always a little air of the illicit about the Bowery.

For one thing, they sold alcohol (gulp!).

And.......
there was this racy picture by the door.

Hmmmm.... I don't think this lady is Dutch, do you?

Unfortunately, Lady Luck ran out of luck in 1994.

This is what happened:

FIRE!!

This is why it was a total loss:

The mystery, then, is two-fold:
1. How old do you think that fire truck is?
2. Who wanted the Bowery To Burn?
Tee-totalers, random people who got sick on their pizza,
The Bikini-Top Burglar,
or the owner?

Hofmans = Fashion Challenged

2008-02-22T06:56:00.000-08:00

Elhart's Cottage, 1977
Don Van't Hof, Art Hoogstrate, Barbie Boo Phelps

Let us set aside the obvious fact that poor Boo has resorted to
roasting marshmallows in an unlit fireplace for fun,
seemingly ignored by her elders and left to her own devices,
and address, instead,
the more pressing concern
of the Hofman clan's inability to wear
appropriate attire while on vacation.

What is going on with Don VH?
How is this even possible?
My head is throbbing!
Notice how Uncle Art is avoiding direct eye contact.
Boo is too, for that matter.

Three simple words: Never. Mix. Plaids.

In case you missed it on the first photo, regardez:

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

2008-02-17T12:07:00.000-08:00

..... 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.

The Grandmas

2008-02-16T10:15:00.001-08:00

August 1989: Claire, Mickie & Marge

How many countless hours did these Grandmas put into their grandkids having
a good BSL time?
We will forever be in their debt!
Cooking for truckloads of kids (and their friends),
wiping faces, wiping bottoms, referee-ing games, putting on life jackets, taking off life jackets, making sure the little ones did not go
OUT PAST THE DOCK,
singing children to sleep, rousing children in the morning,
taking loads of laundry to the Blue Horizon Landromat,
DEFROSTING REFRIGERATORS
(an unbelievable, only-at-BSL-type rule!),
going on nature walks with the kiddies, putting worms on hooks,
taking fish off hooks, organizing crafts,
impaling 20 gazillion marshmallows
onto 20 gazillion sticks, chanting
STAY AWAY FROM THE FIRE every 30 seconds,
and the list goes on and on....

1989, Owen & Spaak's cottage
L to R: Lies Rosema Kelder, Patrick Ottenhof, Matthew Reid, Drew Rosema, Elliot Ottenhof

Here is "Grandma Mickie" conducting a TV Tray Orchestra, and, yes, the kids are all standing on a bed. I remember this photo well, because Elliot, on the right, had just wacked Drew with his "drumstick" for being out of sync with the rest of the orchestra. You can tell by the look on Drew's face that he is thinking about asking for a new tray-partner.

BSL Mystery #1: The Mystery of the Missing.....

2008-02-13T08:37:00.000-08:00

.....Bikini Tops!

The year was 1968 (or maybe it was 1969, no matter), the location was Stroven's cottage on Chapel Road, the time was deep dark night and all the little Hofman offspring were sleeping with visions of canceled Sunday services in their heads, when out of the gloom and gloaming came an ancient car with a bad muffler, idling briefly behind the slumbering cottages and breaking the idyllic BSL-type silence, and then off it sped with it's stolen loot -- Bikini Tops!

The motive? Too weird to even contemplate!

But, hey! It was the 60s. In a way it was kinda groovy,
so Eunice and Judy wrote a song
about it.......

and Debbie decided to wear her
beach cover-up
for the final two weeks of summer vacation.

Although a lot of baiting with more bathing suits and Nancy Drewlike sleuthing went on, and our beloved Blue Horizon posted more photos of other purloined bathing attire, (or rather, denuded clotheslines where swimwear had recently hung), no perpetrator was ever apprehended, which is kinda creepy because that means.........

He's still out there!

Bright Gems For His Crown

2008-02-12T17:06:00.000-08:00

1993, Elhart's Cottage

Top row, left to right: Emily & Jennie Cooney, Laina Rosema,
Matt Hoogstrate,Luke Van't Hof,
Grant Alphenaar, Lies Rosema Kelder
Bottom row: Jake & Katie Hoogstrate,
Missy Cooney, Grace Van't Hof,
Drew Rosema, Natasha Cooney

"Let us now praise famous men
And their children after them."

Even More Jewels .... HELP!

2008-02-12T16:46:00.000-08:00

August 1977
Wow!

Your guesses are as good as mine.
I know for a fact that that's Uncle John in the back row,
fifth from the right,
making rabbit ears behind Aunt Dot's head.

Some things never change.

Precious Jewels .....

2008-02-12T16:30:00.000-08:00

"When He cometh, when He cometh,
To make up His jewels.
All His jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own...."
page 150 in the Big Star Lake Chapel Hymnal

This is Memorial Day 1948, folks, and the jewels from left to right are:
John Hankie Hofman, Danny Vermeer, Judy Vermeer Seth,
Sandy Vermeer Ricucci, Barbara Jean Hoogstrate Quinlan
and Jimmy Hofman.

Note to Judy and Sandy: isn't it a sin in the Christian Reformed Church to be quite so happy? Maybe that's why John & Jimmy are brandishing sticks.

Whole Lotta Hofmans!!

2008-02-10T10:35:00.001-08:00

1967 (see below for who's who)

Wow! I think every Hofman family was represented here, at least in part, except John & Dot Hofman's wild western bunch. But don't worry, Uncle John, I've got some of you and yours to be posted later. Okay, I'm going to give this whirl and I'll see if I can get this even half right. Starting from the front lefthand corner and working around the picnic table I think these individuals are as follows: Marge Vermeer, Claire Hoogstrate, Wally Hofman, Edene Hofman (in sunglasses), Billy Hoogstrate, Jane Van't Hof, Don VH, Stephanie Barrows, Elly Barrows, Mickie VH, Joanie VH Rosema, Eunice Hoogstrate Hayes, Janice Hofman, Karen VH Reid (in front of E and J), Judy VH Alphenaar, Steve VH, and Tommy Barrows.

I'm not sure what the celebration was but I think it was probably one of those massive potluck picnics we had every so often. I was crazy about those picnics because we VH children were able to gorge ourselves on food we were never normally served. In particular I remember Aunt Edene's deviled eggs and baked beans served in a heavy brown bowl that meant some serious cooking had been going on. The closest we ever got to baked beans at home were lima beans and to this day I just can't go there. Aunt Claire made lasagna and I would eat so much I would be in pain.

P.S. I like how Aunt Marge's and cousin Tommy's black eyeglasses kinda frame the photo. This makes me think Uncle Art, with his artistic bent, probably took the picture. I guess Uncle Ade was bravingly manning the grill and flipping burgers.

John & Jennie

2008-02-09T13:08:00.001-08:00

This is Grandma Jennie Hofman and her photo is stamped on the back with the date, June 8, 1948. She looks like she's standing on Munising Point with Oddfellow & Rebecca Camp being that spit of land over her shoulder. I know Grandma & Grandpa rented D'Archangel's cottage which is situated on this very point. Never the "comeliest" of women, I still find it VERY impressive that her stomach is so flat after eight pregnancies! Now, let us exam the dress code for a minute. Grandma is rockin' that linen dress with the pearl earrings and the gold watch. That's exactly what I would pick for beachwear at BSL.

Below is a picture of Grandpa John Hofman (he's the one sitting down in the boat -- smart idea, John). This particular bay looks to me to be the one that culminates (dissipates) into Mucky Harbor. What I find so impressive about this photo is the sight, preserved for all eternity, of men fishing in neckties! It's kinda like, Robin Hood, Men In Tights! This photo is even older and is similar in dimension to Hofman photos I have from the 1930s. We know they're old because, look Ma, no cottages!

Blue Horizon = Good Times

2008-02-09T06:54:00.000-08:00

1989, Owen & Spaak's Cottage
Left to right: Matt Reid, Lies Rosema Kelder, Valerie Reid, Drew Rosema, Grace Van't Hof

How to describe the Blue Horizon? Hmmmmm......maybe part general store, part laundromat, part candy counter, part bait shop, part front porch, part information central (including newspapers and a payphone and a bulletin board), but DEFINITELY, it was all about the ice cream. In our family, Blue Moon was the perennial favorite. (Trivial Pursuit Question/ BSL Version: What is the flavor of Blue Moon ice cream?). Usually the Van't Hof day was capped off by pulling on any old thing over a still-wet swimsuit, skin chafing from the sun and sand, and walking the mile or so to the Blue Horizon to agonize over the ice cream selections. Shoes were never a consideration so the walk involved an extensive stretch of hotfootin' it down the broiling tar of BSL Road, ice cream cones dripping profusely, until we reached the luxurious squishy-cool sand of Chapel Road. Once we had to make a wide detour around a Blue Racer Snake that was partially run over by a car and had its midsection permanently melded to the asphalt. It was so long it stretched across one entire lane. Yuk Yuk and TRIPLE YUK! The Blue Horizon eventually evolved into Bozo's, and now its called Mel's, but in our Hofman psyche, it will forever be known as the Blue Horizon.

Below I have lifted verbatim some thoughts that Deborah Hoogstrate Cooney posted on the bigstarlakehistory.com website (A must read, btw. Be sure to click on everything because there are all kinds of hidden gems).

I've been at Big Star Lake every summer of my life. It has played a big role in my family's history. My mother, Claire Hofman (who was born in 1919) vacationed at Big Star before she was married in 1941. She and my father, Rev. Arther Hoogstrate, then vacationed there every year of their marriage of 50+. I came on the scene in 1955 when my father was the minister of Alpine Ave. Christian Reformed church in Grand Rapids. At that time we rented a small cottage from the D'Archangels, just down from Munising Point. I believe that they owned a bigger and grander cottage on the point at that time. We then moved west and were in the Owen and Spaak and Stroven cottages. Marv Huizingh used to pull us on skiis, as well as entertain all of us with his water antics such as being pulled by a boat while sitting or standing on a chair on a disk. It was great!

We called the western swamp area "Mucky Harbor," but that is probably only a Hofman-Hoogstrate term. We'd take a canoe into Mucky Harbor and, yes, we would pick the white and yellow water lilies before it was illegal to do so.

The Blue Horizon, the Bowery, the Nook-in-the-Woods, and the Bait Shop also played an important role in our vacations. My mom and aunts would do the laundry at the Blue Horizon, and we kids would walk to the Blue Horizon to get candy or the GR Press, or to ride the coin operated horse out front.

Speaking of the horse. We knew we had arrived at the lake each year when the first person in the car spotted the horse!

Big Star Lake was quite primitive back in the '50s and '60s and I remember having huge kettles of water heated on the stove to be poured into the big kitchen sinks for our Saturday night baths. Of course, there were no telephones in the cottages back then, and with my father being a minister, he would have to leave his name at the Blue Horizon in case someone in his church/parish happened to die or be in need of immediate pastoral care. The Blue Horizon personnel would then drive down Chapel Road and alert my dad that he had a telephone call. This didn't happen often, but there were a few times that this scenario played out.

One last memory was that of July of 1969. Only a few people had TVs in their cottages, and so many people crowded into the Klassen cottage to watch Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin take the first steps on the moon. Each summer, Gerry Klassen, always interested in space, often had a telescope pointing into the heavens. It was through his telescope that I first saw Jupiter's moons. He also meticulously built a beautiful wooden canoe, which was passed on the Marv Huizingh, which was further passed along to my brother Bill Hoogstrate. We now have this relic at our own cottage in the north bay, near the current MELs.

Thank you for this opportunity to reminisce. Deborah Hoogstrate-Cooney

No, This is not an inbred "DELIVERANCE" type family ......

2008-02-08T18:17:00.000-08:00

....it's just various Hofmans
wearing underwear on their heads and,
in one case, a loincloth.

Welcome, everyone, to my new project,
a blog celebrating 75 years of Hofmans vacationing
at Big Star Lake in Northern Michigan.
I hope to upload tons of photos and group them
more or less by decade.
I also hope to garner lots of Big Star memories
from Hofmans flung far and wide.

1973, an Art Class taught by Ellen Van't Hof featuring
The Beauty Of Tie Dye

Back row: Judy VH Alphenaar, Gwen Primus Hendrikse (friend), Joanie VH Rosema, Karen VH Reid, Don Van't Hof, Claire Hoogstrate, Art Hoogstrate, Bill Hoogstrate, Ellen Van't Hof
Kneeling: Jane Van't Hof, Mickie Van't Hof