Tuesday, 6/11

Today's a big day in Marquette history.

It was 156 years ago today that most of Marquette burned to the ground in the Great Fire of 1868. It was a tragedy in which, thankfully, no one died. And in a way, it was a good thing, as it forced a young Marquette to change and become the city we now love. I'll actually be leading a pop-up tour for the History Center tonight about the Great Fire as well as (among others) the fires talked about in this new “Pieces of this Past”. So if you wanna join us at 630 at the History Center, you're more than welcome.

Otherwise, enjoy this story of three more fires, none of which caused as much damage as the one in 1868, but which (at least in one case) have a little more mystery to them.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/10

They're all quite interesting. I just haven't made up my mind on them yet.

Believe it or not, it's been a month & two days since Loraine and & I left for Germany (wild, right?). As I wrote before we left, one of the things I love about Germany is their tea; you can walk into any German grocery store and choose from dozens (if not hundreds) of different flavors from which to sample. So I sampled. In fact, here's what I bought while over there--

A couple of them were teas I love and bought more of—green tea with orange and ginger, and the legendary fennel-anise-carraway seed tea that causes people to roll their eyes but causes my tastebuds to scream out in pleasure. There were, however, a couple I've never tried, and those are the ones that I've been trying to form an opinion of the past few weeks. Going from left to right in the picture, they are...

A vanilla-blueberry mix,

A plum-cinnamon combination,

And a strawberry-mint concoction.

Of the three, the vanilla-blueberry has a very unique taste. In fact, it's one that I could see entering the pantheon of  Jim's Great German Teas ™ , but I have to sample it a little more to make that decision. The plum-cinnamon is okay; I don't know if this makes sense or not, but it tastes more like a “winter” tea to me, so perhaps in a few months (sadly) when the weather starts to turn (assuming, of course, we actually HAVE a winter this year) my opinion of it will have changed.

And then there's the strawberry-mint. One of my favorite German teas every is a strawberry-mint Rooibos tea that you can only get if you have a hotel that serves Eilles-brand teas; you can't buy it in a store (and trust me, I looked). By itself, the strawberry-mint tea (which was the closest analogue of it I could find in stores) really doesn't do much for me. However, I just picked some plain Rooibos tea, and when I have a little calm in my life (as well as a clean palate) I'll steep the two bags together in an attempt to create my own strawbery-mint-Rooibos tea.

Will it work? Well, even if it doesn't taste the same as the kind I so adore, at least I'll be drinking German tea, which means that it won't be a waste of my time. Wish me luck!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 6/7

Wow. The total really WAS that small?

As even they admitted, it's a bit late in the year for the National Weather Service in Marquette to release snow totals for the winter that really wasn't a winter. But release them they did yesterday, and two numbers really stood out for me. The first? That no place in the UP—not one—received over 200” of snow this year.

The other? That here in the city of Marquette we received a whopping (double checking the number just to make sure) 34 inches of snow this past winter.

34 inches. That's less than a meter of snow. If you were hold up a yardstick, the total of snow—every single flake we received this year—wouldn't reach to the top. And if you consider that we received 12 inches of snow—over a third of our entire total—during one weekend in January; well, then you understand just how non-winter our winter really was this year.

Wow.

I know that while it was occurring I wrote a lot about just how weird our winter was, and seeing the actual figures makes me realize that it was indeed bizarre. Even the National Weather Service Office, which is five miles west of Marquette and a thousand feet higher in elevation, only received 127 inches. They're located in one of the prime snowfall areas of the UP, yet only saw half of what they usually get.

As I kept writing about our non-winter winter this year I wondered if I was perhaps engaging in a little hyperbole. It now looks like I wasn't.

I have no idea if this was just the freakiest of winters or a harbinger of what our climate-changed world is morphing into. I'm guessing it's the latter, seeing as how the Weather Service also said that our five winters with the lowest snowfall totals (including this past year) have all come since 2000.

Maybe in the future we won't even be able to use a yard-stick as a compassion tool. Wouldn't THAT be something?

Have a great weekend; after all, there's no snow in the forecast, even if a little rain may visit us, much like it did throughout January and February this year!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 6/6

You're gonna be hearing a lot about that place today.

“That place” is, of course, the Normandy beaches in France, where 80 years ago today what is still the largest amphibian military invasion in human history took place. No matter where you look, you'll see a lot of stories about that big day, and you'll also be seeing a lot of pictures from the area, most of them dealing with death and mayhem and almost all of them in black & white.

And that's not necessarily fair to those beaches. I've come to know and like them. I mean, sure, they were a really bad place 80 years ago, but except for the people who live there, no one ever seems to think about what they are today—beaches, and rather nice beaches, at that. Instead of bloody battles, you now see this--

You'll see school kids practicing for the big game--

You'll see harness racers getting ready for the next big event--

And, like on every beach, you'll see birds. Lots & lots of birds--

Sure, you'll still, 80 years later, see monuments to that bloody day--

But most importantly, you'll see families just out enjoying themselves--

And I have the feeling that, if you were able to talk to the over 3,000 Allied soldiers who died on the beaches 80 years ago today, that's what they would want to see more than anything. To know that their sacrifices have allowed generations of French families—and American tourists—to enjoy the beaches upon which they died AS beaches, and not as some fortified stronghold of an invading power led by a madman.

I know that every single person I've met in Normandy certainly thanks them for what they did, and appreciates their sacrifice every single day. Especially on those days when they can take their kids to the beach, enjoy the sun, play in the water, and (I'm sure) to remind them never to forget WHY they're able to play on that sand.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 6/5

This week's video was fun to put together.

Actually, I should backtrack a little and say that I had a blast researching the topic for this week's “Pieces of the past”. Like many of the videos I've done in 2024 it's an offshoot of one of the stories I told during “Legends & Lore” at Kaufman back in January. I found a few of the pictures and then Jack, as well as Beth & Hunter at the History Center, kept finding more and more pictures, most of which were weirder than the original, and voila--

I had a show segment. And now, a video. And, to make it even cooler, the kicker is that the building I've worked in each and every day for the past 20+ years is a featured character in it.

Who could ask for more, right?

So here it is, an answer to a question you've probably never asked—what would our great-grandparents have done for fun in the days before the Internet, TV, or, just maybe, even electricity--

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 6/4

It's a number about which I was curious.

Like most people, I have several graduations parties on the schedule in June. One was this past Sunday, while two more are at the same time in a couple of weekends (and that should make scheduling getting to them quite fun). Of course, when you're invited to a graduation party you're guaranteed three things—a lot of food, a graduate who's forced to tell people she or he doesn't even know what they're doing with their future, and a card, usually filled with money.

And that's what I was curious about.

It's been a couple of hundred years since I graduated from anything, so I was wondering just how much cash a new graduate can rake it. Thankfully, we have Google for that, and courtesy of the great gods of Google I was able to find out that the average high school graduate in 2024 will find themselves with an extra $1,300 after their gradation party.

That's not a bad chunk of change.

Of course, I know that for students going off to college $1,300 will just buy a couple of books and maybe four pizzas, so they really welcome the money. Whether or not it's worth spending four hours telling your mother's great aunt's ex-husband what your plans are after school depends upon the individual, but I could think of worse ways to make $1.300.

Really, I could.

*****

Last night's TV thing was a group affair, as I was provided a couple of pictures by Loraine's niece Katrina, who held a rummage sale a few weeks ago and was the first person I thought of when I realized I had absolutely no pictures of rummage sales anywhere in the 22-year collection of shots on my laptop.

So thanks, Kat. If anyone wants to see how she contributed (or how I babbled on and on about rummage sales) just CLICK OR TAP HERE!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/3

I realized I hadn't spent a lot of time with them, and figured I should before they disappeared. And I'm glad I did.

With everything that went on in the just completed month of May, something rather important fell by the wayside—spending time with lilacs. Sure, I stopped and sniffed my favorite bush on the way to and from work each day, but I really hadn't wandered about the city, connecting with them. But since they're (sadly) on the downside of their lives, I figured I probably should.

So that's one of the (many) things I did over the weekend.

I have several favored lilac spots, including Father Marquette Park--

And it seems like I wasn't the only one enjoying them there--

However, just about anywhere you wander throughout the city, you'll be greeted by bushes in full bloom--

And, of course, I had to spend a few seconds with the ones I pass by each and every day--

Sadly, they'll be gone soon, so I'm glad I was able to spend a few moments with them before they leave us (actually a metaphor for many things in life). Of course, if someone could figure out a way to have them bloom year-round that would be amazing, and make scheduling a whole lot easier. I mean, I know that won't happen, but a boy can dream right?

8-)

Thanks, lilacs of 2024, and sorry our time together was so short!

(jim@wmqt.com)