We arrived in Milwaukee late Tuesday evening. Wednesday and Thursday were spent visiting historical societies, cemeteries, and county records offices searching for Bartelt family history. John was able to fill in and clarify a lot of his genealogical data. I myself found Johann G. Burmeister's gravestone half hidden by grass and moss at the David's Star cemetery in Jackson County. I did a lot of driving, admiring the deep green stands of corn with their golden tassels and the fields of wildflowers while John tried to figure out where certain family properties were. On Friday we took off for West Bend (where the appliances come from) and Madison. I was a little grumpy about being kept so busy. I am really very fond of doing nothing on vacation.
As we headed north I kept exclaiming over the wonderful old farmhouses we passed. "We could live there," I would say wistfully. "It's for sale, look." I know perfectly well I would not really like to live so far away from city pleasures. I'm just in love with the idea of living in a big 19th century farmhouse with a huge yard and a barn so I could raise flowers and vegetables and have two or three milk cows.
We finished our business in West Bend quickly. There wasn't much to see, but I amused myself by visiting the sole used bookstore and buying an iced coffee in the sole funky coffeehouse. Even after having lunch we had several hours to kill before our hostess Jeanne Gomoll would arrive home from work. Being indefatigable tourists we consulted our map and picked out a state park to visit. We turned up at Aztalan Historical Village just as it closed, according to their signs. We poked our heads in at the office door and asked if we could still see the place. "Sure," said the long haired young guy with glasses wearing a software distributor's t-shirt sitting at a computer. "I'm doing some programming, just wander around." Geeks are everywhere.
We had a look at the collection of pioneer detritus in the main museum, an old Moravian church, where we met some tourists from Iowa. Then we had a look at the log cabins brought in to preserve the pioneer lifestyle of cramped rooms, dirt floors, low ceilings, and zero privacy. I felt claustrophobic just peering in the doorways. They certainly were picturesque, though. Afterwards, we drove through the park looking at the Aztalan burial mounds. Mounds are kind of boring, but apparently the local Indians used to go in for a bit of live human sacrifice. Or maybe it was cannabalism. I was too hot to read my brochure.
In Madison I began relaxing in earnest. We took Jeanne out to dinner at a Cal-Mex place called Eldorado. Their chocolate margaritas were out of this world, perfect on a hot summer's night with a thunderstorm raging overhead. Because I have your interests at heart I'm publishing the recipe, courtesy of Jeanne and the Eldorado.
Chocolate Margarita
Equal parts unsweetened blackberries and raspberries, blended and sweetened with brown sugar disolved in water and lime juice. Strain mixture through fine cheesecloth.
3/4 oz Don Julia anejo tequila
1 1/2 oz Godiva (dark)
Splash of Triple Sec
1 oz blackberry/raspberry mixture
Garnish: Cocoa powder on rim and sprinkled over drink; lime slice.
Saturday we all went out for dim sum with Tracy Benton and Bill Bodden. Apparently dim sum is still something of a secret in Madison, and I found a lot of my favorites had undergone a sea change (make that an inland sea), but it was pretty yummy. Afterwards, everyone came back to Jeanne's and I decided to document the fun with my digital camera. "It's got a timer, I'll take a group photo," I announced blithely. Five shots of empty sofa, my thumbs, and half of Bill's grinning visage later I gave up and let John look at it. He pressed all the buttons meaningfully and took a photo of the ceiling. Suddenly, the red light started to flash. "Quick!" I shrieked, "get to the sofa!" We leapt into place, laughing like baboons.
Yes, I know, five glasses-wearing sf fans makes for a collection of bright shiny lights reflecting the camera's glare. I guess it's the geek equivalent of red eye. The participants in this experiment are, clockwise from the upper left, Tracy, Jeanne, Bill, me, and John. Note: the males of the species are the most colorful, just like in nature.
John ran off to do some more genealogical research while the rest of us went to the very fine Olbrich Gardens to see the butterfly house. I spent a very happy hour wandering around the enormous gardens. I developed an obsession with colored yarrows. I vowed to do a purple and white section of my next year. Much later, Jeanne's partner Scott Custis came home from Iowa and the six of us had a good, homecooked dinner of corn and chicken. There was much laughter and storytelling and gossiping about mutual friends. Tracy and I explained the online diary phenomenon to Scott. Jeanne told us about her upcoming hip replacement operation, and the stupidity of the doctors who failed to diagnose the problem properly.
That night we heard the news about John F. Kennedy, Jr., and his wife and sister-in-law. We turned on the tv periodically, unwilling to wallow in the morbidity of speculation about his plane crash but unable to resist seeing if there was any breaking news.
Tomorrow: Green Bay, the Packers Hall of Fame, Door County, and home again.
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