Outdoor Life

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  "Old School Dad" and "Ken's Korner" will be on hiatus the week of June 24th.


And I don't mean the magazine.
Nor the breakfast cereal eaten al fresco.
And not even hunting, fishing or other 'guy stuff'.
I mean getting your kids away from video games, TV screens, computer monitors, etc.
And getting them out of the house.
One of the things I love this time of year is that our daughter can get outside and not just run herself (and us) ragged, but get some fresh air in the process.
Fresh air makes a lot of difference in our health.
In my mid to late twenties, I was living in Detroit, the eighteenth-largest city in the U.S., according to 2010 U.S. Census figures.  Much bigger when I was living there, though.
Very industrial city, with lots of pollution.  Though it wasn't as bad as Pittsburgh was in the days of the steel mills (remember those Pittsburgh jokes?), it still had an effect on you.
Little did I realize that on the occasions when I would go 'up north' to the farmhouse my mother owned at the time just outside of Houghton Lake, just how valuable fresh air could be.
Mom at that time lived on what had once been known as Maple Grove Farm, in the tiny hamlet of Merritt, about 20 minutes from 'the lake'.  Sitting on a twenty-acre knuckle of land, it had been a working farm and many years ago had been the town's original post office.  The farmer's wife was the town's postmaster who sorted the mail by stacking it between her sugar and flour canisters.
By the time my mother bought it, the barn had fallen into disuse, and the post office had moved to its own facility on the other side of Michigan 55.  The house itself had fallen into a state of neglect.
Until Mom got a hold of it, though.
New windows, paint, resurfacing of hardwood floors, and mowing years-old weeds, and it didn't take long for that old house to resonate old country charm once again.
I often suggested to my mother that she should open a Bed and Breakfast in that house, since she often entertained friends (she has many) and family members alike certain weekends.
When I would go up there, the place had an effect on me.
Physically.
I would sleep.  And sleep.  And sleep some more.
Sleep like I hadn't slept in ages.
I would sleep a full eight hours and still need a nap in the afternoon.
"The fresh air will fix you right up," Mom said.
She wasn't kidding.  Sunday afternoon, when it came back to go downstate, I felt invigorated.
And I see the same thing with my daughter, who turns three in July.
My wife Margie and I take her outside as often as we can.  She plays on her swing, engages us in a game of 'you can't catch me' (with either side as the catcher or catchee), blows bubbles or whatever.
Then we bring her in for the night.
After bath time, it's just what she needs for a good night's sleep.
Physical activity for her little body.  Fresh air for her still-developing little lungs.  A warm bath after it's all over.
Laying her down for the night becomes rather trouble-free.  Usually a 'goodnight daddy...' before quickly fading off to sleep.
And she gets to do it all over again the next day.


NEXT WEEK:   You Are What You Eat