Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam circumspice.

That's the motto of my new home state of Michigan. "If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you." So far I've failed to live up to it.

We moved here in January and have yet to "circumspice." Never mind that I'm only a few hours away from some of the worlds largest things worth seeing:

• two of the largest lakes in the world (Michigan and Superior)
• the world's largest cherry pie pan (Traverse City)
• world's largest log cabin (Marquette)
• world's largest working chain saw and working rifle (both in Ishpeming)
• world's largest weathervane (Montague)
• world's largest crucifix (Indian River)
• world's largest lug nut (Lansing)
• world's largest Indian statue (Ironwood)
• world's largest front porch (Mackinac Island)
• world's largest Christmas store (Frankenmuth)

With all these ?ǣworld?��s largests?ǥ nearby, you?��d think I?��d have checked them off my list by now. Unfortunately, and without my consent, they?��ve been pushed down my list by other, more urgent matters. Among the most resentful are the demands of the house we bought that was supposed to be without demands.

When we decided to move north, one of the top priorities for our next home was that it did not rob me of my weekends fixing this or working on that. Our Indiana home took eight years of weekends out of my hide, and by golly my next one was going to give them all back so I could circumspice to my heart?��s content. At least that was the plan.

I?��ll spare you the world?��s longest list of ?ǣthings about a house that weren?��t as we were led to believe,?ǥ but suffice it to say I?��ve escaped from one demanding house and landed smack dab in the middle of another one, giving me the world?��s greatest case of buyers?�� remorse.

Am I bitter? Yeah, a little. But it reminds me of lyrics to a Rolling Stone?��s song from long ago.

You can?��t always get what you want;
You can?��t always get what you want;
But if you try sometimes,
You just might find,
You get what you need.

The problem is I didn?��t really know I needed to spend every weekend working on my house. In fact, after eight years of doing same, I was pretty sure I didn?��t. So, as I see it I have two options. I can either pout about it and resent my reality or bear this cross as my burden until it?��s lifted from me. At least it?��s not as big as the one in Indian River.

 So instead of spending my weekends circumspicing this pleasant peninsula and seeing the world?��s largest things in my new home state, my lot in life seems to be directed differently, at least for now. I think I just need to accept what seems to be the motto meant for me: ?ǣIf you seek a home that frees you up for weekend wanderings, get over it.?ǥ

I?��m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason despite all attempts to prevent things one finds resentful. I have also come to realize that as soon as one chooses not to resent one?��s reality, the burden becomes lighter, even lifted. Funny how that works.

Respectfully,

Dennis J. Ernst, editor
[email protected]