Winter break inched by, faster than I would have thought with the entertainment at hand. That included hearing my kids repeatedly play Eye of the Tiger on Rockband, finding new, innovative ways to make fun of my ex-husband’s mustache, and watching Stevie Nicks interviews on Youtube. I found her inanity mildly fascinating.
What I needed was some snow to romp in. Just when I had the time and didn’t have a virus that made me want to sleep, the snow all melted.
One day during break, just to mix it up a little, I took the boys to Detroit. We whisked through the Detroit Historical Museum and then went to eat at Slows BBQ which was really good. I am telling you. Between the three of us, we had okra split pea fritters, hoppin’ john, mac and cheese, green beans, bbq wings, some kind of bbq chicken sandwich on big toast, cornbread, waffle fries, and chocolate ice cream with a warmed brownie with nuts and caramel sauce. I drank a Lindemans Frambois. Then I waddled my ever-expanding winter break muffintop back to the swankmobile, parked across from Slows near this bleak, stark beauty:
The Michigan Central Station, which operated as a train station from 1913 until 1988. It’s like an immense ghost, a desiccated, desecrated, crumbling ghost that isn’t that old but seems ancient and out of place.
We had stuffed ourselves silly as we sat across from this gaunt, elegant stranger dully looking on. I just want to feed it. There's been some talk about restoring the building, but so far it's just talk. Such a shame. Here are more photos.