Sunday afternoon at Uncle Mike's

Backyards, books, & nail clippings

This past Sunday, my family got together at my mom's brother Mike's house for eats, chats, and tours of the backyard and not-so-secret libraries. My Uncle Mike and Aunt Kathy are mischief-makers and artists; they teach at Catholic Memorial, where my brother and I went to high school. When school's out for summer, they turn their talents not to sketch books and camera lenses, but to the great outdoors. Their forest-like backyard oasis has been a labor of love these past 20+ years; they've sculpted and nurtured it, and it's ever-evolving.

As Uncle Mike took Adam and me on a mini-hike through the trees, he explained how all of this had once been nothing but dirt. But with time, he and Kathy planted a tree here and a tree there. They built stone walls and eventually hauled those very same boulders to form new forest paths and enclosed plots of foliage and found objects.

 

 

Throughout the wooded area there are rustic birdhouses — dozens of them, hanging from trees and perched atop posts plunged deep into the soil. Uncle Mike thinks about five of the houses are currently occupied; Adam and I can attest to at least one such resident. As you walk the various paths, you'll find a sign for "Uncle Tom's Trail" (named for my grandpa's outdoorsy younger brother), a wooden throne, a garden gate that leads to nowhere, and an old bench just waiting for nature-lovers in need of a rest.

Inside the house, it's like a museum. My aunt and uncle are avid collectors of African artwork and masks; the walls are covered with them. Adam gravitated toward the various antique book shelves, trunks, and card catalogs. Sensing our interest in the museum pieces, Aunt Kathy took us upstairs to see the unofficial library, which spans more than one room. An entire wall in the guest bedroom is in fact a book shelf packed with rare finds, and the closet in another spare room gave way to additional book storage long ago. Kathy said Mike knows where every single book is, the story behind each, and how much he bought it for. We didn't test him, but I don't doubt her for a moment.

Back downstairs, we admired (as I do with every visit) the old card catalog in the kitchen. Instead of labeling each drawer with A to Z, Kathy and Mike have given the drawers truly unique contents — things like "Face," "$13," "Peanuts," and "Whiskers and nail clippings." If you're wondering: Yes, the labels are spot-on, nail clippings and all. The "Ewww!" reflex upon opening that drawer results in peals of laughter from my aunt and uncle, which I suppose was their intent all along.