Bikes in Holland bridges Tulip Time and Green Commute Week

Because you guys are my favorites, you get to see the Bikes in Holland press release first. Let me know what you think!

Professor Lee Hardy of Calvin College will present “Making Way for Bikes: The Urban Bicycle Infrastructure of Amsterdam and Copenhagen” at the Bikes in Holland event at 7:00 p.m. on Saturday, May 10. Following his presentation, local residents will have the opportunity to weigh in on the Holland-Zeeland area’s new Non-Motorized Plan, which will be presented by Elisa Hoekwater of the Macatawa Area Coordinating Council. Bikes in Holland will be held in the renovated facilities of Fourteenth Street Christian Reformed Church in downtown Holland.

Hardy embarked on a two-week study tour of Amsterdam and Copenhagen in the summer of 2012. He interviewed city officials and bicycle advocates, took measurements, and recorded his experiences with both still and video photography. Hardy then crafted his observations into a 45-minute presentation which has also been viewed by the City of Grand Rapids Design Team (engineers and planners), the Michigan Chapter of the Congress for New Urbanism, and the Greater Grand Rapids Bicycle Coalition. He has been commuting by bicycle from the Eastown neighborhood of Grand Rapids to Calvin College for thirty years.

Hoekwater is the Senior Transportation Planner at the Macatawa Area Coordinating Council. In addition to organizing the area’s popular Green Commute Week program, she is the primary author of the draft Non-Motorized Plan, which was approved by the MACC’s Policy Committee last week. The Plan is a collaboration between local units of government that seeks to allow safe and efficient travel through the area by creating a connected network of bicycle and pedestrian paths. The next phase in the non-motorized network addresses intersection improvements and on-road bike lanes. Hoekwater is currently working to develop the region’s Long-Range Transportation Plan for the year 2040, due early next year.

“Bikes in Holland explores a fascinating aspect of Dutch culture and considers how it could intersect with our own,” says event organizer Meika Weiss. “It’s a great way to both wrap up Tulip Time and begin Green Commute Week.”

Tickets for Bikes in Holland are $10 and are available online at http://www.bikesinholland.com or locally at Simpatico Coffee (714 Washington Ave., Holland) or MainStreet Beanery (209 E. Main St., Zeeland). A limited number of tickets will be available at the door for $12.

Bikes in Holland: Tickets Available Locally!

There are now two GREAT local businesses that you can support when you pick up your Bikes in Holland tickets! Simpatico Coffee (714 Michigan Ave.) in Holland and MainStreet Beanery (209 E. Main Ave.) in Zeeland are both selling tickets for this great event – cash only, so they don’t need to mess with their own cash drawers while doing us a favor.

We’ve talked before about why local businesses are better than chains, but here’s why I love these particular businesses.

Simpatico Coffee is a straight-trade coffee roaster and shop headquartered here in Holland, Michigan. Their claim to fame is a delicious low-acid brew, but I love them for their social consciousness and real-life compassion.

I was first drawn to Simpatico Coffee when I learned what straight-trade means. Simpatico works directly with coffee growers in Oaxaca, Mexico, ensuring them fair prices for their crops in part by cutting out middlemen who all demand a share of the profits. It’s a step up from fair trade. It’s also shade-grown coffee, meaning that it’s grown beneath the rainforest canopy – something coffee plants actually like – so the rainforest doesn’t need to be cut down for the farmers to be successful.

One afternoon when I brought the girls to their shop, Abigail left her lovey behind. She was distraught. Simpatico’s people were actually willing to go back into the shop after they had closed to get it for her! We decided to wait till morning, and when we arrived we found a little pink Buddy all tucked in to a crafted-coffee-cup bed with napkins tidily arranged as a pillow and blankets. I was so, so grateful. A great business to support, grab a cup (or a bag) of their award-winning coffee while you’re there.

MainStreet Beanery in Zeeland has been a haven for many years. This was one of my frequent haunts when I had a flock of toddlers and was losing my fool mind; I could always count on a smile, friendly small talk, and the grace of patience for my little terrors dears and their oft-spilled drinks. They’re right next door to Don’s Floral in downtown Zeeland, which is a fun browse while you’re waiting for your drink. My favorite here is the caramel cream. I don’t know if it’s on the menu, but they’ll know what you mean.

Whether you stop by one of these great local businesses or online, pick up a set of tickets today. I can’t tell you how much I hope to see you there!

Good for Your Neighborhood, Good for Your Soul

From the era. So stinking cute I’ve briefly forgotten how crazy they were.

A few years ago, I started doing what sometimes felt like a really crazy new thing: I rode my bike to work instead of driving.

Since I work part-time, my mornings are filled with laundry, storybooks, and trying to prevent a three-year-old from licking the handrail in the coffee shop bathroom (preferably without dropping her baby sister – true story). When I head out the door in early afternoon and hop on my bike, I feel like I’m getting away with murder … I’m alone with my thoughts (this never happens), enjoying the sunshine and fresh air and subversive satisfaction of getting some exercise without going to the gym. Beautiful.

A few weeks in, Green Commute Week came around and it was just the coolest thing: suddenly, I wasn’t alone in this crazy endeavor.

And speaking of crazy endeavors, we are just THREE WEEKS AWAY from the Bikes in Holland event! Next week I’ll be announcing two new places to buy tickets locally, but you can alreadybuy them online now. I hope you’ll join us!

One image stands out in my mind. It was the end of a beautiful spring day, and I was sitting in my chair under the little tree in the front yard of our old house. Relaxing as it was, I was usually on high alert out there. I felt a little bit like the pacing-and-searching lifeguards around the lazy river at Great Wolf Lodge as I continually herded my toddlers and preschoolers AWAY FROM THE STREET ALREADY! (There was something about the little stones and gravel that built up on the edges of the street that they found irresistible. You’d think it was ice cream with how strenuously they’d scream when I pulled them away. Aww, memories.)

I was used to the sounds of engines and tires on pavement, that growl and whoosh as neighbors hurried home from work and school every other crazy activity. I knew a lot of these people, knew them to be good-hearted and generous, but as they flew down the street just a few feet from where my unpredictable little ones were playing I couldn’t help but feel frustrated at how unaware they seemed to be that the speed at which they were driving truly endangered my children’s lives.

And then one day, instead of a whoosh, I heard a gentle clicking. It was Green Commute Week, and one of my neighbors was coming home from work on his bike. We acknowledged each other with that wave-and-hello that we do with neighbors we don’t know well, and then I kind of stood there in a daze for a minute.

It was one of those moments of epiphany, like a curtain raising or a fresh wind blowing, as in that instant I saw another way forward. It was like an alternate universe with all the anxiety – which I hadn’t even fully realized was present – just wiped away. If my children ran into the street, it was no big deal – they’d get knocked down if they ran in front of a bike, but their lives were secure. They could play freely and without fear.

Plus, I got to say hi to a neighbor who lived further down the street than I would have otherwise known. He probably drove by every day in his anonymous car, but coming by on a bike transformed him into an actual person who was knowable – he became a real neighbor, not a stranger.

This year, Green Commute Week starts on May 12, just two days after Bikes in Holland. It’s going to be an inspiring event, perfect for getting yourself in the mood for biking!

So. Green Commute Week. Good for your neighborhood, good for your soul. Give it a try this year!

Announcing… BIKES IN HOLLAND!!!

It give me great pleasure to announce this year’s spring event:

I could hardly be more excited.

This spring, Professor Lee Hardy of Calvin College (my alma mater) will take us on a fascinating ride through the streets of Amsterdam and Copenhagen, two of the world’s leading cities for bicycling.

Professor Hardy

Professor Hardy’s inspiring multimedia presentation demonstrates how these cities make way for people on bikes and help them get around in a way that’s fun, easy, and affordable – for everyone!

After he answers your questions, we’ll turn our attention to our own community here in Holland, Michigan. Elisa Hoekwater, author of the greater Holland region’s new non-motorized plan, will offer a brief update on where things stand around here. Your input is welcome!

Delicious cookies and coffee from Simpatico Coffee will be available for you to enjoy.

The event will be held in Fourteenth Street Christian Reformed Church’s brand-spanking-new fellowship room. It’s cozy in the best kind of way, and you’re going to love it.

Join us on Saturday, May 10 at 7:00 p.m. to celebrate Bikes in Holland!

Tickets are $10 and are available online now!

Few things are ever accomplished by one person working alone.

I need YOUR help! Here’s what you can do:

E-mail a friend today. Take just a second right now to copy this link – http://wp.me/p2MikN-BQ – and send it to a friend. It will bring them to this page, so they can read about this great event for themselves.

Join the Event Team. There’s still plenty to do, from publicity to event set-up to considering ways to help these ideas gain traction in our community.

Put us in contact with potential sponsors. I would still like to have a few more sponsors to help underwrite this event. Our primary sponsorship levels range from $50 to $250, and we also have a low-cost ticket sponsorship option.

And of course, buy your own tickets right away! Here’s the link again:

Contact me at tulip.lane@outlook.com with any questions or for more information. This is going to be so much fun – I hope to see you there!

Tomorrow!

Tomorrow’s the big day, guys. I can’t wait to share this with you!

Check back tomorrow!

UPDATED: Follow this link for our exciting announcement about Bikes in Holland!

Fun Friday Round-Up! BigTents and Great Places

I’ve been super-busy getting the surprise ready, but wanted to get together a little something for you guys this morning anyway! So here are a few treasures I’ve found along the way. Enjoy!

This article from Better Cities & Towns is a great read on the power of gathering in a big tent. There are groups in our communities with very different preferences and goals – or so we think. This article argues that not only do we have more in common than we think we do, but we can accomplish more than we think we can when we figure out how to work together. And it all starts with a new kind of math. An excerpt:

One example of that new mathematics: A 9-foot travel lane on a thoroughfare costs less than a 12-foot travel lane — and it may provide more prosperity, safety, and freedom, all of which adds up to a better life for ourselves and our children. This is so because when traffic slows, more people walk. When more people walk, the stores do better, and builders provide housing. More stores and houses mean there’s more places to go nearby. More places to go means you are freer and you dump fewer carbon emissions into the atmosphere. Fewer carbon emissions means a better future.

The “more is more” version of the American dream has been ascendent throughout North America for decades now, but are increasingly waking up to the possibility that we may have reached the point of diminishing returns. Rather than a bigger house on a bigger lot, we want to be connected to our community – from the youngest to the oldest. From Vancouver (yes, in Canada):

The true value of this decision was crystallized for me one day, when I was at the office, having delegated my visiting parents with the task of walking my son to pre-school. I returned home to astonished anecdotes of his guided tour of The Drive: he introduced them to the many shop owners he knew, from “Auntie Tina”, who sold us fresh pasta (and gave him free cookies), to Michelle, who taught him ballet, and Kelly, who cut his hair. Every storefront had a story and a special meaning; and at the ripe young age of four, he already knew the people and places in his community like the back of his hand….

Our children can comfortably walk, bike, or scoot to and from school every single day; and soon enough, will be able to travel freely across the entire city, without the need of a driver’s license, or a ride from Mom or Dad to get them there.

This is what livability is all about.

Finally, a piece on how the Dutch did it – the beginnings of a bicycle-powered culture.

From November 1973 to January 1974, the Dutch national government prohibited the use of private motor vehicles on Sundays. This policy was meant to prepare the public for the scarcity of oil predicted ahead. The Netherlands, like the United States, was boycotted at this time by the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries.

No cars on Sundays meant children could roller-skate down the center of normally congested streets and adults had reason to dust off old bikes. This reclamation of public space happened at a critical time. The 1970s – perhaps like the early 21st century America – was the decade when transportation policy shifted to favor more sustainable modes.

Off for the preschool run with a bunch of tired kids. Whew, FRIDAY!! Have a great weekend!

It’s Coming… But Not Yet. Friday Teaser!

So you remember last week, how we talked about that winter bird singing through the snow and how we can sing against the odds, and then I told you that this week I would have a really! exciting! announcement! to make?

Ahem.

The good news is that the planned announcement has nothing to do with tortilla chips that were surreptitiously smashed into my sofa. The less-good news is that these chips represent an extra-chaotic week, and the full reveal is just plain not ready.

I’ll just go ahead and assume you weren’t planning your WHOLE week around this announcement and save the kleenex for another time.

But how about a little hint to tide you over?

Springtime… sweets… and…

Doesn’t this look FUN?

Any guesses?

Full reveal coming soon, I promise. In the meantime, step outside this weekend, find yourself something beautiful, and enjoy some good winter fun.

Why the Winter Bird Sings and How You Can Too

Sometimes all we need is a reminder of just how free we are.

It’s early on the second day back to normal, after that endless streak of snow days at the beginning of the year.

“Mom, can we go to the playground?”

The playground…In the dead of winter?

Well, I guess I could blog about it. Sure, let’s go.

We go potty (or “go potty”) and don 27 pieces of outerwear (I count), some more than once, before crunching down to the end of the block. The temperature is in the mid-twenties, which feels unbearable in November but by January makes hats and mittens seem overdone. I can feel the beginnings of sweat at my hairline as I pull Mae across the squeaky snow and over the street-edge snowbanks in her bright new sled. I tell the five-year-old who doesn’t like to walk, the child who requested this trip, that when I was her age I walked to school every day all by myself.

She isn’t impressed.

The park we are going to is right in our neighborhood, only four or five blocks away. It takes up most of one city block and has a playground, a gazebo, a big open field and a ball diamond. After fighting the shifty sidewalk snow and a recalcitrant preschooler all the way here, my legs are ready for a break. I breathe a sigh of relief as we walk up…

…and see that, of course, the sidewalks in the park haven’t been cleared. Wearily I gaze across the field of unbroken snow and contemplate turning right back around to go home.

I’ve been hooked by the idea of winter cities, places that embrace their climate and celebrate life through every season. I can picture a miniature sledding hill in the middle of this park, sidewalks shoveled to the playground, kids playing on the playground and making snowy igloos in the baseball diamond.

Someday. Today is… different than that.

Abigail is suddenly inspired and leads the way, powering her way through the snow with her strong little legs. She stops in the gazebo, where the snow is shallower, and lays down for a minute before plowing on to the playground.

In the meantime, I have Mae in the sled and am trying to stay upright as I gracelessly drag her through this impenetrable snow bog. I’m scarcely twenty feet off the sidewalk and am beginning to wonder if we’ll even make it to the playground at all.

“WANT OUT! WANT WALK!”

Ignoring her requests is ineffective as she attempts to launch herself out of her wee chariot. So out she comes..

But the snow is “doo deep.”

“WANT UP!”

What have I done? What am I doing here? It’s the middle of winter and we walked to the playground?? What kind of crazy was this? I’m plowing through knee-deep snow carrying a two-year-old who has ever been in the 98th percentile for both height and weight, dragging the sled in which she now refuses to ride. Those prickles of sweat at my hairline have turned to droplets in a hurry. I stop and take a breather.

The sky is feathery gray and blue and has that heavy, steely look it does in winter. It’s like its colors have been put on mute for the season. There are birds flittering around the tree beside me. I can’t tell what they are, but I hear a bluejay across the park.

I pause. You can’t see the birds in this photo but a flock has hidden itself in these trees, dancing through the branches and singing their little hearts out in the middle of this Narnian season, free birds who “leap on the back of the wind,” however cold it may be.*

Their song baffles me. Don’t they know how cold it is? Don’t they long for the spring, iwth its gentle breezes and plentiful food? I think that I might sit huddled on a branch, waiting for the season to change.

And I wonder… am I waiting for an easier season, too? Don’t I wish there were fewer clothes to put on, fewer mittens to find, beautiful clear sidewalks to walk down? Don’t I wish for fewer dishes to wash, fewer early-morning wakings, beautiful little rooms that stay clean once I clean them?

Have you ever put your life on pause until spring? I have.

Maybe life is just too HARD right now. We lower our heads and hunker down, wishing for the storm to pass and waiting for an easier season to venture out.

But there’s beauty in the storm.

How much do we miss if we confine our dancing, confine our singing, to the days when the sun shines warm on our faces? How much of life passes us by if we flee indoors to escape the blowing snow that needles our cheeks?

Abandoning the sled in the gazebo I press on, feet sinking deep into the dense snow.

The playground was amazing. The slide that the girls normally fly off at top speed, landing on the hard ground in a crying crumple, is nearly snowed in. They slide down and then off the end on an invented luge run that extends the ride by a good fast four feet. Abigail faces her nemesis, the monkey bars, now plopping painlessly into the snow when she loses her grip. Every snowdrift is a little fort, piled up around slides and stairs, ready for hideouts and playing bad guys.

Getting there was arduous, but oh, was the journey worth it.

So much of this life is in how we face it. Whether it’s a dark night of the soul, the winter of our discontent, or a polar vortex, we’re birds in a cage with an open door. And sometimes it takes some doing, but gathering our courage and being willing to endure discomfort can make all the difference in how we experience this cold season.

The trip back goes faster. We’ve already broken the trail out to the playground, so getting back to the sidewalk is much more manageable. Over the snowbanks we clamber, cheerfully kicking aside snowplow-flung chunks of ice to arrive back home, to the favored lunch of hot tomato soup and Sunbutter sandwiches.

That thing you’ve been waiting to begin, that thing you’ve been waiting to be over with… will you settle into it this week? Take a little leap into the storm, put on a coat and find a spot of beauty in it? Will you decide this week to sing a song of freedom?*

I’d love to hear. Feel free, as always, to leave a comment or email me at tulip.lane@outlook.com. And stay tuned for an exciting announcement about an event that you will LOVE coming up next week!

Because livable places are better.

*I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou

You’ve Earned a Break, Friend. It’s for Democracy.

The day was long enough to warrant a walk that was even longer. After a day or three alone in a house with sweetly intense small people, my home had indeed begun to feel like a “vortex of isolation.”* You’ve had those too, I know.

Fourteen blocks along shifty, snowy sidewalks, my feet are skittish at their inability to find a firm spot to land. I grump over hip-high snowbanks, then feel simultaneously guilty and grateful – guilty for my gripey discontent, grateful that our town’s sidewalk plow has allowed me any path at all through this deep midwinter night.

Although the shop windows are dark, the sidewalks downtown are busy: a neon rainbow of runners, dogs bouncing and whining their wish to make friends, other women who have fled their homes to walk away the day.

Is there something inherently welcoming in a coffee shop, or is it just that this place has become my sanctuary of evening escape? It’s a relief to take in the range of people at the tables around me. Some stare seriously at the white pages in front of them. There is a woman who leans in to a quiet conversation, tilts her head and laughs in an easy, familiar way. A brown-haired girl moves her hand uncertainly along her necklace and purses her lips as her companion explains something to her. These nameless people aren’t my tribe, but their presence is comforting.

I stand at the counter, decided in my choice of jasmine tea and pretending that a whole milk mocha piled high with whipped cream isn’t even an option. As the barista walks up, I sigh. And what I mean is that I SIGH, an another-polar-vortex-is-moving-in sigh, a watch-out-we’re-deflating-a-hot-air-balloon sigh. “Oops. That wasn’t supposed to come out!” I said. She laughs. “Oh, I know that sigh! My seven-year-old stayed home sick from school and fought with his brother the whole day. I was so glad to get to come to work tonight!” We make small talk about the fine art of surviving one’s blessings as she rings up my order.

This lighthearted conversation was exactly what I needed. It’s something we all need, as it turns out. Although we desperately need deep and dependable friendships, we also need these passing connections to help us feel like we’re part of something bigger than our own skin. If you’ve ever said, “ugh, I just need to get out!” (and you have said that, right?) you already know this somewhere in your bones.

Urban sociologist Ray Oldenberg argues that a “third place – a place that’s not home, and not work, but a neutral place where all are welcome – is more than just a place to relax: It’s a cornerstone of thriving democracy.

Again and again we hear about how polarized our political climate has become and how we’re migrating further to the ends of the ideological spectrum by the stand-alone opinions of talking heads. Interacting with real people – our neighbors, especially – has a moderating effect on us. We enjoy going out because we’re human, but in the process we reinforce the foundation of civil society.

I’m not thinking about protecting democracy on this night, though. I lean back in my chair allow myself the space to feel grateful for, well, for this SPACE and for the people who fill it. They’re not the ones I’ll call when my kids are sick or when the very thought of moderating one more sibling dispute is enough to send me off the rails, but they are my neighbors. And tonight, being surrounded by their anonymous selves is just what I need.

As you go out and about your week, will you consider meeting a friend in some third space? Of course you have cabin fever, and let’s face it, the way this winter has gone you have most certainly earned a break. But it’s bigger than that. It’s for democracy!

If you decide you’re willing to serve your country in this way, leave a comment or shoot me an email at tulip.lane@outlook.com. I’d love to hear about it.

*This phrase from Charles Montgomery’s Happy City: Transforming Our Lives through Urban Design, which I highly, highly recommend. (That’s an affiliate link, so I’ll get a small cut of your purchase if you click through that link. Thanks!)

Snow Day Survival Guide, including a free printable!

Adorable. Fresh, clean snow.

If you’re all in a panic because your kids are going mad and you don’t have a thing prepared for them to do on the millionth snow day in a row, go on ahead and skip to the end. I won’t tell!

This winter is no joke.

It’s snowed every single day since forever. We haven’t had school since last Wednesday, and wind chills for today are forecast to hit about -30F (which is -34C – we’ve almost converged!).

But what do you do? There are only so many days you can spend huddled inside waiting for spring, especially if you live with lots of little humans.

There’s something to be said for celebrating the place you live, crazy climate and all. In honor of our fourth straight snow day, I’m offering a few hints on getting outside to enjoy this unique weather with a free printable below to wrap it up.

Dress in layers.

And I mean lots of them. Two pair of socks; leggings, long underwear, or fleece tights under jeans; undershirt, long-sleeved shirt, and sweater – this is your base layer. Then add your boots, snowpants, hat, mittens or gloves, and scarf. It’s so much easier to enjoy being out in the snow if you’re dressed for it!

Stay out of the wind.

Play on the sheltered side of the house and avoid open areas – it will make a tremendous difference in how long you’re able to stay outside. Good old-fashioned snow forts make great windblocks, too.

Come in for warming breaks.

This is a new one to me that came from a woman who grew up in Alaska. You can get outside in some crazy cold weather, you just need to come in periodically to let your skin warm up. So send the kids out for twenty minutes – or better yet, join them, the fresh air will do you good too! – then come back in for five or ten minutes to warm up and head right back out. Go ahead and leave the gear on and your sanity may actually remain intact.

Activity for Desperate Parents

Now, for that moment when you really need to go inside, I created – ahem – a printable. It’s a poem called The Snowman which I’ve formatted as a booklet for the kiddos to illustrate. It requires the ability to do double-sided printing but otherwise needs absolutely no preparation ahead of time. It is appropriate for preschoolers and young grade-schoolers (my kids are 5 and 7 and enjoyed it; the 2-year-old took a yogurt bath and decorated my kitchen with cinnamon rather than participate).

Get it while it’s hot (hahahahahaaa):

The Snowman: Click here to download!

Additional Activity for the Exceptionally Motivated or Desperate

Again, this needs no preparation ahead of time. Grab some kind of dish with sides from the kitchen – a cookie sheet with a lip, casserole dish, pie plate, that sort of thing – and bring it outside to put some snow in. Make a miniature snowman. (If you live around here you might need to let the snow warm up a little for it to pack.) Then watch it melt, just like the snowman in the book (hopefully it won’t traumatize your little artistes!). A lesson in solid and liquid states.

UPDATE! What’s a snow day without a video?

Many thanks to Sammy for this suggestion. Head on over there if you love to escape through adoption stories. 🙂

See? You covered nature, literature, and science today. Win!

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More on helping kids thrive in:
Ten Reasons for Your Child to Walk to School
The Courage of Children
The Capability of Children
Car Time to School Keeps Kids from Concentrating