Posts Tagged ‘family’
It’s Wildwood
From memory, a stab at the lyrics to a song I wrote back in the early 1980s after a particularly remarkable Independence Day weekend that lingered long after I had returned to the day job. This was shortly after the property had been divided into lots, which individual families then took ownership of. Before that change, they all shared every cabin, rotating every couple of weeks to give everyone a taste of each precious spot on the lake, along with the different quirks of each very old log cabin.
Seems just like a week or two
and 4th of July has come and gone
and I was up at my favorite place
Friends were there to have a time
but not the one we used to know
cabins have moved, and new ones are growin’
a place to sleep’s not as easily found
Sit on the porch of what was cabin three
almost see the beach you never used to see
and Tommy and Jane, and Justin, it’s true
are heard laughin’ and singin’ and workin’ too
It’s Wildwood, Wildwood!
It’s been so long, but the change is good
Wildwoo-ooo-ood
Friends had gathered to have a good time
work god done, we had a good time
we weren’t all there, it’s sad to say
but we’re fixin’ the place for another day
The old road don’t go the way it used to go
nor some people’s car the way the new one goes
but we all got together and pushed it out
who says there weren’t games this holiday
As evening came, we gathered ‘round
for the kind of picnic you’re supposed to have
and though people not present were sadly missed
there were fireworks displayed to rival all time
It’s Wildwood, Wildwood!
It’s been so long, but the change is good
Wildwoo-ooo-ood
As much as it seems as though it’s really changed
and mud has replaced the sprouts of poison ivy
the swing still swings between two big trees
from which you can still hear the Friswolds up at cabin 3
Hayward’s still a few minutes away
Round Lake crisp and clear as any day
and all the people who have made it what it really is
are all the people who will make it what it really is
It’s Wildwood, Wildwood!
It’s been so long, but the change is good
Wildwoo-ooo-ood
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Celebrating 60th
It was 60 years ago that a group of Twin Cities guys jumped on an opportunity to purchase a lodge property called Wildwood on one of the most pristine lakes in northern Wisconsin. It’s transformed over the years with changes in families and bylaws, but it has survived as a unique association with long-term relationships in a fabulous location in the woods on a lake. Definitely a phenomenon worthy of celebration.
I’ve written about it before under the Wildwood tag among my “Previous Somethings” (such as this one), so today I am going to present the day in a few images…
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Midnight Sun
After picking up Cyndie and Elysa at the airport yesterday, the stories flowed in rapid succession without pause. Tales about crossing into the Arctic Circle. Descriptions of a weekend at the island cabin of Norwegian relatives. Descriptions of the beauty of the fjords, the unique cruise ship, the uncharacteristic heat wave, the relief to be home after a loooong day of travel, and the ensuing jet lag.
Cyndie stayed awake as long as she could before conking out around 8:00 p.m., equal to 3:00 a.m. in the time zone they just returned from. That is on top of only getting a few hours of sleep the night before. I plan to offer her plenty of compassion and tolerance for any demonstrations of fogginess in the next few days.
Of course, at our age, it’s not clear that our mental acuity ever fully returns to previous levels after we tax ourselves to dramatic degrees.
Before Cyndie dozed into a restless early-evening slumber, she granted my wish for a few photos from her large collection documenting their adventures celebrating Elysa’s birthday, with a healthy dose of midnight sunshine.
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Elysa’s Birthday
Today is Elysa’s birthday, and Cyndie and Elysa are celebrating on a Norwegian cruise boat that will take them up into the Arctic Circle to experience the midnight sun.
After their cruise, they will make their way to Oslo and spend a few days visiting with Friswold relations.
Asher and I have survived our first weekend on our own, with one week to go until I drive to the airport to pick up our Norwegian adventurers. So far, so good. He’s only disappeared on me 3 or 4 times and got himself on the wrong side of the fence of the neighboring property once.
Ella, who stopped by to feed the animals when I was in Cambridge on Saturday, told me that she walks him on a leash to avoid the risk of losing him. I can fully understand why she would choose to do that.
After I retrieved him from one of his unauthorized jaunts yesterday, I convinced him to help me process the latest compost pile that finished cooking.
I was wheeling loads down to the staging space by the labyrinth, and Asher would muster the effort to get up and follow me. The second time we were making the trek, a rabbit hopped into view, and Asher came to life with a sprint that took him out of sight into the woods one more time.
Having now grown accustomed to losing him, I didn’t fret over it. When I got back to the compost area with the emptied wheelbarrow, Asher was already there, waiting for me to return.
Over by the strawberry patch, there was a clue waiting for me to see that I’m not staying ahead of the squirrels, birds, and probably rabbits that think the juicy red fruit is growing there just for them.
The stump of a tree had quite a few of the discarded green leafy crowns of the berries scattered all over it, in addition to two bright red pieces of fruit. I guess the critters are not trying to hide evidence of their activities. Seeing that emphasized to me that I need to be picking berries before they get to them.
Unfortunately, I found very few worth keeping. If the squirrels weren’t taking them, some slug-looking insect was burrowing into many of the rest. I find mowing grass to be a much more dependable endeavor than trying to grow fruits and vegetables.
I’m thinking about celebrating Elysa’s birthday today by treating myself to some ice cream in the middle of the afternoon. Since they are 7 hours ahead in Norway, it will be like I’m joining them for an after-dinner dessert.
I won’t be putting any fresh strawberries on top.
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Longest Day
Happy Summer Solstice, loyal readers! Here we are at the longest day, and it hardly feels any different than yesterday, when I spent more solo hours in a car in one day, traveling to a graduation of a grandnephew in Cambridge, MN, than I have done in a very, very long time. It wasn’t bad. A comparison could be made to spending hours on a lawn tractor mowing multiple acres of grass.
It’s a good thing there are so many hours of sunlight, allowing me time to catch up on mowing grass that keeps growing longer and longer due to the many hours of sunlight feeding it.
I struggle to find words to adequately describe how precious it is to arrive to see my siblings and their families with my mental health robustly free of the foggy, dysfunctional gloom of depression. The level of difference is something that no one but me can perceive, and it is a special joy to experience and recognize.
It’s wild to think about the reference we siblings have to each other at our current ages, having lived together as kids in our shared childhood environments.
As descriptions of aging bodies were shared, I found myself more invested in learning details of afflictions that could just as easily impact the shared genes in my body. It is often referred to as an “organ recital” when old folks get together and share the litany of degenerating physical functions that each one is coping with.
All things being relative, we can all be thankful that none of us is facing something worse. Blessings counted.
The visit was shorter than I would have wished, and triggered an urge to look for an opportunity to revive one of our multi-day gatherings. Let me just look at the calendar.
Never mind.
It was a heck of a lot easier when we just lived together at the farm called Intervale Ranch on the border of Eden Prairie and Edina, MN, back in the good old days.
Those were some fine, long summer days…
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Split Attention
So much sports to watch now that the 2026 FIFA World Cup tournament is underway. Last night, it was complicated by the concurrent broadcast of the 6th game of the NHL Stanley Cup final series. It is not an easy feat to pay close attention to both at once. At least the Carolina Hurricanes solved that issue in the future with their Cup-winning victory over Vegas.
Of course, the Tour de France bike race will start in July, so my attention will be split again, soon.
I spent the early part of the day using our battery-powered string trimmer to cut the growth beneath the fence line around the back pasture. Precision timing (or mere chance, if I were to be honest) had the trimmer battery drained just in time for me to catch the start of the first World Cup game of the day.
As long as I’ve accomplished something along the lines of property maintenance, I feel justified in lounging around watching athletes entertain me with their team skills for the rest of the day.
It helps that the horses and Asher have been taking care of themselves for the most part, lately. When we came in for lunch, Asher decided he wanted to stay sprawled out in the front yard, enjoying the breeze and keeping watch over his domain.
Mia was showing us that she understands what the shade sail is for. The other three horses demonstrate much less interest, preferring to remain under the overhang. Their loss, I say.
While I was watching sports deep into the evening, Cyndie occupied herself with packing preparations for traveling to Norway with Elysa. They will be celebrating a milestone birthday for E, experiencing the light of the midnight sun, and visiting with Friswold relatives while they are there.
I have warned them that Norway will be playing two matches during their visit, so the people may be a little preoccupied on those days –or I should say nights, given the time difference.
There will be no shortage of things commanding my attention while Cyndie is away. Here’s hoping Asher will remain content to stay within our property boundaries for all the days I am the sole person in charge.
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Energy Fade
Today is one month away from my 67th birthday in June. Everyone ages differently, but my experience is that my level of energy has dropped noticeably in my mid-sixties. That’s not necessarily problematic for me. I really enjoy lounging around. I had a wonderfully luxurious day in the most fabulous lake weather yesterday, enhanced by some great conversation with Steve’s guests from Sweden, Eva and her daughter, Matilde. I also checked in on Cyndie, who was threading beads to create Morse coded bracelets.
Looking at some of the shiny beads in her collection, I was fascinated by the reflection of the red umbrella overhead. She was working at the table on the deck. When I leaned over to take a photo, my phone camera obscured the view of the umbrella, but that added some mystery about what was going on in the image.
As the afternoon advanced and people with weekday responsibilities departed for their homes, I rallied my resources and hopped on the bike to do some light-effort pedaling. I’d spent much of the day recovering from my extended workout on the bicycle the day before, but in the hope of building more stamina using the same muscle groups, I thought it pertinent to ride again on consecutive days.
It took me a long time to warm up my legs, and just when I started to feel myself hitting stride, I noticed the residual fatigue was making sure I was still aware of it. It wasn’t going to be a long-distance outing even if I’d wanted it to be. Luckily, I was within a few miles of Wildwood when all this was happening. I had been using the electric assist the whole time to baby my rubbery legs, and the thing that became clear to me was that the effort to ride at my usual pace of around 12 mph without the electronics helping ends up being remarkably similar to the effort to keep the pedals spinning at a battery-assisted 18 mph.
It’s a function of being a high-cadence rider. The motor helps, but it is no cure for not having the strength to spin the pedals.
The hour-long cruise on the paved country roads was perfect for my goals and left me with plenty of time to resume luxuriating afterward in the cool breeze off the lake on a warm, sunny day. Then, I stayed up too late watching another overtime hockey game of the Stanley Cup Playoffs.
I think spectator sports are going to become more entertaining for me as my advancing age continues to reduce my energy resources. Tensing my muscles as the action in the game gets exciting and then relaxing when the whistle blows provides an added bonus of processing the lactic acid buildup in my legs. For now, I’m getting benefits from both participating in a sport and watching professional athletes ply their trades.
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Biking Progress
A search of the area behind the cabin where Cyndie had previously seen the fawn turned up no signs of it. It may have lain down in a tiny curled ball, but since we didn’t see or hear from it the entire rest of the day, we prefer to imagine its mother returned and they wandered off to live happily ever after. The walk through the woods turned up some rewarding scenery in consolation.
The trillium is putting on a pretty good show for us. My second favorite adornment of the forests up here is the ferns. They are coming on strong this weekend.
The surprise we least expected to find was methodically pecking away on the shady side of a tree. It took some hunting to find it by honing in on the most likely direction the sounds were coming from and then staring long enough to catch a glimpse of the movement.
That’s a Pileated Woodpecker way up in the tree. They are the largest woodpeckers we have in North America, but they are a somewhat rare sighting. That makes it doubly special whenever we have one pay a visit.
I was able to take advantage of good weather yesterday afternoon and get out for a 39-mile loop riding my bike. My derailleur recalibration worked well, and I pushed my mileage to more than double my previous rides this season. My new gravel tires worked well, too, allowing me to confidently ride a road I didn’t know would be gravel. That portion offered me the chance to witness the smallest fawn I have ever seen in person. Compared to the one that was bleating outside our sunroom, this one was practically a quarter of the size.
It looked like it could have been born only a few hours earlier. I came up over a rise in the road and found the mamma and baby staring directly at me from the middle of the gravel road. As I approached them, I spoke a few words, which triggered the doe to leap off into the sparse growth beside the road. The matchstick-like legs of the fawn wobbled their way to follow the mom.
Steve arrived yesterday with guests who are friends from Sweden. We enjoyed a big feast for a late dinner after offering tours of the house and surroundings, and visiting with several neighbors for happy hour on the deck next to our place. I was feeling pretty self-satisfied about the distance I had traveled on my bike ride earlier in the afternoon, but my pride was taken down a notch when I learned a couple next door biked 55 miles, 20 or 25 of which were unplanned. They missed a turn and rode much farther south than they had intended.
My leg muscles were on the verge of cramping after my effort. I don’t want to think about the pain of riding that many unplanned miles.
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Great Event
The usual calm and quiet has returned to Wintervale this morning. I think the horses sense that Cyndie’s and my energy has significantly changed, moving from the hyperactive tensions of preparation mode to a serene afterglow now that World Labyrinth Day 2026 is in the past. The beautiful weather with bright sunshine helped to create a perfect setting for visitors.
Asher kept me company while I set up the Wintervale flag near the road to give first-time visitors a sign they were at the right place. For some reason, my phone camera made that view look like our entrance is a U-turn from the road, which is not the case. The angle is much less than 180°.
Cyndie turned our storm door into a sign for anyone who arrived while we were both down at the labyrinth. I was too busy gabbing away with folks to take a picture of the spread Cyndie set out on the center island of our kitchen, but you can be assured that there were plenty of scones, cookies, vegetables, cheese & crackers, grapes, and a couple of versions of flatbread pizza square bites for good measure.
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We moved Cyndie’s precious door table down near the labyrinth with a tub of beverages that turned out to be very popular. She also provided cards with some guidelines for maximizing one’s experience walking the roundabout pathway into and out of the “not-a-maze.”
A mix of friends, family, and acquaintances participated in trodding during the appointed hour of meditation on all things peace-related. One of my favorite aspects of peace is joyfulness, and there was plenty of joy expressed in the congregating of like-minded souls.
I couldn’t help myself lamenting the event happening so early in our growing season that it looks barren compared to the lush growth that will be obvious in a few more weeks. It was agreed by a variety of others that my idea of holding our own local version of a meditative walk on the topic of LOVE could happen later in the summer, to allow people to enjoy the scenery at its best.
It would take us less preparatory effort if people just came to enjoy our sanctuary as their opportunity arose. I expressed that to everyone I spoke with in hopes they would take me up on the offer in the future.
Every time we have visitors, it clarifies the fact that our property is so much more rewarding when we get to share it with others. It’s a win/win when someone who experiences great joy being here ends up doubling our joy for being able to welcome them.
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Plant Rescue
We were given possession of a root-bound ZZ plant (zamioculcas zamiifolia) by friends who were reclaiming some space in their home. Our daughter, Elysa, and Cyndie separated it into 5 different pots yesterday.
I’m hoping we can make it a companion to our Bird of Paradise plant that Elysa and Ande gave us after having gone through a similar exercise of separating and repotting that beauty. They should make a great pair.
While we were at Elysa’s, I did my feeble best to rescue her 2-door fence gate. I can’t fathom how eight screws (4+4) in two hinges completely sheared off one of the doors. I was thinking I might be able to simply move the hinges on the door until I discovered they were part of a metal frame that spans the entire width of the door.
We ended up raising the whole thing half an inch and screwing it into the post. It is now reattached, but getting it to butt up against the other door requires a little extra effort with a lift and a shove.
Cyndie shifted her focus to pruning dead shoots from some very vigorous raspberry bushes along the fence.
When we were ready to wrap up our visit, my car was filled with the larger of the potted ZZ plants and multiple shoots of the raspberries. As I was driving home, Cyndie was reading up on how to take care of our newly repotted plant. We decided to put it in the front sunroom for now to give it time to settle in the new pot.
I’d like to see it turn toward the sunlight and have the soil firm up to give the stalks more stability before calling this a successful transplant. Then I hope to buddy it up with the tall Bird of Paradise on the sunnier half of the house.
I like the symmetry of our two rescued/repotted exotic plants growing alongside one another.
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Relative Something 