Posts Tagged ‘family’
Dream Driven
I haven’t got a clue. I’m feeling a little shaky about trusting my intuition after the dream I experienced last night. It was classic in how real it seemed compared to how obviously unreal it proved to be upon my waking. The way it mixed time and locations should have helped my sleeping mind to recognize it was a fabrication.
It has left me wondering if I will be savvy enough to sense when I am reading a message from a Russian bot or a genuine American citizen with a hairbrained opinion lacking any factual basis. If the President of the United States looks like he is buddying up with Putin, can anything healthy possibly result from it?
My dream had nothing to do with world politics. It involved someone with whom I am close. It involved death.
What is up with that? I’m not sure. I don’t want to delve into it.
Nothing to see here. Carry on.
I spent a little time shaping my latest wood piece yesterday while sitting on the shore of the lake, listening to the sound of the water lapping against the sand.
It is a cutting from the Y of two branches of the oak tree section that crashed to the ground in front of our eyes on an otherwise calm morning. We don’t know why it fell at that time. It was the kind of thing that could have happened in a dream.
As is often my style, I am leaving the bark on one side of my sculpture. I try to come up with words to explain the symbolism I assign to this, but I’m not entirely sure it isn’t just a way to get out of needing to finish all the surface area. Although, a smooth side and a rough side can be a pretty easy metaphor for a lot of things/people/situations.
Meanwhile, I hear the fearful leader has called out our military to control D.C. Talk about a disconnect between some people’s dreams and reality.
The delirium of this kind of thing happening in our country is a travesty. No wonder I find myself drawn to intense focus on precisely shaping a heart out of the solid wood of an old oak tree, bringing out the splendor of the beautiful woodgrain.
The symbol of a classic heart shape is a universal representation of love, and genuine love is the only thing that will get us out of any mess the world is in. When enough people of influence get around to fully embracing that, we might see that our best dreams can actually come true.
My dream last night has me wanting to soak up as much of my immediate reality as possible today. Maybe even hug the ones I love. Retune the vibrations of my intuition. Hold a heart-shaped piece of an oak tree and feel its strength and the love it symbolizes.
It’s our last full day at the lake this weekend. We drive home tomorrow morning.
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Full House
Even though the golf weekend hosted by Steve and Ben up at Wildwood is an annual event, seeing so many vehicles parked in the driveway is an unusual sight.
Since I don’t golf, a short time after everybody wakes up in the morning, I find myself all alone for breakfast on the deck in the calm, quiet over the lake. Well, not entirely alone. The two young eagles and their parents nesting over the tennis court made an appearance, visiting the large pine tree between the house and the lake.
In the afternoon yesterday, Paul and David L. joined me for a short bike ride strategically routed to minimize our exposure to the strong wind that blew all day long. Almost 18 miles at an average pace of 14.4 mph. Reasonable exercise in the scenic northern Wisconsin forests.
I saw Paul pointing into the trees ahead of me and turned to look as I passed a large doe that was standing squarely beside the road. She looked like a statue except for a quick shake of her tail as I rolled by.
The highlight of the day has to be the feast we enjoyed for dinner. Jeff brought fresh salmon and halibut caught on a fishing trip the week before. Steve grilled the fish and some brats and burgers under the close supervision of a couple of interested parties, while others tended the corn on the cob and side dishes.
Seating was arranged for 14 on the deck, but half the crew couldn’t wait to dive into the delicacies and chose seats at the dining table closer to the center island in the kitchen, where the spread was laid out.
We lingered on the deck until later than a good night’s sleep dictates, listening to music and regaling each other with tales mildly embellished for effect. Even though a notable conflict on the golf course with strangers earlier in the day that included a fair number of F-bombs didn’t escalate to fisticuffs, the retelling started to expand to imply…
I made a futile attempt to find a spot upwind of cigar smoke, but the camaraderie was worth the unpleasantness. If it had kept the mosquitoes away, I would have found it a tiny bit more tolerable.
You know me, I am well-practiced at finding something to whine about. Don’t be misled. I am having a fabulous time with some great friends. It is an honor to be included.
The early morning thunderstorm has passed, and most of the guys are off already for their final day on the links. I will join any bikers who remain for a roll on the roads after I get up and get going myself. I intend to put the battery/motor module on my bike today to cope with a third day in a row of riding.
My legs feel a little bit like I’m getting to be an old man. Of course, that is why I decided to buy a bike with a motor option.
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Humid Heat
The golf weekend fellows and I find ourselves in an Extreme Heat Watch issued by the National Weather Service. Precautions may be in order.
The heat makes for excellent patio dining. I think their first day of golfing is just an excuse to rendezvous at Angler’s Bar for dinner, as has become the tradition on the first night. We took up three tables, and the server suggested we pay by table. Kevin pulled out his credit card and said he would pay for our table.
When the bill arrived, his eyes got very big. The server thought he indicated he would pay for all three tables. He was being generous, just not that generous.
I went for a little bike ride in the morning, but didn’t start early enough to avoid the heat. I think that took some of my strength. I felt great when I stopped for a brief rest and some snacks after 20 miles. Somewhere around six miles after that, I started noticing a decline in my stamina.
I’d like to say it had something to do with the elevation gain, but I had already started running low on energy before reaching the big climb toward the end. That effort did seal the decision to choose a shortcut home, despite the added time on a busy State Highway with a 55 mph speed limit.
I generally try to avoid the kind of traffic that barrels along on main arteries with high speed limits. The risk was worth it at the end of that ride because it got me out of the headwind and avoided a couple of fair-sized hills I didn’t feel up to climbing. Plus, I made it back safely despite the scare of frequent traffic.
This afternoon’s ride may be a shorter route than yesterday’s since the extreme heat will be at its worst by the time they get done with their morning rounds of golf. I intend to choose a route with a lot less climbing, as well.
At least the lake will be available for a swim to cool down when we get done riding.
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Head Start
I got a head start on my next adventure by driving up to the lake place last night, a day early for the annual Golf Weekend hosted by Cyndie’s brothers, Steve and Ben. Several years ago, they started including me even though I don’t golf. Since several guys like to ride bikes in addition to their golfing, I bring my bike and let them put me through a workout of trying to keep up with them in the woods or on the road.
I’d like to use the excuse that I am getting too old for this, but they are the same age as me, so that doesn’t work.
By coming up a day early, I’m forcing myself to take a break from the groundskeeping work that never ends when 20 acres are growing at a frenetic pace.
Actually, I made great headway cleaning up the pathways and edges of trails through the woods over the last seven days. Some of the growth is beginning to take on a rather hedge-like appearance in several places around the property. That is just what I’m after.
I snuck in a few minutes of bike maintenance the other day, trying my hand at adding sealant to my tubeless tires for the very first time. I made one foolish mistake. Since I was trying to simultaneously entertain Asher, I moved my bike down by the barn, where he loves to sit in the shade of a tree and watch over his kingdom.
At that location, I didn’t have a convenient station for the bike, so I just leaned it against a barn door. I should have flipped it over, but I wasn’t thinking. When I added the sealant to the front tire after deflating it, the weight on the wheel flexed the tire, and a lot of the sealant leaked out of the bead. D’oh!
It was doubly maddening because the front tire was the one losing air faster than it should. I solved that error before doing the rear tire, and the process worked flawlessly. Luckily, the “refresh” of sealant, even though not the full amount, seems to have plugged the leak in the front tire. It’s holding pressure just as well as the rear.
Having never dealt with tubeless tires before, I was feeling a little intimidated by the whole sealant process. Now, after just one experience of adding a new amount, I see that it is not a big deal at all.
I’m going to give my tires a little road test this morning and get a head start on checking out my favorite road routes before the other riders arrive. As a bonus, I won’t be doing any mowing at all for the next few days.
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House Fires
There are two times when the topic of house fires gets a lot of attention in most people’s lives. One is during fire prevention events, and the other is when someone’s house burns. It’s not a comfortable topic for conversation. To those who have lost a home to fire, I suspect their lives get divided into “before” and “after” the fire.
In the early morning hours yesterday, one of Cyndie’s brothers woke to a smoke alarm going off, and he and his son were able to get out of the back door unharmed. They stood with neighbors and watched the conflagration for twenty minutes before the firefighters arrived.
One day, everything is fine, and then a day later, lives are in ashes. I’ve pondered this calamity many times in all the homes I have owned. What would I do if a fire were to break out?
Thankfully, I haven’t needed to find out.
This event has triggered a rash of fire memories for me. The most distant being a story my mother told of her mother’s night clothes erupting in flames from a space heater, I believe it was.
When my mom was in the WAVES during WWII and stationed in Miami, FL, there was a fire in her family home in Minneapolis that took the life of her father.
When I was a kid, a family that my parents knew lost everything to a house fire. I remember selecting some of my toy cars to contribute to a care package that my mom and dad were putting together in response. The thought of that family losing everything made a big impression on me.
In the Eden Prairie neighborhood where Cyndie and I raised our kids, there were four house fires on our street over the 25 years we were there. One across the street from ours burned two different times with different owners. The first incident occurred from a candle in an upstairs bedroom, and the second involved an electrical issue in a basement office filled with reams of paper.
Another house got hit by lightning, which caused a smoldering fire in the rafters.
The last fire in that neighborhood happened on a Saturday afternoon. Cyndie spotted the telltale smoke in the air and yelled to call 911 because there was a house on fire. The owner was standing in the driveway, dumbfounded. He told her there were propane tanks in the garage. Somehow, she moved his car out of the driveway. I stayed up on the street corner to wave emergency responders in the right direction.
I vividly remember the loud cracking and popping sound of a ferocious fire gaining energy by the second as I waited anxiously for too many minutes before the sound of the first fire engine siren came into range. It felt like an eternity, and it was excruciating.
Since this topic has arisen because another house has gone up in flames, why not use the occasion to review your home fire preparedness?
Today, we are extremely grateful that Cyndie’s brother and nephew are alright, and we are sending them love and well wishes for a speedy recovery from the devastating loss of their home and the dramatic disruption of their life routines.
Life, after the fire.
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Lake Laughs
Friday at the lake is a time when friends and family arrive for the weekend, interrupting the quiet solitude of being just one couple here with the constant banter of multiple social interactions. It inevitably leads to periods of boisterous laughter.
We soaked in the water as well as in the sunshine on the beach. We went for a walk around Wildwood and visited with families along the way. We paused to gaze at the young eagle perched on a branch over its nest above the tennis court. We stopped by the cabin next door to preview the plan drawings for the new construction that will soon begin where the old lodge once stood.
After new arrivals all settled in, we feasted on leftover barbecued ribs that had been kept frozen since the Fourth of July weekend, along with fresh-picked sweetcorn for dinner. It tasted like summer. Top that off with games of cards, augmented with a dessert of peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream, and you have a spectacular start to a weekend at the lake.
Some game situations were laughable, and several of the stories shared were both poignant and humorous. It’s almost enough to help us forget about the worst things going on in the world around us for a day or two.
Our friends, Barb and Mike, have joined us for a few days. They are thoroughly experienced in all aspects of lake life, so hosting their visit is as comfortable as my 30-year-old moccasin slippers I keep in the closet up here.
The agenda for the rest of the weekend is pretty wide open, but I won’t be surprised if the most strenuous exertion we undertake involves splashing around in the lake before settling in for more games and consuming delicious and nutritious feasts. Several members of the current crowd are in recovery mode for a variety of issues, including a hamstring strain, a foot bone break, and a knee ligament repair surgery.
Luckily, all this laughter makes for great medicine for whatever ails a person.
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Summer Reality
Even though the lake home is a luxurious 12-inch cedar log structure with spacious rooms, large sleeping capacity, and more bathrooms than I care to admit, it is not immune to the problems that have plagued most anyone who has spent a lot of time up at a cabin.
What story does this photo reveal to you? If you know, you know.
The accessories decorating Cyndie’s and my loft bedroom at the lake place this week reflect the kind of sleep we have been getting the last few nights.
The first time I noticed it, I assumed Cyndie was sleeping through the odd pings, tings, knocked things, and flapping wing sounds I was picking up. I guessed it was a bat, but preferred to prioritize my sleep and let it have its fun. In no time, I was dreaming that I had picked up my cell phone, turned on the light to see a bat wrapped in a curtain that Cyndie handed to me. I proceeded to try “dispatching” the pest, but it merely folded over harmlessly in the dream.
Upon waking in the morning, I figured out I had dreamed the interaction, but Cyndie confirmed she had heard the bat, too, so that part was real.
The next night, I was startled awake from a wonderfully deep sleep by the blast of a very bright light over our bed. Cyndie reported it was the bat again. This time, she couldn’t ignore it because she felt something hit her, which is why she turned on the light. There was a bat turd on the sheets.
When she retold this story to Julian the next morning, he seamlessly responded, “That makes it official: you are batshit crazy.”
Cyndie and I clumsily flailed after the flying mouse until it disappeared into our attached bathroom. I suggested Cyndie close the door, and we both lay back down to sleep. Just then, a screech owl call pierced the quiet and echoed in the trees outside the window.
After assembling the collection of tools that can be seen in the photo above, we both slept soundly through the entire night on Wednesday. It’s difficult to know whether that meant there was no bat in flight or we had gotten used to the flapping enough that it no longer interrupted our slumber.
In reference to a bigger picture, I am feeling more sad about my country than ever before this US Independence Day. Enough said.
Send extra love out into the world, hug those you hold dear, and give someone you don’t know a big smile to brighten their day.
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Couldn’t Finish
With a threat of rain today and tomorrow, yesterday Cyndie hinted I should work on outdoor projects while the weather allowed. Fair enough. Since there are practically endless opportunities to trim back overgrowth along our trails and fence lines, I decided to start on the place that needed the biggest effort.
Using the electric string trimmer, I worked my way down the fence line. I always feel so good about how it looks when the fence wires are all free and clear from being swallowed by tall grass, weeds, and vines.
Next, I used the hedge trimmer to clean up the overhanging branches sticking out in the pathway.
When all the sliced up trimmings cover the ground, the pathway deserves to be raked clean. That becomes the finishing touch of a job well done and provides the ultimate visual reward for an end result.
It’s too bad I couldn’t finish in the time available. I left the rake down there in hopes one of us could, at the very least, make a quick sweep to clear the bulk of the debris the next time we are walking that trail.
We had to wrap up chores early yesterday for a trip to the Cities to celebrate some June birthdays with a dinner out at Ciao Bella in Bloomington with our kids, Cyndie’s mom, and her brother, Steve. What a fine batch of menu choices we were served by first-class staff.
Maybe I was extra hungry after skipping lunch to do that trimming, but every bite of my entrée and the several others I sampled tasted incredibly delicious. It’s as if they must have pushed past the limits of healthy eating by adding copious amounts of the good stuff, like butter, and salty seasonings. Even the starter loaves of fresh-baked bread tasted like the best bread I had eaten in a long time.
It made the packed parking lot and too loud ambiance worth overlooking. For a normal Tuesday night, the place was jumping! Good thing we had a reservation. Since we had picked up Cyndie’s mom, we also had a card allowing us to park in one of the handicap spots near the front door.
My meal was so good that I had no worries about not being able to finish that part of my day.
Maybe I’ll use that fuel to get out and do the unfinished trail raking between rain showers today.
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Yes, Hot
It’s not just the heat, it’s the humidity, too. I started receiving weather warnings from the app on my phone sometime in the middle of last week. While at a restaurant on the bike trip, I spotted a weather map on a TV screen over the bar, and it looked like 80% of the US was depicted with a burning deep-red, indicating extreme heat was on the way.
Well, the heat has arrived. Try being a 1200-pound horse in this kind of weather.
Cyndie put out the large water trough that the horses have a history of splashing in when we intended it to be used for drinking. Now we would be glad to have them splash in it.
Mia came right over while Cyndie was filling the tub from a hose and dipped her face into it. I said she should have placed the trough under the shade sail. We may still move it there later today.
Asher isn’t taking the heat much better than the horses. Luckily, he has an air-conditioned house to lounge in. He begrudgingly accompanies us on walks to tend to the horses.
I am deeply grateful that this level of heat didn’t occur while we were biking for hours every day. If there were a choice between riding in the rain or high heat, I would choose the rain.
Unfortunately, I still have some mowing to do today. I’m going to try to finish before the hottest part of the afternoon. Not that it matters, since the temperature was 81°F with a dew point of 72° when we woke up at 6:30 this morning.
Yeah, it’s hot outside.
There is one really cool thing about today, however. It’s Elysa’s birthday!! Here is a celebratory photo of her from six years ago:
Happy Birthday, dearest! Stay cool!
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Doing Little
My motivation for being productive in any physical way was seriously lacking yesterday. I suppose I drained most of my mojo on Saturday, accomplishing so many valuable spring cleaning steps that my body chose to take Sunday off. Actually, it would be inaccurate to say it was mainly physical because my mind was functioning at a fraction of its usual clarity and inspiration, as well.
I didn’t want to get out of bed at a respectable hour and failed to conjure up any useful agenda for the day beyond responding to whatever query came my way. The air quality was dodgy, and that contributed to a certain absence of motivation toward doing most outdoor activities.
I managed to perk up enough to join Cyndie and her mom on a walk down to look at the lodge that is well on its way to being prepared for a pending demolition of everything except the oldest octagon-shaped log portion with the stone fireplace. I took a brief swing on the swingset that won’t be preserved.
There shouldn’t be anything wrong with laying low for a day, but I feel the stagnation of my momentum becomes a hard thing to interrupt. My body at rest truly wants to remain at rest.
Now it’s Monday and the start of a new week. We are expecting delivery of a new oven this morning and hope to be departing for home shortly after it is successfully installed. Between today and Saturday, I will be counting down to my departure for the week of biking and camping on the Tour of Minnesota ride.
Since I just did a mini-version of three nights camping over four days in which be biked on three of them, I feel more prepared than usual. However, that also has me feeling at risk of being underprepared due to my perception that I should be mostly ready. There is a nagging feeling that I’m going to forget something I will regret.
Curiously complicating things is the fact that the ride has changed format this year, and bikers will need to drive their vehicles to the next campground every other day. On the surface, it would seem to simplify some concerns because we can bring along whatever we think we might want through the week that we can fit in our cars. However, I will be ride-sharing with Gary Larson, so I’d like to avoid bringing more than I will need so we can fit the gear of two people into his car.
It would mean a lot to me to accomplish a healthy minimization of the things I bring. It would simplify my experience and free up my energy to focus on the best part of the annual adventure: the people who choose to show up for a week of community camping and bike riding, endless silliness, and social banter.
Enduring friendships are a common result.
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Relative Something 