Posts Tagged ‘family’
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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Tragic Ending
We had a really brilliant day yesterday, tending to things around the lake place. A large limb that had fallen into the yard was cut up and tossed back into the woods. Felt a little like I was still at home. Elysa and I tended to a portion of the labyrinth path, dispatching the lovely plants that were growing where we didn’t want them. A second trip to town to buy flowering plants occurred, so I spent some time moving giant planters and garden hoses out of the garage where they had been stored for the winter.
The caretaker was planning to come to swap the storm windows around the sunroom for screens, so I spent time clearing a pathway in the garage to the back wall where the screens are stored. Everything seemed to be humming along smoothly.
Speaking of humming, the hummingbirds took an instant liking to the flowering plants and the fresh serving of sugar water Cyndie put out. A robin momma was ever-present on a nest on an outdoor light by the sliding door to the deck.
The four eggs explained why the bird was hanging around despite all the human activity. Unfortunately, the strong breeze of the afternoon resulted in tragedy for our feathered friend.
Many sad exclamations were uttered over the awful scene, but we soon carried on with our landscape primping and garage cleaning with stoic tenacity. I brought out the benches around the fireplace, which inspired us to build a fire for cooking dinner. Ladder golf apparatus came out, and Elysa and Ande put them to immediate use.
Raindrops teased in the middle of the afternoon, but never became real rain until the middle of the night last night. Today, we expect to do fewer chores and more lounging around, enjoying the gorgeous scenery and the pretty flowers, smartly arranged.
An embarrassment of riches amid the occasional natural tragedy.
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Visible Air
Between Canadian wildfires and tree pollen, our air quality is visibly contaminated of late. Cyndie took this picture yesterday:
The difference in clarity of the closest trees compared to the fainter color of the more distant ones makes it pretty obvious.
Yesterday was one of those days that makes me feel guilty for driving our car when signs over the freeway are posting alerts and suggesting people make fewer trips. I’m afraid smoky air in the summer is becoming a regular thing.
I got 80% of the mowing done, and we were able to make a brief appearance at my grand-nephew, Drew’s, high school graduation party yesterday. Today we are hosting two couples whom we know from Cyndie’s time working with the Eden Prairie schools. We are looking forward to sharing the beauty of our place with the couple who’ve not been here before.
In the time I just spent on Wisconsin State Trails and in DNR campsites, I noticed how the properties are tended, yet also what I consider to be a little neglected. It showed me what a difference we make by tending to our land with such constant effort. As I was mowing yesterday, I kept spotting areas where I wanted to use a string trimmer to clean up or where I needed to use the hedge trimmer.
At least we only have 20 acres to manage, and my time isn’t money. It doesn’t cost any more if I take one or two days to finish a task.
I can spend all of my energy tending to the growth around here, but I’m not able to control the quality of the air that moves in.
Last night, there were a couple of really loud frogs croaking away their musical trills just outside our windows. They can go on endlessly, it seems. One of them seemed to start losing its steam. The staccato chirps began to drop off toward the end in a humorous way, almost like he was running out of air. I wondered if the pollution was getting to him, too.
Cyndie got her phone to record it because it was making both of us laugh. Of course, in doing so, she fixed it. The frog upped his game and went back to producing a perfect repeating pattern of prridit.prrrridit.prrridit.prrrridit chirps as soon as she touched the button.
Show off.
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Goodbye Trails
We said goodbye to the Rails-to-Trails in the driftless region around Sparta yesterday and made our way home. I am very happy to be writing on my laptop again instead of my phone. The horses look to be in great spirits. Cyndie sent me a picture of Mia getting some nice attention from Light as they practiced a little mutual grooming.
It probably goes without saying that the grass needs to be mowed. That meant I couldn’t dawdle upon arrival yesterday just before dinnertime and had to set in almost immediately with processing the post-trip routine of cleaning and drying the tent, the rainfly, the ground sheet, my sleeping pad, airing the sleeping bag out, and sorting out clothes that need to be washed. I’ll get to the clothes later, but everything else is cleaned and dried in preparation for packing it up again in two weeks for the Tour of Minnesota biking and camping week.
With that taken care of, I hope to snatch a few precious hours this morning to mow before we set off for Savage, MN, to attend a graduation party for my grandnephew, Drew. I’ll cut what I can. We also learned that the person who was going to feed horses and Asher while we were away is no longer able to come. Sorry, Hays clan, our visit will be brief so we can get back for afternoon chores. Maybe I will be able to do a little more mowing as a result.
We have guests coming to brunch on Sunday, and Cyndie would like the place to look respectable when they arrive.
I’m still in the afterglow of the fabulous four days with Rich. Did I mention we were the only car and campers at the walk-in campground in Sparta?
We were also the only ones in the campground in Elroy (the one with the impossibly steep hill) on our first night there. Thursday night, one other campsite got claimed. After the first night sleeping in Elroy, we figured out ways to avoid making any extra trips up that incline. We left a lot of stuff in the car parked across the road so we could shower at the trailhead after riding and before heading out for dinner without climbing back up to our tents.
Yesterday morning, we were able to bring everything down in one trip, dropping it at the gate to be loaded after Rich brought the car over from the lot.
We added 44 miles to our 4-day total, riding the “400” State Trail from Elroy to Reedsburg and back before showering at the trailhead in Elroy and heading home. Brunch in Reedsburg was at Greenwood’s Cafe, a gem of a place for breakfast with a small-town feel.
The exclusive dose of gravel railroad bed trails took a toll on our minds and bodies, so if I were to do it again, I might look to add a change of pace with some miles on a few country roads. The trails plum wore us out each day. On the bright side, though, the effort should serve us well in preparation for the Tour coming up in just two weeks.
That reminds me, I didn’t give my bike a bath yet to wash off all the accummulated grime. I wonder when I’ll find the time to get to that.
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People Connecting
Our social calendar is humming lately at an uncharacteristic pace. On Friday, we went out to dinner with Cyndie’s brother, Ben, and his wife, Sara, and then they took us to see The Garcia Project at the Granada Theater in Uptown.
Commemorating the 30th anniversary of Jerry Garcia’s passing and marking their 15th anniversary as a band, The Garcia Project is featuring full classic Jerry Garcia Band setlist recreations from 1976-1995 on this tour.
It was definitely a trip back in time. Staying out late to enjoy entertainment at the expense of a full night’s sleep is also something that reminds me of my younger days.
There was no opportunity to sleep in on Saturday morning because I was heading out to meet up with my biking friends in Oakdale, MN, to ride the Gateway and Brown’s Creek Trails to Stillwater.
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It was a good chance to log time on the saddle and catch up with friends who share a history of riding the annual June Tour of Minnesota together. I felt pretty good with the 28-mile effort, but my butt is telling me I need to get more time on the bike to toughen up before the week in the middle of June. Luckily, I have a four-day ride on state trails planned in the Sparta and La Crosse area of Wisconsin with Rich Gordon to solve the time-on-saddle issue.
When I got home from biking, I had time to shower before our friends, George and Anneliese arrived with their trailer and three dogs for a three-day stay.
We kicked off their visit with the first of our ongoing CrossCribb competitions after dinner to pick up where we left off when they used to live with us for a time. The guys defended our honor against the women. A rematch is guaranteed.
I’m loving the interaction with friends, and giving up on my usual routine for a while, although the grass doesn’t stop growing while I’m off having fun. I may need to pull away for an hour or so to save the labyrinth from being swallowed by tall grass at some point today.
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Relative Something 