Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Fast Day
Another day flies by in a blink. One of the fastest ways time passes for me is in conversation with people at reunions. Yesterday was not part of Cyndie’s class reunion events, but we did host a couple of her classmates in a visit that swallowed hours of the day in one big gulp.
Thom and Paul joined Cyndie and her friends in a variety of activities as they were leaving high school and entering college. We laughed as Cyndie reminded Thom that he had planned a backpacking trip to the Grand Teton Mountains in Wyoming, which he ended up not being able to take with them. A short time later, Thom pointed at a picture and asked when it was taken because it looked like it was his sleeping bag in the image.
Cyndie: “Yeah, that’s the camping trip you planned but didn’t go on. You even gave us your sleeping bag to use.”
Too funny.
The pictures that Cyndie shared led to a few instances in which they all recognized what they were seeing, but without actual memories of the occasions. Witnessing mental files being rummaged through that probably hadn’t been accessed for decades was entertaining.
It was a wonderful day to be outside. Asher was on his best behavior and made sure everyone had a chance to pet him. Cyndie worked her incredible magic in the kitchen and served both breakfast and lunch for our guests. We walked some trails in the woods, visited the labyrinth, and spent quality time with the horses.
Thom took a picture of us with the horses. That was nice. We don’t have many pictures of ourselves together with the horses.
After our guests departed, Cyndie had to leave for an appointment, and suddenly it was just Asher and me. Time slowed down a little bit. We walked to the lookout spot on the first hill of the driveway to enjoy the nice breeze and watch the sun descend through some clouds.
Just like that, our fast day faded toward its end at a more logical pace.
We had a treasure of a day, at every speed.
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Reunion Tales
Now that I’ve had a whole day of not going anywhere, life feels faintly familiar to the norm to which I have grown accustomed. Cyndie drove to the cities to visit her mom, so I had a quiet day with Asher. We went for a walk after breakfast and then took a nap when we got back to the house. It’s going to take me a couple of days to pay back the sleep debts I accrued last weekend.
The highlight for today is going to be a visit from two of Cyndie’s classmates who heard plenty of stories about our property. I wish we could host all the people who show a sense of wonder and interest when we describe our place. It is rarely a convenient opportunity for most people, so we are thrilled that this particular time it appears to have worked out just a couple of days later.
I got permission to share a story of Cyndie’s from an interaction at her class reunion. She was looking forward to talking with a guy whom she remembered had poked fun at her buck-tooth and thick-glasses appearance when they were young. The memory had always seemed curious to her because the guy was the only other particularly noticeably buck-toothed, thick-glasses kid in her year.
Turns out that it wasn’t him. At least, he has no recollection of it and doesn’t think he would’ve ever done that. Now Cyndie is questioning her memory. Was it someone else teasing both of them, and she mistakenly placed it on the other victim? We’ll probably never know.
The eventual outcome is the best of results. The two of them ended up having a wonderful exchange and quickly bonded in their shared experience. I might add that he turned into as good-looking a guy as Cyndie did into a beautiful woman. They might not have even talked if it weren’t for this mysterious memory.
Happy surprises like this are one of several reasons I am a big fan of reunions.
I enjoyed reuniting with the horses yesterday. They don’t offer up grandiose gestures of being happy to have us return after several days’ absence like dogs do. Asher doesn’t hide much with that wagging tail, licking kisses, and leaning into us for scritches. No, the horses are much more subdued in their acknowledgment.
Swings just stood stationary when I put my face to her nose to exchange breath and stroke her neck. Staying put was her way of telling me she was happy to see me.
The amount of food I found spilled beside her bucket last evening was more than I’ve seen before. We need to start soaking her food to help her cope with failing teeth. Do they make dentures for animals? [not a serious question]
Moments after I took that picture, Mix moseyed over to eat most of what had been spilled.
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Older Faces
So, I accompanied Cyndie to her 50th High School Reunion yesterday after driving home from the lake at 5:30 in the morning through varying levels of fog. My poor brain is a little sleep-deprived and mixed up with rekindled memories from so long ago and seeing dozens of mostly recognizable faces that are decidedly older than how we all looked in 1976.
I tried to capture as much knowledge as I could grasp on the fly from the folks on their planning committee and classmates who had traveled from far and wide to use in planning next year’s reunion for my class.
In the end, I have a sense that there’s not all that much we can control in determining attendance at the event. It’s great seeing those who showed up, heartbreaking to see whose lives have ended, and sad to find out who didn’t make it for any number of reasons.
I dredged up images of the old rooftop faces of our schools in the 1960s from historical aerial photographs the University of Minnesota provides online.
The top photo above is the view of Central Elementary that eventually became our middle school. If I have my dates correct, in 1971, Cyndie’s and my class started the year at what was then the high school with grades 7-12. In the middle of the year, they moved us back to that elementary school that had become grades 6-7-8.
The bottom photo above is the view of our high school. I just looked at the satellite view on Google of the way our high school looks today. It has now become the middle school and has been significantly remodeled, but parts of the old core are identifiable.
The two main courtyards have been cut in half, so there are now four courtyards. It’s still possible to discern what the 100, 200, and 300 wings were, as they were called.
I’m feeling a little older today for some reason.
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Leaving Early
I am departing at dawn this morning to dash home early from the “Golf Weekend” in order to then drive more than an hour west for Cyndie’s 50th high school reunion. They are starting with a boat cruise on Lake Minnetonka, then coming back to Eden Prairie for an “after party.”
The plan seems a little dizzying to me after my last two whirlwind days of activity and conversation with the regular crew of the annual weekend that Cyndie’s brothers host at the lake place.
Yesterday started a little rainy, but that didn’t stop the golfers.
I waited until late afternoon to head out on the bike with two other riders. We got dripped on a little bit, but returned to the house before it rained hard enough to get things wet. Nobody crashed, so that was a win.
Dinner was grilled meats, corn on the cob, and a few sides. Since they realized I would be leaving and would miss the big fish dinner tonight, they thawed a little fresh-caught Alaskan Salmon for me that Ben’s son, Beck, brought from his recent fishing trip.
More delicious food, keeping up a trend of good eats I’ve been feasting on lately. I’m not confident that I’ve done enough pedaling to justify my higher-than-normal calorie consumption of late.
I made a few more adjustments to my gear in a search to quiet my noisy bike. Putting the battery back on appears to have ended the annoying click I was experiencing in the vicinity of the bottom bracket, but that just made what seem like new squeaks extra irritating. I rode yesterday without my seat bag of road repair gear to see if that was adding to the squeakiness. It may have been better, but it wasn’t silent yet. My right shoe was doing some squeaking, so I’ve got a little tweaking to do there.
I think the problems might be a moving target that I’ll just have to learn to live with.
We ended the evening with a card game that involved dealing only one card to each individual. You just have to beat one other person, with the lowest card being the loser. Each guy started with three chips. The first person to lose three times and run out of chips gets to return to the game with one chip when play drops down to just three people left.
Last night, the person who earned that dubious honor came back to win the whole thing. It was highly entertaining.
The camaraderie is something I will miss, but I’m heading to a big night of visiting at Cyndie’s 50th reunion this afternoon and evening that I expect will fill the void nicely.
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Sunset Cruise
As soon as the match between Norway and England had been decided, members of five of the Wildwood Lodge Club families departed from shore on the pontoon for a slow tour around the outline of the lake. We grabbed the remaining appetizers we’d be grazing on during the match, along with preferred beverages, and settled in for a quintessential summer lake event.
When he realized he’d forgotten a hat and sunglasses, our clever captain Tom got creative about dealing with the low sun, taking advantage of a roll of duct tape conveniently in reach.
As far as ways to beat the heat go, an evening pontoon cruise with special friends on the lake is right up near the top.
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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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Eating Well
Our last day of riding on Sunday involved one primary goal beyond the joy of riding: breakfast at Greenwood’s Cafe in Reedsburg. It’s not very difficult to imagine you’ve stepped into the world of The Andy Griffith Show when greeted by the small town diner atmosphere, friendly service, and delicious food.
We jumped on the 400 State Trail near the north end of Wonewoc and rode about 15 miles to where the trail ends in Reedsburg. That stretch of trail is pretty flat. All of the trail riding we did over the last four days was railroad grade, so I didn’t even bother adding the weight of the motor and battery pack on my bike. I have a cover that fits over that space on the downtube.
It would have been blissful except for the click that developed somewhere in the vicinity of the bottom bracket as I pedaled, similar to the problem I encountered last year while riding in the Tour of Minnesota. I ended up having the bike shop deal with the situation last year. This time, I’m hoping to see if I can figure out the source myself and solve it by tightening any screws that may be vibrating loose.
At least we didn’t need to stop and remove downed trees from the trail on the last day of our adventure. However, the easy riding we did –the wind was at our back on the return leg to our cars– failed to balance the breakfast calories consumed. Well, and all of the other excellent restaurant meals we enjoyed and augmented with a bounty of snacks and treats we munched on back at our campsite each day. (Cyndie sent along some of her caramel rolls and walnut chocolate chunk cookies with me.)
It was an absolute joy to share the adventure with some of my favorite people, but returning to a full night’s sleep in my own freshly made bed just might be an equal experience on the scale of joys.
Home, sweet home.
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Storm Debris
We made it into our tents just as the storm front arrived Friday night. It was noteworthy, but we’ve slept through worse. However, the area the trail crossed just to our southeast must have experienced much stronger winds.
We risked our wellbeing to move what we could, and crawled over and under anything too big to lift.
The thick fog from morning dissipated as soon as the sun appeared, but lingered near the cool openings of the tunnels.
A good time is being had by all.
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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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Relative Something 