Posts Tagged ‘lake place’
Early Return
Graced with a deceivingly pleasant October day of moderate warmth and plenty of sunshine, Cyndie, Asher, and I enjoyed a leisurely Sunday free of any responsibilities. I wasted some of it watching NFL football on TV, but when the game wasn’t going my way, I distracted myself with a jigsaw puzzle.
Cyndie rewarded me with photos from her first walk of the morning with Asher and their last walk of the evening.
When I took him exploring in the middle of the afternoon, I found the sunlight and the lake surface were far less captivating. During the weekend, we reached a point of successfully allowing Asher to romp off-leash, with the e-collar for prompts if needed. At the lake, since he hasn’t spent a lot of time here, we are cautious about how much freedom we are comfortable granting him.
Since the presence of other unleashed dogs is always a possibility that we don’t control, it’s a different gamble to have him running loose.
After dinner, while we were binge-watching the first few episodes of Season 3 of “The Diplomat,” Cyndie received a message that one of the owners of This Old Horse would be coming out this morning with a veterinarian to look at Mix. The cause of Mix’s occasional slight gimpiness in her hind end has yet to be confirmed. We both want to be there for the visit, so we initiated preparations for an early departure from the lake place before going to bed last night. The sooner we can get on the road this morning, the better chance we have of getting home in time for that.
It was a fun, uneventful getaway for a few days that gave us a chance to employ the two newest UWRF students who responded to our help-wanted post for feeding horses when we are away. Now it’s time to return to attend to all the activities on our weekly calendar of events.
Somehow, I have let the date of the anniversary of our move to Wintervale pass without fanfare. October 18, 2012, was supposed to be the day, but signing the paperwork was delayed by a few. We can now say we are entering our 14th year here.
It’s been a pretty good run. A lot has happened in the last 13 years, and it’s all been captured here in my ongoing memoir of a daily blog: the fun, the sad, and the embarrassing.
Here’s hoping the coming year will be filled with more fun than sadness. And lots of love, too!
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Protest Day
Just show up. If you do nothing else today, especially if you are one of the millions of Americans who neglected to vote in the last Presidential election and have noticed the current administration is operating more unlawfully than any previous one in the history of our country, join with your neighbors to voice your displeasure.
I OBJECT!
I object to EVERYTHING the Republican politicians and every last one of those who support them are allowing to happen to our country. Cyndie and I will be attending a gathering in Hayward, Wisconsin, today to stand up and be counted among the citizens who are upset about the simultaneous violation of people’s rights and the unabashed profiteering via all manner of grifts and bribery. The constant barrage of “Look what my right hand is doing while I use my left hand to enrich myself at all of your expenses” is heartbreaking and crazy-making.
Here we are in our favorite getaway spot, where it is about as peaceful as possible, living a life of luxury while our fellow citizens in states across the country are under constant threat of being kidnapped in broad daylight by masked thugs masquerading as legitimately trained, law-abiding officers. Hah! As if.
It is unknown how many of the local rural residents of this community will take offense at a democratic demonstration against the racist, homophobic, and transphobic biases that the current despicable President is flaunting, but we are hoping for minimal conflict at the Hayward gathering.
We don’t prefer to leave the precious sanctity of the lakeshore to stand along a highway on a beautiful fall day, but it will only be for a couple of hours at noon, and it’s for an unprecedented cause. Today’s protests are an attempt to turn the tide and light a fire under anyone and everyone who occupies positions of power to hold this administration accountable.
We will need to leave Asher on his own at the log house overlooking the lake, where he can bark at anything that catches his attention while we are away. It will give us an extra incentive not to hang around too long at the protest, even if we find it a treasure to mingle with people who openly agree with our disapproval over what is happening to our country.
Getting back to our paradise on the lake will be a soothing chance to unwind from the intense focus on the awful things we are objecting to and reinvigorate our goal to send LOVE out into the world as a healing balm.
I hope many of you will join in making your voices heard and your wishes known on this national day of protest!
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Work Dreams
After you retire, if you want to know how to start dreaming about bizarre work challenges again, just drive the commute to your old day job to walk through the workplace and visit all your former coworkers again. I did just that last Tuesday and was rewarded doubly.
I enjoyed the pleasure of seeing their precious faces again, while they applied their trade skills in a spiffed-up facility under new ownership and management. As a bonus, I was rewarded with a mostly unrealistic dream a night later, involving imagined situations I was supposed to play a role in, while having no idea how to proceed.
It was a treat to see them all looking as good as always, and have everyone still remember who I was. Of course, it helped that I brought a batch of Cyndie’s home-baked scones, fresh out of the oven, to distract them from any lingering memories of why they hoped to never have to listen to my lame attempts at humor ever again.
– Lynne, I’m sorry it took barely a few minutes before I came up with some snarky remark to poke fun at you. –
In the years since I retired, I haven’t noticed missing the work, but I frequently miss being with these people. We spend more time interacting with coworkers most weeks of a career than we do with our families. The folks I was lucky to be with for many years were a very special work family for me.
If only I could convince the staff that they should hold their next company picnic at Wintervale Ranch. I’m sure I could talk Cyndie into baking some desserts for the occasion. I would even promise not to make the manure composting area one of the main features I’d show off.
After a day up at the Wilkus’ cabin in the middle of the week, Cyndie and I have taken advantage of an opportunity to get away to her family’s lake place for the weekend. We brought Asher along, too, so we only needed to find coverage for twice-a-day horse feeding for the few days.
Since we prefer to wake up at the lake whenever possible, we drove up last night under the cover of darkness. I think it might have helped me avoid any more dreams about the old workplace.
When can I expect to start having dreams about weird situations of being retired?
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Couldn’t Fly
We drove home. The weather didn’t clear up enough in the Cities for us to fly Mike’s plane back. Not for lack of us trying to will the clouds to lift. We checked for promising progress frequently throughout the day, but that didn’t seem to help. A watched weather report doesn’t necessarily clear.
The focus of our dual-purpose trip shifted more toward the speedboat motor getting serviced and the boat being brought back to the storage building on their secondary property.
That gave us time to kill, which we used for another walk through their woods.
There was a fair amount of bright fall colors in the leaves near the ground.
However, there were very few leaves of any hue left in the branches overhead.
The boat dealer told Mike they could have his motor service completed by 3:00. If flying weather was going to improve enough, Mike suspected it wouldn’t happen until around 4:00. The potential was there for us to accomplish both his main goals, even though Mike was more than willing to take care of just one and call the trip a success.
If a window of good flying weather conditions opened up, we would take it immediately and leave the boat to be picked up on a future trip to their cabin. We plotted a course of action for the day, packed up our gear, and left the cabin to walk more trails on their property.
After that, we headed to town for a late lunch and then drove to the boat dealer to wait for the service work to be completed, watching flying conditions on an app all the while.
It wasn’t improving at all.
The call to report the boat was ready came at about 2:58. We hooked it up and drove back to their property to park the boat and trailer in their storage building. Then we drove back into Grand Rapids and stopped for one last check at around 4:00.
It was obvious, which made it an easy call, despite how badly we both wanted to fly. We were driving home, and into the dark of night. The flight would have taken around an hour and twenty minutes. The drive was over three and a half hours.
However, fear not! We had each other and my digital music library for entertainment. The time passed easily, especially with Mike doing the driving. It’s a route he has traveled for 40 years, making him an excellent tour guide for points of interest along the way.
I was only away from home for 35 hours, but Asher gave me a greeting when I walked in the door like it had been a LOT longer. I suppose he was measuring my absence in dog-years.
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Seeking Normalcy
No masked soldier-looking thugs showed up to violently “detain” me over the weekend, despite my unwavering stance that their motives and methods are completely un-American and patently illegal. I’m stressed with concern over the odds of unjustified force escalating in the cities currently being targeted, either fabricated to create an appearance to their liking or as a result of threatened citizens lashing out due to fear and anger in a way that triggers an even harsher response from the goons.
It all seems like such a premeditated provocation with no valid justification, were our laws being respected in this country. There is no reasonable logical excuse that explains the actions of these military attacks on citizens. It is just plain wrong, but what is more frustrating is the fact that it openly continues to happen without accountability.
Maybe if I had just agreed to pledge my $5 a month to the non-profit political organizations that oppose the philosophy and behaviors of the current administration, this would have all been stopped before it started.
Cyndie and I are making plans to participate in the October 18 protests to stand among like-minded conscientious objectors and vent some of the frustration building up with each passing day. The absence of functional checks and balances being enforced to interrupt the sullying of our democracy is truly heartbreaking.
We are looking into the possibility of protesting in Hayward, WI, on that Saturday, as we are hoping to embark on a mid-October weekend visit to the lake place. It’s been a while since we gave Asher a chance to join us there, so we are planning to include him, too.
The possibility of rain yesterday came true for us, and as expected, it ushered in more seasonably cool temperatures. Maybe in two weeks, it will feel like October up north.
Today, we are breathing a sigh of relief and putting on long sleeves to enjoy a little normalcy for the occasion.
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Destination: Camp
We have fled the big city for the scenic forests and laid-back living of rural Maine, where Barry and Carlos have created a glorious woodsy retreat, a second-home vacation-getaway-lake-place that is referred to in these parts as “camp.”
To get all six of us here in one vehicle, we rented a huge SUV and packed our luggage to the brim. Then we stopped for groceries on the way and tucked those bags in any space around our seats. It was a quick two-plus-hour drive to camp near Cornish, ME, not far from the border with New Hampshire.
It didn’t take long for the four people with a passion for swimming to don their suits and hustle down to the water for a dip. The featured photo for today is how I found them when I made my way down from the cottage. I told them that I took a picture of them “swimming.”
Eventually, three of them made their way fully into the water, and then Barb and Barry got in their laps of various strokes.
We met some neighbors and enjoyed a wonderful visit while their hyper dogs flailed their energy in every direction. The reason we checked in with them was because a third neighbor had offered up an extra bedroom in their place, but the key they gave Barry wasn’t the right one.
The key was meant to be a “just-in-case” backup because they were going to leave the door unlocked, but the cleaner had come and locked things up when she left. Luckily, she lived close and was able to come and open up for us to use.
As soon as the sun got low in the sky, the temperature began to drop, giving us a wonderfully cool September night. Barry grilled pork tenderloin, and we dined and told stories on the porch.
Today, hiking in the region is the plan. Maybe I’ll find something to photograph while we are out and about.
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Sunday List
Yesterday, we enjoyed a classic Sunday at the lake… forgive me for choosing to simply list the ways:
- wife on the deck powering her way through to the end of a book
- an inspiring song popping up on the random shuffle of my entire music library
- the success of a reply to a broadcast message seeking volunteers to occasionally feed horses
- hummingbirds returning to the freshly filled feeders
- the ping of an alert informing us of a flood watch issued for overnight at home
- acorns randomly bouncing on the deck from the branches of the oak tree overhead
- dew point in the 50sF and air temperature in the low to mid 70s
- a single loud and clear loon call in the middle of the afternoon
- meditative progress on sanding out tool marks from a sculpted wood shape
- using up all the food we brought from home without needing to shop or eat out
- allowing ourselves an exception to buy fresh corn cobs from a street vendor on the way up
- mentally winding down a weekend at the lake
- not leaving until Monday morning to avoid Sunday’s usual travelers returning to their homes
- sheets and towels washed in advance to facilitate an early morning departure
We head home this morning, where we will learn how wet it got after the series of deluges that rolled over the region while we were up north. Only one of those downpours made it to Hayward. The rest of the time, we enjoyed pleasant mid-August at-the-lake weather.
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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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Lazy Daze
We are missing out on the wild thunderstorms pummeling the Twin Cities and Wintervale over the last 24 hours because we are up at the lake again. The mass of wet weather is large enough this morning that we are getting a dose of thunder and lightning to start our day, but yesterday was a long, slow, lazy, eventless day up here.
After lounging in bed for longer than I have in a long time, the rest of the day included a leisurely visit to the beach, a perfect nap before dinner, and not much else in the way of activity.
The rain this morning is moving in very slowly, and the air is ominously still. Most notable at this point is how surprisingly dark it is at 9:00 a.m. Cyndie moved the car into the garage under Cabin 3 just in case we get any hail. The weather app on my phone is pinging me with warnings for both Beldenville and Hayward.
These super-sized thunderstorms are the new norm in this ever-warming climate swing. Multiple inches of rain in short spans of time are becoming a common occurrence.
It’s looking like today may be just as lazy as yesterday for us, and that’s just fine. Has us feeling a little sheepish about leaving our horse-sitters to deal with all the weather drama, though. At least Asher doesn’t have a problem with storms, so they won’t need to worry about him.
My motivation for the day hasn’t changed much from yesterday. Maybe I’ll see if I can fit two naps in before dinnertime.
Feeling lazy and only mildly dazed.
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Flirting Danger
Sometimes in life’s adventures, dangerous situations are encountered. Between rainstorms yesterday, Paul, Randy, and I hit the road on our bikes –two of us only figuratively, but for Paul, it was literally.
I suspect his Parkinson’s is playing more and more of a role in his occasions of close encounters with the unforgiving earth while bike riding, but Paul ending up on the ground during bike rides has been happening for as long as we have shared time as cyclists.
Yesterday’s was one of the less forgiving instances. We had just made a decision to extend our planned route based on time available and distance involved and turned left instead of right. As we blissfully rolled along, Paul was behind me. I heard him vocalize a version of “uh oh” and felt his front tire pressing on my rear tire.
If you’ve ever watched much of the Tour de France, you’ll recognize that this situation rarely turns out good. I stiffened up to hold my bike upright as Paul unsuccessfully attempted to decouple us. I could tell by the sound of what followed it wasn’t a soft landing.
He was a bit of a mess, but dodged the calamity of broken bones. I pulled mud out of his helmet and attempted to calm his anger at himself, slowing his breathing so we could take a moment for assessment. Randy squirted some water on his wounds. We aborted our planned extension and headed straight back to the house to temporarily patch him up.
His wife, Beth, was scheduled to arrive by noon to pick him up and drive to visit friends in Upper Michigan for more cycling.
“Hello, honey…” Nice surprise for her. Beth is as stoic as Paul, and they packed his stuff up and headed off for the next adventure without much fuss. Paul texted an update that they visited the ER in Marquette, and he was given the okay to continue with ride plans after fresh applications of antiseptic and clean bandages. No stitches required.
While the more dedicated golfers forged ahead with their games for the rest of the day, despite the rain, the remaining group of us entertained ourselves with card games and a few minutes of televised golf, and a Vikings preseason game before getting in some boating action when the weather got nice.
A cruise on the pontoon led to a visit to Powell’s restaurant across the lake, where cocktails and tossing bags filled the time while we waited for a table.
I’m pretty sure that Joe’s throw fell cleanly through the hole after I snapped that photo. When I checked on the other four guys inside at the bar, I was unable to tell which group was having a better time.
The sun was setting before our food arrived, but nobody cared. Steve had initiated a round of sharing highlight memories each of us had from the many years of this annual adventure, and a lot of love was evident.
Our last flirtation with danger was navigating our way back across the lake after dark with unofficial lighting and me as the designated driver.
I am not a natural boat captain.
With Steve’s expert guidance and help in doing the actual departing and landing, we returned safely to Wildwood, where we reconnected with the other golfers.
Oh, there was one more dangerous act to report. I sacrificed my good health by staying up way too late for the third night in a row to hang out on the deck with music, laughter, heartfelt sharing, and disgusting cigar smoke.
Sometimes it is worth living dangerously.
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Relative Something 