Posts Tagged ‘lake place’
Fun Moments
A few highlights from this weekend at the lake with Cyndie and her mom:
- Cyndie surprised us with some letters she recently uncovered in our archives at home while she was looking for something else. There were almost a dozen, still in their stamped envelopes, written to her by her family while Cyndie was going to school in Spain back in 1977. The amount of detail that Marie (unsurprisingly) wrote gave us a fascinating window into that time of our past. Cyndie had grand plans to have a friend join her after the school session ended to travel around Europe, but had to scrap that adventure when she became dangerously ill and had to return home. Apparently it was wicked cold in the Twin Cities that winter, and the high school hockey team Steve played with was having a winning season. Those subjects were among several that received repeated mentions.
- I spent a chunk of time working on a website for my high school class that we will use in promoting our 50th reunion next summer. Using text messaging to communicate ideas and get feedback from my sub-committee back in the Twin Cities, I was able to make good progress on customizing a pre-formatted site from a service into something more aligned with our sensibilities. You know, changing corny into cool. My classmates deserve something that better reflects who we were back in the 1970s, when “All in the Family” and “M*A*S*H” were on television. That was back when our generation figured we were going to change the… Never mind.
- Yesterday afternoon, when I found myself getting nowhere in a struggle to outsmart the site’s formatting, I phoned my software-savvy son, Julian, for advice. We linked up so he could see my screen, allowing him to guide my explorations as we unraveled how the available features could be coped with to achieve my goals. It seemed promising when he discovered I could open a view of the source code. Using his code-writing skills, he would text me a block of code to insert into my draft. It is such a thrill when progress is made. I laughed out loud over the fact that we were pulling off our successes with him at home in the Cities, and me on a laptop in the sunroom at the lake. Alas, in the end, I had to settle for a compromise from my ideal when it became obvious that the host software was overriding our customizations at a certain point.
Now that I think on it, this isn’t much different than the battles I wage against the regular “upgrades” to my WordPress platform that are intended to make it easier to use but often end up preventing me from executing the preferred formatting I’ve been using for years. It’s tough being a dinosaur in today’s world.
[insert Tyrannosaurus rex roar here]
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Happily Ensconced
Barely suppressing feelings of undeservedness, I am happily ensconced in the sunroom of the lake house with the 9th and final stage of the Tour de France Femmes on my computer while hoards of hummingbirds dance around the two feeders hanging under the eaves.
I am well aware of how lucky I am to have a place like this; a world away from Nice, France, where the women bicycling athletes are waging a heroic battle in brutally extreme heat, climbing the same peak four times in a row in this last stage of the race, while I recline in the cool morning air overlooking the lake.
A good life, indeed.
A postcard experience, in fact. I’m having a wonderful time. Wish you were here!
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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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Active Day
Yesterday started a little earlier than usual for us because the farrier was coming to trim the horses at 7:30. Asher was confused by us getting out the door so close to sunrise. We wanted the horses to be finished eating their servings of feed to avoid any unnecessary distractions by the time they were supposed to be cooperating with the farrier.
After I cleaned up all the manure (equine fecal relocation), I took Asher back to the house for his breakfast and ended up missing the entire trim appointment. Cyndie said that Light was very cooperative. That makes us really happy, because it hasn’t always been a sure thing with her. I think it’s fair to say that we’ve been seeing a positive trend of willingness from Light in the last year.
Cyndie supported my decision to take my bike for a spin before heading up to the lake for a few days of her two brothers’ annual golf weekend. I’ve concluded that my bike is still noisy and now my new shoes squeak, too. That clicking is an issue that I’m tired of battling, so I may end up living with it. There are still one or two things I plan to test, so a tiny glimmer of hope remains.
The route I chose for my short romp ended up bringing me to a monster of a hill climb that had me in serious oxygen debt. It was so bad that I never fully recovered for the remainder of the ride. It didn’t help that the temperature was reaching the uncomfortably hot levels at the same time. When I finally reached home again, I was thoroughly pooped. I grabbed the pulse oximeter to see what my numbers were. Yikes! That explained why I felt so lousy.
The highlight of our day came at dinnertime. We picked up our neighbors on the north edge of Pierce County, Ann (Herzog) and David Drewiske, and headed to LoLo American Kitchen & Craft Bar in Hudson. David gave us a wonderful tour of back roads to avoid traffic caused by ongoing road construction. The menu at LoLo is laudable for the quality of every offering. I recommend it highly.
I ordered the Miso-Glazed Coho Salmon and Cyndie had the Grassfed Bavette Steak Frites. Yum!
We didn’t linger long after eating because I was about to make the drive north with my bike stowed safely in the back of my car.
I made it through dusk and into darkness without incident, arriving at the lake house a few minutes before 10 p.m.
The sky views transitioned from the orange setting sun to the orange rising moon over the duration of my drive, allowing me to wake up this morning at my favorite destination.
I plan to go for a little bike ride before all the golfers begin to arrive this afternoon. Tradition has it that we congregate at Angler’s Bar in Hayward for dinner Thursday. Hopefully, I’ll ride myself up a worthy appetite.
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Goodbye Cousins
We miss them already. Yesterday afternoon was a series of hugs, salutations, well wishes, and goodbyes as most of the folks departed for their homes or next destinations.
Pick a color. Any color. Cyndie’s twin cousins, Mike and Tom, appear in all their brilliance. A rare moment when they aren’t displaying their usual smiles or infectious laughter.
The morning brought opportunities for some heartfelt sharing, adding depth to connections bolstered by this rare occasion of spending multiple days together free from any official events demanding attention. Well, that is, beyond the fabulous meals that kept happening.
I began the day with an immediate question for Cyndie when she woke up. Had she heard the dramatic clap of thunder from a lightning bolt that must have struck very close during the night? The flash was so bright that the pink glow that filled the window was apparent through my closed eyelids.
It became suspicious when she reported not hearing a thing, and I saw that surfaces out the window showed no evidence of it having rained. I checked with a few other people as the morning went on, but nobody had heard such a thing. Could it have been something I dreamed? It was so real to me.
When I mentioned it to Heather’s husband, John, a meteorologist, he pointed me to lightningmaps.org, where I could look at strikes in the last 24 hours.
There was no lightning strike for miles. What an amazing dream experience I’d had.
Cyndie and I finished off the last night of our long weekend with a couple of rounds of Hollywood Rummy with Sara and Althea. I enjoyed no luck.
This morning, we will pack up and head for home. I will only have a couple of days to ensure everything is ready for visitors on Thursday. Cyndie has invited folks from one of her drawing classes to come explore the views for inspiration toward their next works of art.
I plan to depart that day for a return to the lake, this time with my bike. It’s the annual golf (and biking) weekend hosted by Cyndie’s brothers, Steve and Ben. I will be accompanying any of the guys who want to mix in a ride after swinging the clubs.
It’s a tough job, but it’s what friends do.
Delicious Dining
One of the treats I am enjoying this weekend is the contributions of meals that have been outside of my norm. While the dinners have been from local institutions (Coop’s Pizza and “Famous Dave” Anderson’s version of barbecue from Tamarak Farms), the Brolin cousins have served up special versions of breakfast and lunch offerings.
Our weather yesterday hovered on the edge of being less than spectacular, with periods of misting precipitation and a lingering gray sky most of the day. That didn’t completely interfere with the pickleball games or the pontoon cruise, but what little swimming did occur was delayed until close to dinnertime when actual sunshine eventually appeared.
While in Norway, Cyndie and Elysa were introduced to a version of the “Hollywood Rummy” card game that I finally got a chance to play. It works really well with a large number of players and supports a fair amount of verbal action, both about the game and not.
While waiting for Steve and Ben to succeed in locating and porting a photo slideshow to the main room TV, I offered up the YouTube video I made of my family’s Intervale Ranch to give everyone a glimpse of my past. It’s been fun for me to be immersed in the pictures and stories from Cyndie’s and her cousins’ families, so I thought they might appreciate a little morsel of mine.
I can tell already that this joyous weekend will produce the residual longing for more after everyone returns to their real lives.
As always, it is the bonding with people that is such a treasure. The delicious eats are merely an added bonus.
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Cousin Weekend
Not my cousins. We are back at the lake again, this time for a special weekend that will include Cyndie’s cousins on her mom’s side. Marie had one sister, Joan (pronounced JoAnne), who had four kids. The kids are each married and will be joining all of the four Friswold siblings and their spouses without any of our kids for a distraction-free weekend of laughter, memories, and bolstering of the family bonds.
Cyndie and I arrived mid-afternoon yesterday, picking up groceries in Hayward for the weekend that Cyndie purchased online from home on Wednesday night. She was so excited to discover it was possible. There was a childlike glee that had her mentioning several times on the drive up how pleased it made her feel. It’s hard to deny the ease and convenience of avoiding the crunch of other shoppers up and down aisles and getting through the checkout lanes, and instead, pulling up to the front of the store to have all our groceries placed in our car.
Some people wouldn’t want to settle for someone else choosing their produce, but for the convenience, Cyndie is willing to flex her standards. The corn I was tasked with shucking all looked more than adequate to me. When asked by someone about how they did with selections, Cyndie rated it a solid medium.
Faint praise, maybe, but certainly acceptable.
Being the first ones up, we immediately set about opening shades and windows, turning on ceiling fans, putting away groceries, and refilling hummingbird feeders. The landscape pond needed water added. The new mattress for the hide-a-bed needed to be unboxed and allowed to expand.
Most of the preparations were in place by the time Barry, Carlos, and Marie arrived. They made it just in time to accept an invitation to join folks from three other Wildwood Lodge Club member families for a happy hour pontoon cruise.
I don’t know why we bothered with a dinner plan for later in the evening. I ate more than a meal’s worth of scrumptious appetizers throughout the practically 2-hour float around the majority of the lake.
Never ones to stop a meal plan already in motion, the Friswold hosts whipped up a feast of grilled burgers, corn-on-the-cob, salad, and potatoes after we got back to shore. It was about three hours past my preferred dinner time and only about an hour away from my bedtime, but I nibbled half-servings of two options. It is difficult for me to lie down to sleep when I’ve still got a meal in my stomach; however, they serve up some irresistibly delicious cuisine.
I made a worthy exception to my usual routine.
This afternoon, all the other parties will gradually arrive, and the games, excited banter, precious memories, raucous laughter, and likely too much food will unfold naturally. It is reasonable to assume it will be sustained for the ensuing 48 hours.
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Monday Departure
Alas, today we are leaving that fabulous air-conditioner-in-the-form-of-a-lake right outside our door and heading back home just as a hotter surge of weather is due to arrive. Looking at the predictions for both home and our lake place reveals a surprise: temperatures up north will be a few degrees hotter each day than down in Beldenville. Still, both will be in the 90s (F), so the difference is negligible.
Lounging in the water was the primary goal for the day after completing a few minor final preparations for a reunion with Cyndie’s Brolin cousins up here in two weeks.
We are anticipating 17 people that weekend and have arranged to use an extra room from two of our fellow Wildwood families to give each couple their own space for sleeping accommodations. Throughout the previous week, Cyndie has been doing some long overdue reconnaissance to track down towels. There are bath towels and beach towels, not intended to be used interchangeably, and color combinations that match the many bathrooms.
As of today, order has been restored.
No guarantees how long that will last.
One of my favorite features of our retirement is having weekends at the lake start on a Thursday and end on a Monday. The Sunday evenings are so serene following the typical hubbub of weekend water activities. The island near our shoreline attracts increasing boat parking every year, with all the clamor, kids screeching, and unwelcome loud music that typically accompanies it. When nobody is left there, the eagles return to roost on the tall pines, and calm settles in around our bay again.
It’s hard to begrudge the folks who don’t have the luxuries of beach property like ours, who must rely on sharing limited space around the small island to enjoy a brief taste of lake life; however, I’m not above feeling particularly grateful to have them depart. One late afternoon when Cyndie and I hit the beach for a swim, it felt a little embarrassing to be the only ones down on our expansive sandy shoreline while seven or eight boatfuls of people were sharing the limited space such a short distance away.
It’s hard to deny the elitist appearances, as much as I wish it weren’t so.
That concern will be dashed in short order as I return to shoveling manure and mowing overgrown grass this afternoon. We’ve been away for twelve days, but it barely feels like half that long. Goodbye, Wildwood and hello, Wintervale!
We’re coming home, Asher!
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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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Relative Something 