Posts Tagged ‘lake place’
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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Plugging Away
It was a calm day at the lake place yesterday. Since it was an off day for the World Cup, I made a concerted effort to get out and walk the grounds after watching the 5th Stage of the Tour de France. Later today, the tourney resumes with the first of the quarter-final matches kicking off. After watching the majority of the competition to reach this point, I feel compelled not to miss any of the remaining matches. I will keep plugging away at consuming the riches of spectator sports available to me.
That continues a frustratingly large number of hours in front of a television, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for entertainment’s sake. My days back on a lawn tractor will return soon enough. I’m trying not to think about how much horse manure is accumulating in the compost area that will need tending.
My survey of the grounds provided an opportunity to snap a few creative photos and witness the evidence in the gravel driveway that the storm that raged overnight between Tuesday and Wednesday created a bit of a flash flood. A significant amount of sand and gravel was removed along one slope of the driveway and poured down into the lagoon, leaving the water looking like a milky coffee drink.
The water at the beach remained clear and inviting, making for a perfect, soothing soak as the afternoon drew to a close.
A swim felt ideal after digging into a messy chore I’d been putting off since we arrived last Friday. There was a firewood storage box located on the upper deck of the house that was far from watertight. The dregs of firewood on the bottom were soaked and rotting. The plywood bottom of the box was rotting, too.
Unfortunately, that led to the boards of the deck underneath it rotting. When I looked in on it when we first got up here, I saw there was a hornets’ nest being built under the lid. It took me a few days to get around to dealing with that. Cyndie and I finally sprayed it on Tuesday night, and yesterday, I started scooping out the mess of decaying, soaked firewood left in the bottom. That process involved several trips down from the deck to dump the rotting gunk and felt an awful lot like plugging away toward accomplishing a task.
When I had the box emptied, I enlisted the help of neighbors to carry the box off the deck to a spot where I plan to unceremoniously deconstruct it. I suspect the old firewood box will become fuel for future outdoor campfires, that is, the parts that aren’t soaked and rotting, anyway.
The moral of today’s story: Water erodes gravel driveways and rots any and all wood with relentless tenacity. To avoid it, enact routine preventive measures.
You know, keep plugging away at it.
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Baby Deer
In the middle of a card game among six of us in the sunroom, a strange bird call started up. Someone suggested it was a catbird. It wasn’t a chirp or a cheep. I would describe it more as a higher-pitched “Meh!” repeating singularly. Cyndie was about to pull out her Merlin bird call ID app on her phone when someone noticed a baby deer out the window.
The sound we were all hearing was this wayward fawn, presumably calling for its momma. It was cute at first, but then it quickly loomed as a sad situation. Something didn’t seem right that this sweet little thing was choosing to wander so close to civilization when no other deer were anywhere in sight. We are not far from the heavily traveled Hwy 77, where wildlife roadkill is not uncommon.
Was this youngster orphaned?
Well, the sad reality is that when Ben and Beck arrived, they commented about seeing an eagle feeding on a deer carcass nearby. It’s not entirely an obvious confirmation, since the remains look like they have been there for a long time. Although it’s not clear that this fawn has only recently been left alone.
As evening settled in, Cyndie went for a walk and found the fawn still alone, hanging around in the woods between our place and the road. We plan to take a stroll soon to see what we might find. With luck, maybe another momma will show up and adopt the lonely little Bambi.
Cyndie put out some water in the area, but her research helped confirm that the best thing we can do is leave nature to take its course. By staying away, we actually increase the chance that another herd will come by and take it in as one of their own. However, this morning, she got a call back from a wildlife rescue organization, and they asked her to take a closer picture if possible. If there are flies around it and/or poop around its butt, it is a confirmation that no mother is taking care of it.
If that is the case, they seemed interested in taking some action.
Ben and Beck just returned from town with fresh donuts and reported that there are even more dead deer along the road, with eagles feeding on them. The wildlife must not be used to all this new traffic showing up to kick off the summer season of northwoods vacationers.
It would be best if we didn’t keep hearing the sad bleating of the poor thing for much longer today. That’s rather heartbreaking.
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Shooting Troubles
Our first day at the lake for the summer season was not one of total relaxation. In fact, it was a series of mysterious issues that required solving. Granted, some were notably first-world problems of unnecessary convenience. The electric blinds in Marie’s bedroom wouldn’t open. Since Cyndie and I are unfamiliar with this effort-saving phenomenon, she needed to contact her brother to find out how it worked.
The shades needed to be plugged into a USB charging port and then paired to the remote control. The remote needed new AAA batteries, too. There’s always one more step.
More pressing for Cyndie’s temperature sensitivities, we discovered the furnace(s) didn’t bring the house up to temperature overnight. It was a chilly 63° F indoors, which was definitely noticeable after climbing out from under the covers. There are two furnaces because a second one was needed when an addition was built to create a master suite on the main level, when stairs became problematic for Cyndie’s parents. Neither furnace was producing heat.
More calls to Cyndie’s brother, who installed thermostats that he is able to control and monitor remotely. Aah, smart technology. Too bad it’s only “so” smart.
I was impressed as heck at Cyndie’s wily problem-solving research after multiple power resets did nothing to fire up the burners. Speaking of burners, we had used them on the gas stove, so we felt lack of propane probably wasn’t the problem. Just to be sure, I trekked out to confirm the percentage of fill on the gauge on the tank.
Reading down the list of issues Cyndie found online, our memories about regularly changing the filter were triggered, and I was certain this would bring the heat.
Nope. It didn’t.
After the insanity of trying several things multiple times and expecting different results, Cyndie called for professional HVAC support. The best they could offer was emergency service after 4:00 on the Friday of this holiday weekend. She said, “Put us on the list.”
I built a fire in the fireplace and kept it stoked while Cyndie made a run to town for groceries, hoping to beat some of the Friday rush of the Memorial Day weekend vacationers. Her research had taught us what the number of flashes from the red LED on the furnace control board indicated (contact a service person), and she asked me to call the company to report our findings, in case that would help in any way.
I tried and tried, but couldn’t get through. Imagine my surprise when I looked out the window and saw one of their trucks parked next door.
There is new construction underway where the old lodge was torn down, so I assumed they might be installing a furnace. None of the guys working at the new place knew anything about the service truck. I walked into the existing cabin next door and found the man was servicing a plumbing issue. He didn’t do furnaces.
The good news/bad news result of the craziness yesterday was that a cancellation ended up freeing a furnace guy to show up early, but both furnaces needed control boards replaced, and those would need to be ordered.
They should arrive next week, when the temperatures are forecast to be in the upper 80s F, and furnace heat will be the last thing needed up here.
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Rewarding Things
As I was making progress with the string trimmer along the fence line yesterday morning, I had the thought that it’s one of the most rewarding things to see the fence freshly trimmed.
On my walk back toward the shop, I found Mia and Mix lying down while napping in the tall grass of the hay field. Light was doing the same thing inside the large paddock fence. I thought, one of the most rewarding things is, seeing the horses feeling so safe and content and lying down together.
Before I started packing for the lake, the backyard needed mowing. The dandelions were getting as tall as small trees. Not wanting to leave the mower deck all weekend without being cleaned, I parked the mower on two planks so I could scrape the accumulated grass clippings off the bottom of the deck the moment I finished. It led to the thought that it’s one of the most rewarding things to so easily scrape the deck clean while the gunk is fresh and damp.
We then packed the car, left Asher and the horses in the care of our friend, John, and headed to Hudson for the “Taste of the Valley.”
It was a beautiful night for a picnic. We enjoyed repeated rewards of flavors and textures. It was almost impossible to keep track of how much we’d eaten. Cyndie and I shared a lot of bites with each other.
The most rewarding thing came at the end of the day, as we arrived at the lake just after sunset and successfully avoided colliding with any wildlife when driving during the hours of low visibility. Still, we spotted one black bear in a distant field and one deer grazing precariously close to the road.
We stayed up late to watch Stephen Colbert’s last Late Show. Poor CBS. The broadcast company has become a shameful shadow of its former self. It’s been rewarding seeing how many people of good character have voiced their support of Stephen Colbert, and that his popularity has only grown since it was announced that CBS had canceled his show.
It was a good end to a very rewarding day.
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Dandelion Seeds
’Tis the season of dandelions gone to seed. In the soaking wet of morning dew, the wispy white remains crowning the tall stalks of old dandelions cling to our shoes in massive amounts.
The story in pictures:
Today, we are finishing preparations to be away from home for a long weekend. I have a small portion of mowing to complete. Cyndie is organizing things to ease the work of our house/animal sitter who will be staying here while we are gone.
Before leaving town, we have a date with friends in Hudson for the “Taste of the Valley” food and beverage event at Lakefront Park. I see 25 different providers listed for a dynamic selection of “all-you-can-enjoy” artisan foods. We plan to leave directly from there to head to the lake.
I’m bringing my bike along to take advantage of riding the less hilly roads through the forests of northern Wisconsin’s lake country. I will not lie about looking forward to having the option to linger in bed in the mornings for as long as my body desires, since we won’t have a dog to walk or horses to be fed for a few days.
If I still have an appetite over the weekend after tonight’s food extravaganza in Hudson, both Cyndie and I are looking forward to some pizza from our fav, Coop’s Pizza, and ice cream from West’s Dairy.
So, basically, I am going to the lake to eat and sleep in, and possibly do some bike riding. Any other adventures that present themselves will be icing on the cake.
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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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Relative Something 