Posts Tagged ‘lake place’
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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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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