Posts Tagged ‘lake place’
Being Amazed
“It was such a beautiful day!” they said, expressing a level of astonishment over the change. A slow rumble of nearby thunder wafted through the open porch windows. I checked the radar for the umpteenth time to find the orange and yellow blobs covered in lightning bolts were still morphing amoeba-like just north of our lake. That storm cell had been hovering close for the last 45 minutes during which we sporadically received periods of just enough rain to make things wet.
The air was strikingly still.
Is it all that unusual for a thunderstorm to occur on the tail end of a beautiful day? I don’t think so.
In a way, I envy that level of becoming amazed by things that aren’t necessarily all that amazing. At the same time, it defies my sense of reality. I had just finished reading an account of the rescue operation after an incident where four people in two canoes had been swept over a waterfall in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness along the Canadian border in northern Minnesota.
It made me acutely aware of how everything can be completely fine in the moments before the onset of a tragedy.
How do we know when the calm we are experiencing at any given time is a breath away from the unexpected? In a way, it’s much more dramatic and amazing how common it is that nothing unexpected suddenly pops up. (I don’t mean to disrespect people who deal with mental health issues that involve symptoms of uncontrolled anxiety and maybe suffer a constant concern for possible looming calamities.)
People certainly have differing levels of perceptions. I can be embarrassingly oblivious to some scenery that means a lot to others. On our drive up to the lake last Thursday, Cyndie’s mom frequently marveled over the glorious summer views out the window. As we passed through the third or fourth town which triggered repeated amazement over lawns mowed or the floral arrangements displayed, it occurred to me how little I was feeling moved by the views.
From a farm just as we got started to Turtle Lake, Cumberland, and Spooner. They all elicited gleeful wonderment from Marie over the healthy displays of summery blooms. My lack of enthusiasm became increasingly apparent to me as her appreciative comments rang anew. Part of me wished to be equally amazed. The rest of me felt perfectly satisfied just the way I am.
Arriving at the lake, Cyndie’s and Marie’s first priority was assessment and care for the potted plants strategically stationed around the house.
That did not amaze me one bit.
I was much more surprised by the fact that the looming storm last night never arrived. Based on the view of the radar screen, it just lost steam and fell apart. Potential tragedy averted.
This morning, I’m feeling ready to take better notice of how amazingly beautiful our surroundings are here at the lake, rain or shine.
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Animals Again
We are headed home this morning after a long stay at the lake that included the holiday weekend. It’s been wonderful despite a rather scattered weather pattern that limited the number of warm, sunny days. I have thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of lying around in the mornings without jumping into clothes to walk the dog the moment we wake up.
At the same time, we do miss Asher and the horses. Our home and animal sitters have been sweet about providing frequent anecdotes about the activities at Wintervale. 
Apparently, Mix has developed some connection with one of the pigeons that has taken to perching on the post closest to where Mix’s feed bucket is hung. That’s something we’ve never seen before. That doesn’t really surprise me at this point, since we’d never seen the horses mangle one of the gates before, either.
I’m mentally prepared to need a little time to readjust to home life and the latest activities of our animals. Based on past experience, it won’t take long to get back into the swing of things. Before we came up to the lake, I’d only been home a few days from my week of biking and camping with friends on the Tour of Minnesota. I’d hardly recovered from the euphoria of that trip before diving into the power-lounging and lake swimming of the last ten days up at Wildwood. Settling in for real at home is something I’m looking forward to.
Well… settling in for 10 days or so before we return again to the lake for another 4-day weekend.
At least our animals will have had plenty of opportunities to get used to us occasionally disappearing on them for days or a week at a time with increasing regularity. I hope they sense how often we talk about them with people who ask about our lives in the country. Even when we are away, we bring the spirits of our animals with us to share far and wide with everyone who shows interest.
They really do mean an awful lot to us.
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Pickleball Tourney
Tradition is morphing in the Wildwood Lodge Club community for 4th of July games as we no longer split into teams of red and blue “Bats” against “Mice” in a series of classic picnic games. No more three-legged race. Balloon toss didn’t happen. Not even the watermelon eating contest was held.
However, in a nod to the good old days, the shoe kick was executed before we all headed down to the tennis court for the main event.
After that, pickleball ruled the day.
They claim a randomizer was used to create teammates and as can happen, one of the random pairs turned out to be husband and wife. My partner, Tom Whitlock, and I got knocked out in the semi-final round which was nothing to be ashamed of. It was single elimination so early losers didn’t get a chance to try again.
Most of us hung around to enjoy the competition as things grew increasingly interesting in the challenge to achieve the pickle trophy. That husband and wife pair made it all the way to the final match but they lost to a team that included last year’s champion. It may be the start of a dynasty.
Tom and I somehow landed premier seating for the final.
Late post today because I was distracted by Stage 9 of the Tour de France and all the sections of gravel adding excitement to the multiple attacks by the yellow jersey.
Many of the Wildwood crew are planning to head home today but we have a few diehards hoping to go tubing between rain showers before packing it in. Cyndie and I will stay one more night before returning to Wintervale tomorrow.
I’m looking forward to seeing our animals again.
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Wildlife Sightings
The day started pretty normal yesterday up at the lake, despite the fact it was a national holiday. Our community game day is scheduled for tomorrow since the 4th landed on a Thursday and not everyone was able to arrive during the work week.
First things first. Time to pump up the inflatables.
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While I was standing on the dock, I spotted a fish watching our every move.
Later, while we were sitting on the deck we heard the call of an eagle. It was perched in a tree at the side of the house.
We’ve heard multiple reports of bear sightings on the property. As Cyndie and her niece, Althea were about to leave on a trip to town, the young bear crossed the driveway a short distance ahead of them.
The visibility of wildlife helps to make it feel more like we are on vacation at the lake place. It’s like the frosting on our cake of hanging out with family and friends, laughing over stories, playing games, and sharing scrumptious meals.
I’ve almost forgotten what it is like to be home and tending to the property and animals each day.
Almost.
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Vacation Mode
A few days into our stay at the lake we are beginning to get the hang of not stepping out first thing every morning to tend to our animals. Thanks to our friends, Pam and John, we lounge around like a couple of retirees at the lake while they are taking care of life on the ranch. Yesterday, I responded to an innocent query about tricks for cleaning up under the overhang at mealtimes. It’s almost embarrassing, the amount of detail I can provide to describe my technique as an Equine Fecal Relocation Engineer.
Alas, I get to focus my attention on all the excitement happening in Europe. Between the Tour de France cycling and the Euro 2024 football/soccer tourney, I can almost fill an entire day entranced by spectator sports. Luckily, I stepped out for a breath of fresh air after England’s overtime victory and got invited to join in another pickleball game. That gave me an excuse to miss the Spain v. Georgia match and got me off the couch before the day disappeared into night.
I only had enough shoe left to complete two games before needing to retire. The surface of our old tennis court is pretty rough and my shoes might be as old as the court. These Adidas have served me well for decades, so they don’t owe me any money. After many, many games of futsal on the basketball floor at the health club, I retired these shoes to the lake place for any pickup soccer games or activity on the tennis court.
Yesterday, they suffered a fatal flaw that even my duct tape patch technique that covered the toe won’t fix.
Game over.
Time to switch to the next oldest pair stashed up here for just this situation. You can never have enough old shoes stowed away as backups at the lake. It’s where I keep shoes that are past their “best if used by” date but not yet tattered enough to trash.
The left shoe shown in the photo above has now officially earned its credentials for being tossed in the trash. The right shoe may still qualify to be kept in storage for emergencies in case the next failure happens on the other foot.
It feels like we are on vacation when this is the only level of concern demanding my attention in a day.
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Now Where
Does it seem like I just got home from a week away to you? It sure seems like it to me but Cyndie planned a quick turnaround and scheduled us for an extended stay up at her family’s lake home in Hayward. Who am I to argue?
We spent a better part of the day yesterday preparing to be away and guiding our friends, Pam & John through the intricacies of living in our house and caring for Asher and the horses while we are gone. It soon became obvious there are a lot of details to our daily routine once we tried describing everything to them.
We left home later than planned and decided to stop for dinner on the way. Sitting in the booth, waiting for the food to arrive, it occurred to me that it was the third time in a row we had eaten out.
On Tuesday, we met Mike & Barb in Hastings for a meal at Missi’s Sip and Savor. I ordered the Walleye. It was luscious. The server brought me a birthday ice cream dessert.
On Wednesday, we met Paul & Beth in River Falls for a meal at Tattersall Distilling. I ordered Salmon. It was perfect. The server brought Paul and me a birthday ice cream sundae dessert treat.
Yesterday, we stopped at the Lake Magnor Restaurant in Clayton. I ordered the Wisconsin Burger (basically a California with cheese) basket with fries. It was delightful and just what I craved. We stopped later at a DQ where I got a Frozen Hot Chocolate.
The “cabin” looks great.
Since we were last here, painters have stained the new logs and put down new sealant on deck surfaces and stairs.
The place looks ready for another season or two against the elements.
Tonight, we plan to make it four nights in a row and visit Lost Land Lake Lodge for their famous Friday Fish Fry for dinner.
Since we are now settling in for a long stay at the lake, the question is no longer about where we are now, it should be about where will we be dining next.
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Icy Adventures
We don’t usually spend much time up at the lake when the ice is about to vanish from the water’s surface. I find it very entertaining. Temperatures dropped far enough below freezing Sunday night that water to the shore, which was liquid when we arrived, had refrozen solid by yesterday morning.
As the sun climbed to a mid-morning angle, the lake began making a percussive symphony of booming and cracking sounds in response.
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There is an almost mystical energy unleashed by the intensity of natural forces pressing in multiple directions as the frozen surface reacts to wind, sun, gravity, the mixing of heat and cold, and the resistance of rocks and sand on the shore. When a fracture reverberates throughout the expanse of acres of ice, rumbling and echoing for almost a minute afterward, it can be felt in your physical core.
I notice my pulse speed up when it happens, and hear myself making sounds of appreciation that don’t actually form words.
The guys –brothers, Jedediah and Caleb– showed up to work on the rotting truss and were quickly introduced to Asher and some of Cyndie’s fresh-baked scones.
They installed extra (temporary) support to the deck and the bottom chord of the truss itself in preparation for assembling scaffolding for the job. After further analysis and some outside consultation, the decision was made to change to a “hammer truss” design for the replacement.
I’m looking forward to what they come up with. It should be easier to build and will eliminate at least one of the key points that was trapping water and triggering the rot. It will change the appearance of the front of the house and may take a little getting used to at first, but I am open to the possibility it may end up being more appealing in the end.
It will certainly open up overhead space on the deck and produce a more spacious feeling.
As the warm afternoon eliminated most of the new ice that had formed the night before, Cyndie and I let Asher have some fun along the shoreline.
He had a blast breaking ice and chewing some of the chunks. Falling into the water as sections of ice gave out beneath his weight didn’t seem to bother him one bit.
Icy cold doesn’t seem to startle him either.
It looked like so much fun, I needed to keep reminding myself I couldn’t step out to join him in the shoes I was wearing. That, and the fact that icy cold would absolutely make an impression on my feet.
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Feeling It
It’s been over two years since I retired from commuting to a day-job and yesterday was one of the few days in that span of time when I fully felt the liberation of not being tied to a work schedule. Sure, I’ve thrilled repeatedly over no longer feeling dread on Sunday nights, but those have seemed like small victories.
Yesterday morning, I didn’t change my routine with the shift of clocks to Daylight Saving Time. It felt liberating. Around lunchtime, Cyndie, Asher, and I hopped in the car to head for the lake place. Leaving on a Sunday night to go up north felt rather decadent.
We can go to the lake any day we’d like. We are retired. And I am feeling it.
With only ourselves to accommodate, I enjoyed the luxury of ordering a cheeseburger and fries “to-go” from a nice lakeside diner along the route to fulfill a craving that usually goes unmet. It’s often not the right time when we pass by or there are time constraints, or some other random obstruction that prevents stopping there. Finally getting what I always think about when we pass that restaurant made it taste even better.
There was no traffic heading our direction, though we passed a fair number of cars returning to the Cities. Many of them were carrying muddy fat-tired bikes after a weekend of riding CAMBA trails.
There does happen to be a method to our madness for being here on a Monday. Some work on the house is scheduled to start this morning by a contractor that Cyndie arranged over the phone. This will be a chance to meet him in person and be on hand in case any issues arise in the replacement of a bottom chord truss under the eave on the lakeside of the log home.
Being the only ones up during the week this time of year feels a little disorienting. We can make a mess of the house and not be in anyone’s way.
Actually, the place looks a little like the empty mansions in the movies with covers over the furniture. Cyndie didn’t want Asher to shed on the couches.
There aren’t enough people around to occupy the furniture so he thinks it becomes his responsibility.
I doubt he’ll have any time to rest with strangers working just outside the windows all day long. I expect they will need to be barked at with gusto.
It’s either them or the squirrels.
I think maybe Asher is feeling the same as us. Seems to me this feels a lot like being retired.
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Honorable Mention
There were many, many pictures taken over the weekend, most of which didn’t even make it into the photo contest. Some that were entered into the contest were overshadowed by those the panel of judges selected as winners. Today, I’d like to feature one such image from the most enthusiastic photographer in the contest.
I’m a little partial toward it because I also submitted a view of the same frozen lake for the Nature category. Abby and I share a similar perspective when it comes to photography.
Even though the saying holds true that what happens at the lake stays at the lake, there are a few tidbits that are bound to leak. I figure that if I get out front of any rumors that may spring up, I have a better chance of controlling the narrative.
No one can blame me for drinking all the orange juice. And those cheese puff balls that only lasted a short time never once passed my lips.
One particularly noteworthy situation that I adored sprung up when Elysa showed off the fraying thumbs of her fancy knitted mittens. We’d hardly returned indoors when I found my sister, Mary, hand-spinning some yarn for use to repair those knitted thumbs. Faster than made sense to me, Elysa was showing off that her mittens looked as good as new. Way to go, Mary!
For four days, it seemed as though there was constant activity but it never once seemed like too much. With very little pre-planning, wildly entertaining games seemed to blossom out of nowhere.
I had never seen most of the games and found them to be equally enjoyable whether I was in the middle of the actions or calmly observing from a safe distance. Off the top of my head, here are a few wonderfully descriptive titles:
Ouisi- Trash Pandas
- Tripoley
- Sushi Go Party
- Happy Salmon
- Cribbage
- Code Names
- Pokemon
- Twister (outdoors)
- Golf (with playing cards)
If we weren’t playing games or editing photos, we were eating. Smoked bbq meatballs, white chicken chili with cornbread, breakfasts with gooey caramel rolls, spicy biscuits and gravy, fruit salad, pizza from Coops, scrumptious salads, and dessert treats that shall not be named so no one has to think about those calories.
Additional honorable mentions go to Tim for his seamless ability to light pilot lights that inexplicably needed lighting, for tightening a loose toilet seat, cleaning the kitchen to exceptional levels, and for helping Nick on a run to the liquor store that included a stop at a hardware store for a wing nut I needed.
To top off all that fun, conversations flowed amiably in a wide variety of directions that included precious memories, humorous stories, and thoughtful considerations.
Now I miss everyone almost more than I can stand. Stopping all that brilliant sweet family fun so abruptly is not an easy thing to do. It’s really hard to explain to Asher where everyone disappeared to now that we are home where it’s just me, Cyndie, and him.
Hey, family… let’s not wait so long to plan another sleep-over gathering event next time!
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