Posts Tagged ‘lake place’
No Storms
It’s occasionally startling to get an alert on my phone about an imminent storm threat and then find out it is for home when we are at the lake, or vice versa. Yesterday we had our minds prepared for the possibility of a brief burst of stormy weather near Hayward in the afternoon but the radar showed cloudbursts appearing more to the east and we never received any precipitation, dramatic or otherwise.
Meanwhile, the warnings I was getting for Beldenville had me regularly monitoring the radar down there and though some instances looked pretty intense, it never appeared to zero in on our property. Reviewing news headlines before turning in for the night revealed stories of serious damage in Hudson with a building losing its roof, many large trees toppled, and thousands who had lost power.
The path of many storms over the years has been Hudson–River Falls–Beldenville, so I asked Cyndie to text our animal sitter, Grace, to see what she had to report. Thankfully, she wrote that a little thunder and rain was all that occurred. I’m happy we didn’t get any hail, as there were many images posted of large hail that had fallen from other storms in the area.
Thanks to the good weather we enjoyed at the lake, our day was filled with a morning walk, paddle boarding, kayaking, swimming, and a ten-person happy-hour pontoon sightseeing cruise around the many bays of Round Lake.
The last few days have been getting sequentially worse in terms of air quality but we are clinging to hopes for a predicted improvement today or tomorrow. My understanding is that the days will continue to grow hotter for the rest of the week and the chances for thunderstorms to suddenly appear remains likely.
We’ll keep an eye on the weather apps and spend most of the storm-free hours either in or on the water when not up on the deck enjoying meals and beverages to fuel our adventures.
It’s a hard life, but we will give our all to luxuriate in it to the fullest degree in honor of those who are committed to actual income-producing engagements during weekday hours.
Before the week is over we will be returning to real life and more than enough work is waiting for me at home to quickly jolt me out of my summery vacation dream life. Thus, the zeal with which I seek as much time soaking in my favorite lake as I can muster while time allows.
Storm-free hours are greatly appreciated.
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Evening Thunder
In that cabin 3 bedroom, just inches from the open window, the peals of rumbling thunder were an almost spiritual meditation lulling us into slumber last night.
After a brilliant day of pickleball and swimming followed by a nap and a fabulous dinner out, we finished the night with five of us around the table in the porch for a card game.
I had no inkling that a mellow thunderstorm was coming until a notice appeared on my phone. Cyndie had already made her way over to the little cabin and was almost asleep when I shuffled over before the rain arrived.
It didn’t show signs of getting windy so we left all the windows open wide and let the symphony of rain and thunder serenade us to sleep.
My Tour de France entertainment is over for another year, freeing up my morning hours for a return to normal routines, except for days when the Women’s World Cup soccer tournament games of primary interest happen in Australia and New Zealand during the wee hours of our local time.
Being a sports fan can be demanding sometimes. [play tiny fiddle of sympathy here.]
Company’s coming today! Our friends, Barb & Mike Wilkus are due to arrive this morning, launching a few days of added lake place bliss for us. Blessings abound and we humbly revel in the friends, family, and experiences we are able to enjoy this week.
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Different Sleep
A change of perspective is always a valuable experience for me and this weekend up at the lake we have been residing in the old cabin #3 beside the main log house above the water. It is one of the original cabins of the former fishing lodge that Cyndie’s family saved when the Wildwood Association transitioned to families owning individual lots.
The Friswolds moved cabin 3 to a new foundation farther back from the lake to make room for the new log home they had built back in the early 1980s. When our kids were young, we spent most of our time up here in the old cabin, granting people in the big house respite from the clamor of infants waking early and the occasional outbursts of either glee or angst associated with that age.
Currently, there are no young ones of the next generation in the family and cabin 3 gets used less often, primarily as overflow accommodations when attendance numbers swell for a weekend.
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Cyndie and I are really enjoying the throwback to a time when our primary experience up at the lake was from the vantage point of the old, and much smaller cabin.
I have been sleeping deeper than in recent memory and with Asher left back in Beldenville with a sitter for this visit, we have no reasons to rise early. This morning the 8 o’clock hour had arrived before we got up. I had woken early and read the whole paper in bed on my computer and then faded into a morning nap that felt rather decadent.
The small rooms and close proximity to the ground (in the big house we usually sleep in the loft) make it feel like we are almost sleeping outdoors.
The view out the back window is one I relish for the trees and forest floor I’m most attracted to for a natural environment.
It’s as if I’m forest bathing all night long as I sleep.
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Plenty Attention
Today will mark the completion of Asher’s first week at the lake. It’s fair to say he has adjusted pretty well to all the combinations of people and other animals that swirl around the Wildwood property in general and Friswold’s “cabin” in particular.
He is getting big love from all of Cyndie’s family and learning how to not bark at every movement of other people he can see from his lofty vantage point out on the second-story deck.
Cyndie and I have experimented with different attention exercises for Asher that we learned about in the obedience classes.
Tossing morsels of his dog food into a tub filled with toys requires that he push around items that may have fallen from his interest to find the snacks he can smell.
That tends to renew his liking for some items he had begun to ignore.
Asher has a remarkable inclination to push his squeaking tennis-style balls underneath furniture. When he tries that game out on the deck, the ball tends to roll off and fall to the ground one level below. Yesterday, I went down below and initiated a game of catch where I would throw the ball back up over the railing.
It proved to be an exception to the norm of so many other games where he tends to be the only one really enjoying it. I was having a blast trying to catch the balls he was nudging over the edge and then tossing them back up in a manner that gave him a fair chance of catching it with his mouth.
Beck devised a modified chew toy combination that has become my favorite. He forced one of the larger Kong balls in the middle of a hard chew ring.
It makes it harder for Asher to pick up but he seems interested in the challenge because he can almost get his teeth on the half of felt-covered ball that sticks out of each side.
Asher was flipping and kicking it around with great fervor yesterday. It seemed almost too hard for him to separate the two toys at first but now it is getting easier with practice.
With all the fun and attention Asher has been enjoying up at the lake this week, I’m starting to wonder if his eventual return home will become a disappointment for him.
Not that I’m projecting how we feel when we get home onto him or anything…
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Top Down
With a title like “Top Down,” you might suspect my mind is stuck on the incredible and a little bit crazy escapades of the Tour de France racers making their way down the sides of mountains at ridiculous speeds. I’ll admit, the thought did cross my mind but, no, this choice of words came from the way the tree in front of the house next door is dying.
When we were up here for Memorial Day weekend, the leaves all looked healthy, but Tom told me it was going to die because squirrels (the most likely culprits) had eaten away the bark over winter.
There is no denying the accuracy of his prediction now. I was startled to see how dramatically the demise was represented in the gradual decline of life from the top down.
In circumstances that echo our experience with the maple tree we transplanted to the center of our labyrinth at home, this was the fourth tree that Tom and his dad had tried growing in that spot. This one had finally proved a success but now that achievement has ended up being short-lived.
At least a half-dozen other similar-sized trees on the properties up here suffered the same fate over the winter. I don’t know what drove critters to devour so much tree bark up here last year, but now I want to wrap the trunk of our maple at home before next winter arrives.
It’s such a helpless feeling watching a tree slowly die.
Meanwhile, the number of little oak sprouts that appear on our beach every year (only to get plucked because… it is a beach!) is mind-boggling.
I’d like to volunteer to transplant a handful of those sprouts up to the vicinity of the dying maple of the Whitlock’s and we can see if one takes.
We’ve all been marveling over how unnoticeable it is that so many trees were cut down up here last November. The remaining trees have done well to fill in the gaps that were created by the removal of ailing ones.
If the planet hadn’t just set a new record for the hottest temperature ever recorded, I’d feel a bit more optimistic about the overall health of our forests up at the lake as well as at home.
It certainly has me appreciating what we have at this moment. Here’s to all the trees that are currently healthy from the top down.
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Swimming Deeper
While I was watching the third stage of the Tour de France bike race, Cyndie was outside walking Asher. I spotted them down at the beach and was happy she had him playing in the water again. Soon after, I heard Cyndie calling for him. Then I heard her calling for me to go after him from above.
Asher had decided to take off down the shoreline to our west. I had just started into the woods between our place and the next property over when I heard shouting from the island out in our bay. People there had seen our dog run up from the lake toward the house above.
Eventually, I was able to nab Asher and get him home in time to watch the finish of the day’s bike race. Later in the afternoon, at a time when the beach was sparsely populated, Cyndie and I took Asher back to the water with a 30-foot leash to keep him from running off.
It had become a very hot day and I was happy to immerse myself in the water where I could coax our pup to do the same. Asher showed great interest in coming out to meet me but quickly turned around after just a few paddles in the deep water. It was interesting to witness the look of apprehension on his face as he experimented with the new adventure.
We got him to swim further and longer with each invitation but he always wanted to turn as soon as possible to get back where he could stand again. The funniest behavior he displayed was his urge to do the classic doggy body shake to get the water off his coat even though he was still standing almost to his neck in the lake.
After a busy day of new activities, Asher showed more interest than usual in doing some power lounging on the couch in the porch.
I think he is adjusting well to the pace of life up at the lake.
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Stage One
It’s baaaaack! The Le Tour de France bicycle race is grabbing my attention for another year. Too bad broadcast marketing geniuses have their coverage primarily hidden behind a pay-to-view provider to which I am not subscribed. At least the opening stage was teased out for free this morning on NBC.
Yesterday, I gave Asher an extended car ride for his first trip up to the lake. Cyndie came up a couple of hours later with her mom. We face the challenge of introducing Asher to the many other dogs that run loose around the six-family compound.
Fingers crossed that we achieve a comfortable normalcy without incident. I walked Asher down to the lake where he demonstrated a profound disinterest in getting wet. It will be interesting to see how long he maintains that behavior.
I’d say we are at stage one of familiarizing the pup with our lake life. It would be nice if we had a team of 8 to help guide us like the cyclists racing in the Tour de France. In those terms, I suppose Asher would be the leader and we are his domestiques.
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Community Dinner
It’s Memorial Day holiday in the U.S. today, honoring our nation’s war dead. I have not directly experienced this kind of loss so my observance is generalized to the memories of all those who never returned home.
Our holiday weekend at the lake shifted from working together to socializing outside the lodge. Despite having ridden my bike past the sign announcing our high fire danger earlier in the afternoon…
at dinner, we lit the wood in the fire pit in the hope some smoke would keep the mosquitos at bay. Those pesky blood chasers are more troublesome this year than I remember them ever being before.
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The gentle breeze off the lake was supposed to help reduce pressure from the flying bloodsuckers, too but it died down shortly after we gathered. It didn’t take long for the skeeters to get the upper hand. The lack of breeze made for less smoke from our fire, too.
At least that meant less fear of losing control of the flames in our fire pit.
The evening socializing was cut short as we all were chased indoors. At our place, a few more card games broke out on the porch.
It is feeling an awful lot like this is a holiday weekend.
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Anecdotal Evidence
Before I launch into today’s thoughts and opinions of *This* John W. Hays, let me just report that the re-installation of a battery in our generator was accomplished without difficulty. It went back in a lot easier than it came out. We are once again prepared for any calamity that might knock out power at home.
Today, however, we are not at home.
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Can you say, “Lake place?” My favoritest of places (away from home)?
Cyndie and I listened to a podcast about brains, neuroplasticity, and autonomic nervous systems on the drive up, making the trip go by in a blink. We stopped in Cumberland for an ice cream treat and met another couple from the Twin Cities heading to their cabin. They pressed hard to sell us (maybe successfully) on attending the annual Rutabaga Festival in August.
The lake place provided some anecdotal evidence of the changing climate. First, the mosquitos have made an early appearance with an intensity that is much more reminiscent of mid-summer. Second, the trillium blossoms that are usually at their glorious best on Memorial weekend look a little past peak already. Having cleared tree branches last November (when we were up here and Cyndie shattered her ankle) there is a new visibility of trillium on the slope below the house.
Third, the poison ivy that could frequently be found on that slope is making visible gains in both directions, toward the lake below and into the mowed areas above. This expansion mirrors what is happening at home. The growing season is a little longer with the warmup in spring happening earlier and the hard freeze in fall happening later. Poison ivy seems to be thriving with these changes.
We left Asher at home this weekend with a sitter who will tend to the horses as well. Before we left, Cyndie wrote a detailed essay on how to care for Asher so the sitter would know exactly what the pup needs and when. Some of them were simple, like bedtime.
An hour and fifty minutes beyond that time last night, Cyndie got a text with a photo of Asher seated nicely beside the sitter by the fire pit out back of the house. I told her that the dog is going to love it when we go away and leave him with the sitter because all those dang rules the parents have get loosened.
Today is work day and we will probably focus on cleaning the beach. I haven’t checked the temperature of the water yet but if it looks so much like summer around here, maybe it will be warm enough for a swim when chores are done.
The evidence is yet to be revealed.
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Subscription Confirmation
What did I click on without realizing it? I have no doubt that possibly happened. I also would not be surprised to learn that this company which I’m not going to bother naming chose to subtly opt me in without informing me.
I received an email with the subject line: “Subscription Confirmation.”
“You’ve accepted the following offer”
“Your subscription automatically renews until canceled.”
Huh? Wasn’t me. Cyndie assures me that she didn’t subscribe to anything. Ten bucks a month if we didn’t notice and cancel.
I will take great comfort in whatever struggle is involved in asserting my intention to get this subscription canceled.
More pressing things are on my mind as we pack up to drive home this afternoon. Mother Nature is keeping me occupied by delivering messy precipitation before I finished clearing all the snow that fell last Thursday. In our haste to drive to the lake on Friday, I left the deep snow around the hay shed and in front of the barn unplowed. I also didn’t finish clearing snow off the pavement in front of the shop.
As we were leaving Friday with our eyes on yesterday’s American Birkebeiner ski race adventures and a weekend with our friends, the Williams family, I felt it was well worth skipping out on snow-clearing chores at home.
UMD student Ella skied the big 50K race in pretty decent winter conditions. I thought the wind was a little brisk for spectating, but that would be a rather petty complaint to make in the face of the many hours-long efforts the skiers exert.
This morning my phone alerted me to a storm warning for tonight and tomorrow at home that will start with rain and turn to snow. I really dread dealing with that on top of the areas of snow I have yet to clear.
I didn’t sign up for that. In fact, I’d like to cancel any subscriptions that involve rain during our winter months.
Thank goodness the ski race in Hayward happened in good snow conditions. Just moments ago, while I was writing this in the sunroom overlooking the frozen lake where several deer had run across toward the island, one of the local eagles flew into the large pine tree just beyond our deck.
It did some wiggling with wings flailing on the far side of the trunk and Cyndie wondered if the eagle was eating something. Then the powerful bird took flight with a good-sized branch it had broken from the tree and headed for its nest over our tennis court on the far side of the fateful footbridge over the lagoon.
I would rather sign up for more of this than tomorrow’s weather adventures expected to occur at home.
But heck, either way… ADVENTURE!
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Relative Something 