Summertime

A Lazy (Photoshop Haze Removed) Summer’s Day

The boys are on the move today. Dan leaves NYC by car and Dave flies from Boston. They should make Ann Arbor sometime tonight. Then tomorrow they drive up here to the cabin. Everyone is looking forward to seeing them. When they arrive, I will no longer be the baby of Curmudgeon Court. That’s OK.

Yesterday, we feted Harry for his birthday. Because it was his birthday, he was entitled to torture his wife, by first piling most of the furniture from the Great pretty good Room in front of her on the hearth. He then threatened to also add the couch that she was seated on. In the end, it was the whine of the vacuum that drove her from the cabin, but because it was his birthday, he was entitled. Anne made her now legendary hummingbird cupcakes. There should still be plenty left to share with the boys. We took Harry out to dinner at the Great so-so Wall, a Chinese buffet. In the evening, I asked him if he had had a good birthday. He said, “Yes, there were no arguments.”

The photo is from one of the nicer parts of yesterday. Afterwards, thunderstorms in the form of a marine warning rolled across the lake making for a dramatic view until this line of storms rolled over us too. In the evening, it became quite still and a bit oppressive, but at sometime during the night, the wind came up and today we are experiencing quite a blow. Cabin weather, as Anne calls it. 

Ezekiel 4:9

Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes, Death Valley

When I first began coming to my in-law’s cabin, I stirred up a breakfast cereal controversy. I liked Cocoa Puffs, which my mother-in-law thought was simply horrid. While maybe not as healthy as the rather bland and tasteless cereals that they preferred, I liked it and in the scheme of things, what is really all that awful about chocolate frosted sugar-bombs anyway?

Take wheat and barley, beans and lentils, millet and spelt; put them in a storage jar and use them to make bread for yourself… – Ezekiel 4:9

Anne and I were in Meijer’s yesterday, working our way through the shopping list, when we came to bran. Harry had asked for it and had just written the word bran. When we got to the cereal aisle, we spied boxes of Food for Life’s Ezekiel 4:9 Sprouted Cereal for sale. Maybe if you find yourself lost in the desert for forty days and forty nights, it might be a good idea to have a bowl of it. I mean, how much more inspirational can you get, then by quoting the Bible, chapter and verse? We thought of getting some for Harry, just to see his reaction, but it cost twice as much, for a box that was half the size of other brands. In the end we decided not to and got raisin bran and not just bran. Hang the expense. 

Today, Anne went to town to do yoga and I went for a bike ride. I rode out to the lighthouse. On the way out, I rode through where the 6 mile construction crew had constricted traffic down to one lane. I almost made it through the mile and a half, before cars began coming the opposite way. I ducked into the closed lane.

I got to the lighthouse just as the Soo Locks Tour Boat, which was doing its regular Wednesday run out to the lighthouse and blew me a master’s salute. On the way back I first stopped at the Dancing Crane for a little latté. I again navigated the construction slalom and again couldn’t make it to the end before the other cars began coming at me. Another cyclist going the opposite direction had just made it through in time.

I stopped at the Bay Mart store in Brimley. Going in, I noticed a sign on the door that read, “Cyclist, please remove your helmet.” Figuring that the sign was for full face masked motorcyclists and not bicyclists, I didn’t take mine off and I thought I detected a look from the clerk, but it must have been something else, because he greeted me warmly with the news that tomorrow they will stripe 6 mile. Plans are to have a bike lane for the entirety of the newly paved road. 

Camp Grand-Martyr

Liz and Anne Share a Laugh

Hello, Mutter! Hello, Farter! Here I am at Camp Grand-Martyr.

While, Anne is singing,”I am the very model of a dutiful daughter.” I am left to fend for myself. Or rather, I wish that I was left alone, because there are always hordes of mosquitoes buzzing about me and when they bite me, I welt-up like a SOB. Lately, though the wind has kicked up and today I was able to walk the beach with Anne, at her pace, which also is the same one that those flying, six-legged demons seem to prefer, but because of the blessed wind, they were no where to be seen. Golf balls were the walk’s theme. I collected 18 of them. The first few had washed up, but most of them had to be fished out of the water. Where they came from is anyone’s guess. 

These balls had positive buoyancy, but only just so. After I had waded out to them, if I tried to spear them and missed, they would sink and take long seconds to resurface. My last experience with golf ball retrieval was in in junior high. When we were living in Maryland, my brother and I would sneak into the Congressional Golf Course, fish golf balls out of the water hazards and then sell them for pennies on the dollar, on the back nine. Those balls had sunk to the bottom. The groundskeepers would occasionally try to shoo us off, but their hearts were never ever in it. What eventually curtailed this rather lucrative trade, was leeches, which we came home with one day. I’ve always suspected those groundskeepers of seeding the water hazards with them.

We partied last night with Anne, Bill and Liz. Liz left today making me the baby again on Curmudgeon Court. Sam and John blew by today, from Atlanta or Newberry, depending upon your point of view. We hope to visit their cabin later this week. John has promised me that they don’t have mosquitoes.