Last Full Day on the Island

This packing up and shutting down business is the pits. And it seems like May 1, when we arrived, was yesterday. One of the drawbacks of having a split lifestyle (half here, half there) is that giant chunks of time disappear in an instant—tick, tock.

But as the poet said:  if winter’s here, can spring be far behind?

Saw this bit, below, online. A new organization, AOBS, I plan to join: .

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report) – Americans who are opposed to being shot, a constituency that has historically failed to find representation in Washington, are making a new effort to make its controversial ideas heard in the nation’s capital.

“When you bring up the idea of not wanting to be shot with members of Congress, there’s always been pushback,” Carol Foyler, founder of the lobbying group Americans Opposed to Being Shot, said. “Their reaction has been, basically, ‘Not being shot: who’s going to support something like that?’”

Foyler, however, believes that the right to not be shot, much like women’s right to vote, the right to same-sex marriage, and other rights that were deemed controversial in their day, may be an idea whose time has finally come.

“For years, we’ve been talking about the right to not be shot and people have been looking at us like we’re out of our minds,” she said. “But recent polls show that a vast majority of Americans, in fact, do not want to be shot.”

While Foyler and other anti-being-shot activists believe that Washington may finally be receptive to their radical ideas, Wayne LaPierre, the executive vice-president of the National Rifle Association, is doubtful. “People who don’t want to be shot are a very narrow interest group,” he said.

Packing Up, Closing Down

Long list of tasks, from cleaning the fridge, to wrapping the porch. Certainly, this is the down side of cottaging—unpleasant, but doable...........and it only happens once a year. 

Adding insult, the wind continues. We are now into day five of unrelenting near-gale-force north-east winds. I've read that the the unceasing winds out on the western prairies drove early settlers nuts. I understand. One can hope conditions change by Monday morning when it will be time to pull the waterline, during which operation the dingy is sometimes required. The past five days, nothing resembling a boat has been launch able.

I feel sorry for any late season boaters who need to get somewhere, because they're not.

Low fire in the stove all day. It is cold outside.

The Answer, My Friend...

...is blowing in the wind. Unfortunately, it is so far south of here that there's no retrieving it. So windy today (NNE) that it has blown all the sap out of the sarsaparilla, and most of the bark off the balsams. Yet we endure, though thankful to have all boats on dry land.

Slowly, but steadily the withdrawal and retraction continues. In the spring it is open up, set it out; in the fall it is bring it in, close it down. The days are numbered; just two more before we clear out and head south.

Relentless Wind

Thrashing trees, roaring surf. Not the marvelous quiet we know so well—but still brisk and bright, and invigorating, especially an outside shower just after sun-up. Wolf and Patrick helped us haul the Windrider this morning, and this afternoon she was  stripped and cleaned and prepped for her winter nap. There's woodsmoke in the air, but, sadly, almost all of it is heading quickly south.

To Little Current for errands, including coffee and a blueberry muffin, a drive by Low Island and Spider Bay, and a steep drive up McLean’s Mtn. Also, a stop at the Outpost to pick up a check of $37.50 (my half the price) for the one photo (out of 12) sold since the display of my stuff went up approximately two months ago. Not exactly hotcakes, although the Outpost management wants to keep the display, saying it looks very nice on their wall and generates a lot of interest (and very remotely I would say, might result in future sales).

Finished ditching our stretch of the Lane. Cool and crisp, with a strong north wind. The day fading ever so early, and now a fire in the grate

A Change of Pattern

Rain in the night. Cool north wind. Thoughts of a fire in the stove.

Looking through a folder of old Heliotrope papers I came across the checklist Unkie gave us prior to departure on our 1978 sailing trip.

Colloquy of Crows

Michael working on the second of his three boulders, all of which have a deadline of this Friday.

They are not the earliest risers, but well after sunup the flock of crows that roost here wake up and begin discussing matters. First one, then another, and then everybody all at once, and it is quite raucous. No point in trying to sleep past that.

The forecast today was clouds, rain, and cooler temperatures, so we began road work, clearing  and deepening the uphill ditch along our section of the lane so that the spring runoff will not run off across the road and erode it away. About halfway through the project we realized that it was sunny, dry and hot so we switched activities.

Sue got in two swims, which is not bad for September 28 (after cutting the grass and chipping some paths). I got in a bike ride, a sail, and a Pax ride. 

This evening, sitting on the deck, we watched our dozen or so crows come sailing in for their roosting rendezvous. Quite a lot of chatter as they decided on the perfect roost, but nothing like the morning colloquy. I suppose, working off on their own all day, they get starved for conversation.

Glorious Day

Pulled the mooring. Had to row up a brisk wind with a broken oarlock, but the shackle came loose, and with a float attached, the chain dropped to the bottom, where it will spend the winter.

Then, later, at 2:30, we get to the marina. Bright sun, clear sky, warm south wind, sparkling blue water, but nobody around. We run the 'Rider up on the beach, raise the main, and shove off, with the wind right behind us. The farther out we get, the more we notice the wind, until it looks like the wind aft is trying to bury our bow (which, of course, is impossible in a Windrider). So we pull into Sandy Beach and throw a reef into the main. 

On the way back, even with the reef, we are screeching. Then we notice Wolf out solo, reefed, thankfully, and it appears he is doing fine.  We fly to the east side of the bay, and tack and gibe in the gusty puffs off the marina until we are sure he can make it in okay. Then up, in the shifty shifts, onto the beach where we drop the main. Following that, we use the ancient 2-hp motor formerly assigned to Geode (bought in Two Rivers, WI, btw), to back from the beach to the slip, thus demonstrating the highest level of seamanship achievable. Pretty amazing to have a whole marina to yourself (not counting Wolf) on one of the most glorious days of the year.

This evening— hamburgers (etc.) at the Pinebox with J. and ME. and Murray and Elaine, and then down to the lower deck to watch the blood moon. As of now, the sky is still clear,but clouds seem to be creeping in on that muscular south wind.

September to Remember

Try To Remember The Kind Of September....

Beautiful day. To the dump, of course, but then a sail—only to find the steady east wind gone light and variable.  But who cared? It was fun trying to outsmart the puffs. Back at the property a steady east wind, sending in ten inch waves to endlessly trip on our ridge of rocks. Sitting in the Zen spot, I found it hard not to be hypnotized, rendered immobile, and like Sylvester, turned into a piece of the shoreline lithosphere.

Dismasted!

Continued brisk NE wind (with surf), but, still and all, a lovely day. Pulled the sticks out of Heliotrope for the first time in 20-some years (remembering  all the wiring disconnects was a bit of a challenge.) But, it will be good to re-paint the masts, replace all bulbs, put a new wind feather at the top of the mainmast, and check everything out. This kind of maintenance should be done every score years. (And, with the Canadian dollar now at 68 cents, it is time to make hay while the sun shines.

Crickets in the Wind

Pleasantly cool warm day. Onshore breeze all last night and all today, with a noisy surf almost drowning out the crickets. The leaves are just starting to turn—some maples tinged, and most ash (which are always the earliest) yellow and falling.