First Amendment

Not even a hint of cloud in the sky. Chilly in the shade, warm in the sun.  

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To Taylor sawmill this morning, to order up more battens and trim boards— for the upstairs bath, one upstairs bedroom, and the porch. (The end is in sight.) A walk with Pax along the river, helping him exercise his bum leg. Also, plastic wrap removed from the porch, and the back deck swept clean (mostly residue from the icy snow pile, which is now quite gone).

And, garden amendments: 40 liters of Meeker's Magic Mix (fish compost) and 36 kilos of "fumier du mouton," which I think translates to "stinky sheep fumes." Plus one wheelbarrow-full of variegated beach glop, and a nice pile of leaves Sue raked off the driveway. This may seem like enough of a first amendment, but really when you turn it all into a 96 square foot garden it amounts to little. And, I'm starting to think that the beach glop might have been a mistake—what kinds of lifeforms are lurking in it, ready to strangle the tomatoes?

Thyme Marches On

Dark, chilly morning with spatters of rain.  But well before noon all soggy thoughts dispersed, and a bright sun, making garden work a sweaty exercise, in spite of a cool onshore breeze.

Trimmed up the herb garden, with Sue suggesting I do it in the fall instead of now because thyme goes to seed, and we now have it popping up all across the gravel driveway. Which makes me wonder what would happen if we didn't pluck it out—would  we create a road back in thyme?

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I'm not sure which little one put the stones on the log, but they are still there.

I'm not sure which little one put the stones on the log, but they are still there.

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Thinking garden, I decided to try adding some beach glop, as a form of compost. If you think about it, beach glop should be very beneficial to growing vegetables. Certainly, they have seldom encountered it in the wild.

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The photo above does not show it, but the garden plot was studded with clumps of clover. Using the narrow spade I tipped them all upside down, knocked the dirt off as best as possible, and threw the roots over the side...jettisoned them, in fact. While clover is a legume and therefore most likely fixing nitrogen in the soil, space in the garden is limited and I don't much like the taste of it. The worms, in contrast, apparently do, because beneath each clump were many.

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The bit of rhubarb root given us last fall by Don L. is apparently establishing itself alongside the garden. Once can never have enough rhubarb—I'm heaping Whitewater rhubarb compote on my yoghurt every morning, and feeling mighty fit as a result. (Actually, rhubarb being so early, was a godsend to early settlers who were close to scurvy when May came around.)

Waves in the Firepit

Another beautiful day on the Island.  

The wetland out front remains brown.

The wetland out front remains brown.

River running hard, but not flooded. Word has it the smelt run last week was wonderful.

River running hard, but not flooded. Word has it the smelt run last week was wonderful.

Hosteen Turtle, biding his time along the river, is growing lichen, thus adding verisimilitude to his presence along the path.

Hosteen Turtle, biding his time along the river, is growing lichen, thus adding verisimilitude to his presence along the path.

Wind building from the south-east this afternoon with waves rearranging the charcoal in the firepit. Lots of stuff has washed away and lots of stuff has washed up. We have a collection of logs that I don't remember meeting previously.

Breakfast at Mum's! Also a brown loaf, and just one apple fritter (which is being doled out piecemeal, over time). We went to Mindemoya on business, you understand.

Removed a spruce that had fallen across the Pine Box driveway, and then the top fourth of a smallish poplar that had come down on the Pinebox garage roof. Now we can drive all the way around the U-shaped driveway, which I did today in collecting stuff for the first dump trip of the year. Dennis, the dump meister, his usual self—cordial, but anxious to move me along so he could talk at length to one of his buddies in the car just behind.

As we were out doing chores, Murray drove by (and stopped) on his way back from Gore Bay to buy a new pump for his water system. They arrived yesterday, so we beat them by a day. All is well with them except for the pump, but that is very much to be expected, here in cottage country.

Swept Out and Settled In

Lots of mostly pleasant chores today accomplished at an enjoyable pace.  

In the maple forest on the way to Murray and Elaine's...leafless.

In the maple forest on the way to Murray and Elaine's...leafless.

Unmelted patches along the lane.

Unmelted patches along the lane.

Water continuing to climb, and aiming for the pumphouse.

Water continuing to climb, and aiming for the pumphouse.

Back deck snow removal operation.

Back deck snow removal operation.

Brilliant day. After a chilly start, still and warm—eventually much warmer than inside the abode. Shoals of ice piled up on the south side of Gooseberry.

Shoveled some of the snow pile on the back deck figuring that if I didn't do so we be climbing a glacier in June in order to reach the outdoor shower.

A Fire in the Stove, Water in the Pipes

All is well in Kagawong.  

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May 1—quite a fine day to arrive. High alto-stratus with a diffused but bright sun...and warmth...60 F, or thereabouts. The house still standing and exhibiting no signs of neglect. Pine Box looking good. Evidence of previous minor erosion but not much flowing now. Swales wet, but not full. Much colder inside than outside, but a big fire in the Osburn, a radiant heater cranked in the upper bath, and some pretend baking in the oven, and we are warming. It will take my feet a while though, since they were wading.

Snow on the north slopes and in sheltered locations, but no ice on the bay. The bay flat calm, which facilitated the deployment of the water line. I waded to within an inch of the top of the chest waders and lowered the pipe-stand with its attached foot-valve. But with the water so high it was not out far. So, the two of us turned the Suzie P (strangely yellowed over the winter) right-side-up and launched from land. Using the the marking float line, I heaved the pipe-stand off the boulders and Sue rowed, and now we have the foot-valve somewhere out by Clapperton—in very deep water.

The water is high, higher than it was last October—and we are very early in the annual water cycle. While nothing is knowable in advance, historically the water continues to rise until somewhere in July. We are definitely on the upside.

Apart from the waterfowl on the bay you would not know it was spring. Mostly pale shades of gray and brown, with the hardwoods maintaining a dormant appearance. Very little green.

But all is quiet—very quiet. When the gulls shut up there is basically nothing to hear—and I like that. An absolute silence like this is good preparation for listening to Rachmanioff's "Variations on a Theme of Chopin."

The only problem is...I don't have my chartreuse Rockport baseball cap. Forgetful as I am, yesterday I left it hanging on a plant-stand outside Aunt Janet's house, where we enjoyed a visit complemented by kringle and coffee. Maybe too much kringle?

Obviously, Vianet works...couldn't be blogging without it. And, (I will say this sotto voce, so as not to jinx it) it seem to be faster than it was last year.

So, in summary, we made it back to where we once belonged.

North With (To?) The Spring.

We outran the rain, and found warmer temperatures as we came north. Cloudy but mild in St. Ignace. No ice. Ferries running. 

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Water along Green Bay as high as I can remember seeing it, and it has flooded the phragmites, killing a lot of that noxious weed.  The beach at Manistique almost gone with phrag roots holding the last bit together. We are starting to discuss whether, last fall, we pulled the dock sections high enough up our beach. 

Lively Tea Party

Ellie's big sixth, complete with Mad Hatter. Lots of fun and games. 

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Now We Are Six

By A. A. Milne More A. A. Milne

When I was one,
I had just begun.
When I was two,
I was nearly new.
When I was three,
I was hardly me.
When I was four,
I was not much more.
When I was five,
I was just alive.
But now I am six,
I'm as clever as clever.
So I think I'll be six now and forever.

 

Also, first rhubarb harvest. 

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Rain Changes Everything

What was hard, harsh, ragged, and rough, changes quickly into luxuriant, lush, lissome, and alive. 

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Some light rain this afternoon. Maybe enough to do some good, but certainly enough to dampen the lawnmower man who managed to arrive here for the first time this season, just as the drops started dropping.

A package from Nik today, including some Giant Peruvian Inca Corn. This is the answer to the parched corn conundrum. The bag should come with a warning not to open.

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And, another package—this one from Mark Smit. He and I had been talking about the amazing—truly spectacular—accomplishments of the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) during the Depression, and he sent me this book about CCC Company 1608. I've come across CCC works in Illinois, Wisconsin, Arkansas, Michigan, and, I suspect other places, and always been astonished by the quality and beauty of the work. This was one of the greatest government programs ever, it made the country a far better and far more beautiful place. I can't wait to read this book. We need an ongoing CCC, now and forever.

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One Horse Town...

...certainly an underestimate because without doubt there are more. Horses are allowed in the City, so I presume chickens and goats are as well.  And, really, it all makes sense since some find the distinction between farm animals and college students razor thin.

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Can't buy a drop of rain here. Storms all around, and even a storm warning, but nothing but warm winds and the occasional big clod, I mean cloud.. 

Surprise, Surprise

Last night Renee called and asked if we could be home this morning to receive a package requiring a signature. That was baffling. But, yes, we could. Thinking about it, we thought:  Ellie's birthday is coming up soon, so that could be it, but then what could be so valuable as to require a signature? Is she getting a surprise iPhone?

This morning, as we were having coffee, we found out. The whole Nies family, showed up on our doorstep, for a visit—and what a visit it was. Breakfast at Jessica's, lots of playground time at the park and then hide-and-go-seek up on the hill and around the water tower. Also some bike riding...Ellie no longer need training wheels. And, lounging on the back patio, flower picking, playing post office in the garage...generally enjoying a fine spring morning.

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Then, this evening, as we were sitting out on the back patio enjoying a fine evening, we noticed an unusual blob way up in the big ash tree that resides between us and the neighbors. We had heard rumors of a huge raccoon roaming the neighborhood, and closer inspection revealed the blob to be it. Eventually, the animal descended and ambled off. And the whole time Pax stayed inside.

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Home and Garden

Not here. Fox Point. 

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Helped out there—Mimi inside, me outside‚ for several reasons, to whit:  1) Katy's birthday party coming up on Sunday, 2) it takes a long time to move into a new house when there is really no time to do anything, so that almost a year after the actual move, there is still lots to do 3) Ab is ramping up a major agricultural operation. Check out: Chickens Change Everything.

The photos, above, show that the seeds recently planted have germinated and are sprouting. Abby now has an excellent grow room set up on the basement. It's a small room occupied by the furnace, the water heater, and the grow stand with all its grow lights. A great place to start seeds. Great place to grow year 'round crops like micro greens, sprouts, and...other things—if one were so inclined.

Outside, Ab has a cold frame, a vertical garden nestled against a warm brick wall, and a hoop house. Of course, all this this is just ancillary to, and supportive of, the roof-top farm.

Dumb Bunnies

Three lively youngsters, feeling the spring, racing around the back yards,  Running right for Pax, who, but for his bad leg, would have intercepted them. They lucked out with Pax, but probably won't be so fortunate with the feral cats.

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Warm and humid, with lots of cumulus, but no nimbus. Morning fog.
To a meeting regarding a new grocery store in Whitewater, and then out to dinner with the Johns' at the Second Salem brew pub. The food was good, but by the time we were wrapping things up we had to converse in sign language due to the extreme volume. It being trivia night, the place was filling with a college crowd, and they apparently are mostly deaf.

Light, Late, April Showers

Much cooler, a little light rain. 

First tulip

First tulip

Redbuds

Redbuds

Garden recovered—there will be no weeds.

Garden recovered—there will be no weeds.

We are starting to think that Pax will make it through this surgery. He no longer needs to lick, and he is using the leg to walk. Oh, what a relief it is.

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The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.
       –Robert Frost

Sunny, Still, Hot, and Dry

Oddly, we need rain. 

This magnificent magnolia is beginning its show. 

This magnificent magnolia is beginning its show. 

This may look like the pot'o'gold, but actually, it's nascent basil.

This may look like the pot'o'gold, but actually, it's nascent basil.

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The above info-graphic is from the CIC. Someone must have weeded through all the nearly 12,000 comments to make this tabulation. It seems pretty clear that the people are opposed. But the decision is up to the eight Great Lakes governors. Only three of them are democrats—Minnesota, Pennsylvania, and New York. Any one of the eight can scuttle the Waukesha proposal. Will any one of them do it? We'll find out in May.

Another Hot One

Again a twenty-degree difference between Whitewater and Fox Point. The kids did well as over-nighters; we had a lavish breakfast, and then a picnic lunch on the front porch (because it was shady and we were hot from all the scootering and bike riding). 

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Katy and Will picked daffodils, grape hyacinths, and dandelions, all ostensibly for their Mom, though I'm not sure any of the flowers actually reached their final destination.

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Of course, we finally had to take the kids back to their point of origin in spite of vociferous protestations to the contrary.