Well That Was Easy...

...not.  

Light rain all the way until Little Current, then heavy rain, but eventually easing up. 

The village seems to have survived the winter. Oddly, half a dozen cars at the falls, perhaps because the riverr’s roaring, or possibly smelt?

Serendipity Lane passable—pot holes not too bad. 

At the compound, all buildings standing, and no major trees down. Some erosion, bug no real damage. Swales are full, and rivulets running. Big lake water level is high, with substantial rise yet to come.

Water line reconnection more difficult than normal. Took over an hour with the Guzzler to bring water up to the jet pump—slight air leak in the connecting hose probably cause. In spite of the cold, rain, and mud we persevered.

Then—once water to the jet pump and the jet pump working and sending water up to the house—a faculty connection to the upstairs toilet causing a rainstorm in the lower bathroom, while down below, a spray nozzle popping off a hose under the kitchen sink massively flooding the kitchen.

Apart from that, no problems.

The vehicles are unloaded. A fire is crackling in the stove, and we have hot and cold running water! 

(N.B. The outdoor shower is not yet functional.)

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Road Toads

Some sun, but mostly fog, mist, and rain all the way to St. Ignace. Water everywhere—rivers flooded, fields flooded, Green Bay as high as I have ever seen it. I'm thinking we may have to raise the Kagawong pump-house to avoid electrical problems.

Fun to be here at this time of year when all is just awakening. Cornish (Upper Peninsula) pasty for dinner.

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Midge clouds, all along Highway 35 from Marinette/Menominee to Escanaba—out weeks earlier than our Kagawong crowd.

Midge clouds, all along Highway 35 from Marinette/Menominee to Escanaba—out weeks earlier than our Kagawong crowd.

Thanks to Mimi for photos.

Loaded

A day of somewhat tedious packing, loading, clearing out, cleaning, and prepping Whitewater for it's fallow period. On the down side, too much lifting mixed in with the tediousness. On the up side, a modicum of fun trying to solve the puzzle of getting everything stowed. Also some fun in having have unlimited opportunity to mess around with rope and bungee cords.

I believe we are set for an early departure tomorrow, en route to points north. Perhaps we'll escape the cold, wind-whipped drizzle that bedeviled today's preparations.

In other words, a day spent fixing to get ready to go.

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Grand Party

Ellie birthday, and Katy too, approximately. Summer kickoff. And Will soccer game. And off to Canada. Etcetera. 

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Nasty, cold, windy, rainy day. The wind, the cold, and the mud of Will's soccer match brought back memories. But afterward,  back at the house, all warm, dry, lively, and delicious.

Lots of Last Minute...

Minutiae.  

While living in two places has its upside, it can also be a pain, mainly revolving around the question of what's where? The objective is to minimize the schlepping of stuff between locations, but there seems to be a whole lot of stuff that does need to travel—headphones, tooth brushes, eye vitamins, hand tools, knee pads, foot wear, etc. It's a lot to remember.

Things are piling up in the breezeway prior to loading.

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It is a known known that we will be leaving green behind as we head north. But, it clearly is time to get out of Dodge. A dozen-siren parade this evening, celebrating some university championship. (Remember, this is siren city.) Major, major baseball tournament in Starin Park, starting tonight but peaking tomorrow. And the annual university drink-fest this weekend, too. The City of Whitewater has set up a huge perimeter of snow-fencing to keep the baseballers separate from the drinkers.

Remoteness becons.

It's Snowing

Apple blossoms and serviceberry blossoms, and almost something like real snow. A ball of petals bigger than a grapefruit off the end of a downspout. Also, a sharp reminder that summer is not here yet. Cold and windy, with many a passing shower. Beneath the "snow"—intense green. 

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Boat Swap

Jet-ski out, iceboats in.  

Violas

Violas

At Roger's farm, south of Whitewater. But not the old, tried-and-true Roger, but the new Roger, whose farm backs up on the old Roger's farm, but on a different but parallel road about half a mile away.

The new Roger is a wealthy man—gorgeous farm, top quality equipment, spends his winters in Arizona. A spread that is immaculate—everything perfect: trimmed, mowed, and clipped.

Once we got the ski out of the barn and the iceboats in, we talked for about half an hour. And, lo and behold, I found that Roger is a really good guy, one who uses no-till farming, likes worms so doesn't' use pesticides or anhydrous ammonia, is opposed to mega dairies (CAFOs) and high capacity wells, and has no use for Scott Walker and D. Trump.

As a result of our congenial conversation he also gave me a discount on storage of the iceboats.

Scrub the Floor

And other maintenance items.  Pax and I did the big loop in shirtsleeves for the first time, but even lightly clad we arrived home sweaty. 

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Sad to read of the passing of Robert Persig, author of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, a book we sold  a lot of, and a book included in my select list of essential reading.

For diversion, we are watching on Netflix "Death In Paradise" a murder mystery set on Martinique or similar island in the Caribbean, alternating with Shetland, a murder mystery set on the Shetland islands (off the north coast of Scotland). And then the question becomes, where would you like to live—Carribean or North Sea?

Getting Ready...

...to get ready.  

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Trailer pulled out of the mud in the back yard. Truck washed. Dog washed. Various items starting to pile up in the garage in anticipation of being loaded. Some supplies purchased. Last round of yard and house work. And, somehow quite a few hours misplaced, so that supper was late.

Summery day, with no wind. 

Tulip Time

And beet planting.  

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Twelve rows of beets, each about 10 feet long, so maybe a good crop come fall. But there are many variables. Did I plant too early? Will the galinsoga come back and choke the beets? Will an untended garden get enought rain?

The fabric-covered areas are for tomatoes and winter squash, to be planted later.

In the photo above I am using my recently invented, ancient European peasant seed planter. The earth is too wet to crawl on, and continuous bending is not part of the program, hence this device.

Out and About...

...to points south.  

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To Crystal Lake for a visit with 'Trina, and to drop off a few things sent from Aunt Janet.

Lucky for us, Trina gave us a brand new, still-in-the-box rodent trap, with a mesh fine enough to hold gophers, or chipmunks, or whatever the heck has honeycombed our little patio garden.

Perhaps this trap will contribute to the reduction of our wildlife woes: last year raccoons, last month the groundhog, now chipmunks or gophers. (Of course, always the squirrels, thought lately they have been leaving the house alone and not overly destroying other things.)

But then what about rabbits? Well, yes, we have rabbits, and this year in spades. But we also have Pax. Tonight, after he finished his chewy treat, he obligingly dispatched at least one member of this spring's latest litter.

First Day of Summer...

...at least it feels that way.  High near 80. Grass growing, buds popping. And our daffodils, under the redbud tree, (not the photo below) wimping out. We have deduced the reason—gopher. Lots of gopher holes all around the patio garden, and a gopher actually sighted several times. Quite sure the gopher is gnawing the bulbs and sapping their strength.

The groundhog trap, previously used, has a wire mesh far too coarse for gophers, so we have ordered a finer trap.

Poison has been ruled out, although a "host of golden daffodils" badly damaged makes one think revenge would be sweet.

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Gasbag

Pontificating blow-hard.  Pompous ass. You name it. That's my U.S. House of Representatives rep. Jim Senselessbrenner, who today held a "town hall" at the fire hall in the little, run-down, fly-blown, poverty- stricken, has-been of a town called Helenville, about 15 minutes north of Whitewater.

 Less than a dozen "constituents" in attendance. All but one, including my neighbor Phil and me, in opposition. I guess it was a "listening session" if you figure those of us in the peanut gallery were the listeners. Our representative preferred to talk, using threadbare talking points, at high speed in a flat monotone, making sure he was never interrupted.

As he frequently said, "Who's next?"

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