And, although a mono-hull dingy can be a bit tippy, and can capsize (unlike a trimaran), Geode felt good to be sailing agin—after how many years? With the right wind, this boat could be a very fine trainer.
Considerable cloudiness and afternoon thunder, but nothing much in the way of rain.
(Thanks to Sue for the photos.)
Plus rescue at sea.
Crowds at the beach, at the marina, at the farmer's market, and at the library book sale. The good weather has brought everyone out.
To get away from it all, and to take advantage of a strong south wind, we decided to go for a sail on the Windrider. Once out of the harbor we noticed that a rental 10' Tango sailboat appeared to be in trouble—rapidly being blown down wind and out to sea. Getting a line to him and getting things squared away for a tow took a bit of doing but proved to be good practice. The rescued party expressed much gratitude once back at the beach, and the boat rental agent learned the importance of a chase boat (we hope).
And, actually, first swim.
Geode all spiffed up, thanks to Sue, and looking very good for her age.
Sunny and warm. Lots of activity, on this the last day of the big Canada Day weekend.
(BTW, minimal fireworks all weekend—possibly because the Tetrazzinis have been conspicuously absent?) Pax and I grateful.
Talking with Bruce, the marina manager this morning, he said that yesterday afternoon, when the sun finally came out about 4, after multiple cameo appearances, he sold 40 ice creams in the space of an hour and a half. Lots of pent up demand, apparently.
Morning bike ride to the marina and then a motor back on Geode which needed cleaning and a few repairs. (A few flat rocks brought along as ballast; you can never have too many flat rocks even if you don't need ballast.) Evening hors d'oeuvres on the lower deck, first time this year. In the photo above, clockwise from extreme left: Purvis whitefish dip, JBN's world famous green toast (using home grown chives and garlic scapes), medium spicy salsa, Ma Bensch pickled herring (imported from Wisconsin), and the Heliotrope world renowned canapé consisting of a Triscuit covered with liverwurst, an onion fragment, and hot mustard. What flavors!
Almost equalling the view.
Lots of people around for the big weekend but also lots of weather. Whenever the rain would stop (which it occasionally did) everyone would come out of hiding and onto jet skis, fishing boats, ATV, and bicycles; also onto beaches and footpaths, docks, and boardwalks. Then the next storm, and all would vanish. And then the sun would emerge again...
So much water. Necessary to raise the pier. No beach left for boat storage. Tyson's creek running full.
Also of note: The Pinebox contingent arrived last evening, and this morning, between storms, the water line was installed and brought up to operational status.
Be Not Impatient (a sonnet)
By JBN
Let me admit of yearning for the new,
Impatient with the now, and tired of then.
Things yet to come o’r filling every view—
Obsessed with moving on, and knowing when.
When twelve, at last, sixteen the perfect age,
And when sixteen, all thoughts for twenty-one.
Long school days spent so bored and hot for change—
A dream of work, if college ever done.
Oh, when, at last, to lead a lass to bed?
That job for which I’d be the perfect hire—
And when some children, should I ever wed?
How hard the wait until time to retire!
Yet, when I look beyond tomorrow’s door
There’s one event I’m not impatient for.
...to Harbor Island to anchor, have lunch, and take a nap. What was supposed to be, and what started out as, a mostly sunny, warmish, light-wind day...turned out to be a mostly cloudy, chilly, very windy day. (Twenty-plus knots out in the channel.) But, however, all in all, good practice and good fun—if you like that sort of thing.
Only problem—with water so high Pax and I had trouble finding a place to go ashore. What used to be the patio and front yard of the old lodge is now a tangle of poison sumac and poison ivy, and anything resembling a beach is under water. We did see a loon, a pair of gold finches, nuthatches, crows, and a hawk, along with gulls, and terns. So, if nothing else, it's a good place to be a bird.
ALSO: Happy Canada Day, and happy sesquicentennial—all you canuck hosers.
...and considerable wildlife.
Eight legs.
No legs.
Heavy runoff after yesterday's rain. Mostly cloudy and humid, making work a sweaty affair. To Gore Bay in the morning for the farmer's market (very limited), and to Burt Farm (good meat selection). Conditions are not favorable for farmers—too much moisture and not enough sun—and our garden here is suffering from the same state of affairs.
...or more, scooped by hand, quart by quart, from Geode. In other words, a lot of rain from early morning until about noon. By late afternoon, sunny and steamy; and now, faint rumbles from afar, sending Pax to his hidey-hole.
How many eons did it take to break bedrock and bolulders down to coarse sand?
The high water has re-arranged area beaches‚which are actually undergoing constant change. Now in most places the fine, hard sand has been overlaid with coarser stuff.
UPDATE: Pax was right. Big Thunderstorm. Huge rain, perhaps the heaviest I've ever seen here.
Oh, Climate Change, let me count the ways... Feeling pretty good that we are elevated and have state of the art drainage.
Steak ala pluie.
of the Windrider (which doesn't really have one). Blustery day with wind from the south-east, giving us a lively first ride of the season. Storms, reportedly, in the offing.
Forenoon spend shoveling gravel, again, but this time for Bob Ellen who is working to get his place ready for visitors.
Some like to shovel, as they say, and that some seems to include the two of us. (Bob and Wendy spent several hot, dripping days over here, long ago, helping us bend rebar prior to the pouring of the foundation, we must remember.)
Last night we watched a memorable, and if you like poetry, unforgettable film called Paterson. It's about a bus driver who writes poetry, and it is set, of course, in Paterson, NJ., which is the locale of William Carlos Williams' epic poem known as Paterson. (Nota bene: Williams is, in a way, a subtle character in the film.)
Also, I might refer any interested parties to a previous post which featured The Red Wheelbarrow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold
Watchin the clouds roll by...
Our pier fully operational, along with almost everything else on the premises. Ready or not for summer, which starts, officially, with Canada Day (this year #150). Kagawong dock open for business, beaches plowed, chuck wagon emitting smoke, etcetera, and so on. Now, about the weather...
Update to yesterday's blog—the shrub mentioned is Kolkwitzia amabilis.
Work a little, take a break. Work a little, take a break. A parade of little weather cells moving from south-east to north-west, occasionally passing overhead and dropping five to ten minutes of rain on those trying to work below (and on unappreaciative dogs).
A shrub I have yet to identify, right at Donna and Al's driveway and the Lane. To me, it looks adapted for hummingbirds, quite a few of which have been observed recently. What is this plant?
A note on slugs:
There are many. Any walk down the Lane requires observant stepping if the walker wishes to avoid crushing any number of these shell-less creatures. And, I surmise, the slugs we see along the Lane, on the sharp gravel, are just the misguided ones. Why would a soft and slimy creature want to crawl across gravel? Also of interest is the slime—left behind it's creator, it glistens and seems to be iridescent.
These slugs have what some people call antennae—those prongs sticking out of the foreparts. Some of those protrusions have eyes, while others, we are quite sure, have noses.
The multitude of slugs on the Lane appear to have very keen senses, either olfactory or ocular. Recently I found a still meaty deer bone that was crawling with dozens of the creatures, and yesterday I rode by a bit of real dog vomit (not the fake fungus ) crawling with even more. Although they never seem to move, these slugs can either see or smell (or both), and they quickly and invariably find the protein.
Photos of the deer bones and dog vomit have not been posted in the interest of decorum.
Weather too variable for any kind of planned activity.
Moderate to heavy rain from pre-dawn to about 10. Perfect for: 1) sleeping in; 2) leisurely coffee; 3) reading the Sunday paper; 4) world famous waffles; 5) all of the above; 6) moving to Phoenix. Seeing as it was chilly and damp, a fire seemed like a good idea, and for the most part it was.
When the rain stopped, the dog (with companion) walked the Lane to Thompson's, and then the woods trail back. After that an attempt was made at assembling the extra section of pier needed to accomodate high water. The moment pier work commenced, the sun shone forth in all its majesty, and humidity blew the top off the psychrometer. Once that project was abandoned due to overheating a cool wind came up, along with clouds, and some drizzle.
The evening brought clouds, a bit of rain, sun, a flat calm, and a chilly NW breeze.
So much for the plan to go for a a sail. On the up side, Sue got quite a bit of sewing done.
Awakened by sunlight, and lovely from then on. West wind, pleasing temperatures. Clouds enough to add interest, but no more.
The lean-to is 99% complete and fully operational. Great place to store unsightly stuff, nice workspace (especially when raining), perfect place for parked bikes.
A pair of golden crowned kinglets accompanied Pax and me on our morning walk down the Lane. They were not shy, and this is the first time I've ever had up close acquaintance. Remarkable creatures, with songs and calls almost beyond the range of human ears.
Part of the day spent assembling the components for another dock section. Why? High water. Way, way, up. And yesterday we had something like a seiche that washed a number of shoreline items away including a section of Pinebox pier (reported missing by Al, and retrieved by Sue in the Susie Pea). I even had to slash back existing underbrush to be able to walk along the shoreline trail from Tyson's to here.
The beet seed I planted about a week ago in the Kagawong garden have not yet sprouted, in spite of ample water. Am I impatient, or is the seed bad? On the upside, a big leopard frog has been sitting over them for the past 3 days, so I'm rather sure that at least no insects have been bothering them.
Dark, dank, and drippy from dawn (if you could find it) until noon; then sunny and hot for an hour or so; then a fresh breeze from the west cooling things down and chasing the humidity away.
To Manitowaning for a bicycle tire inner-tube. Then home by way of Little Current. Lunch at Elliott's (up the hill on 6), which has been recently purchased by a young lady well trained in food. Interesting and delicious menu. This place is going to give Anchor Inn a run for its money.
It was so warm when we returned from our travels that wading into chilly Mudge Bay water to install 3 more sections of pier felt rather good.
Tramp steamer from Nassau visiting Little Current. Not sure how it got through the swing bridge.
Heavy clouds. Occasional light rain. Followed by dinner time thunderstorms. Sewing and lean-to work.
C D ghoti?
...the year's longest day. Up early. Weed-whacking and road work. Five sections of pier. Visit with Bob Ellen. Cocktail cruise. Supper. Dog walk. And still sunset looks to be hours away.
Rather nice to have almost limitless light (15 hours and 45 minutes.)
Water is way up. Need an extension.
Sue at the helm.
Great towering puffballs, floating lazily by, and then unloading countless tons of water over a very limited area. Mostly sunny and nice, with two cloudbursts (in this particular area).
Today's plan focused primarily on boating, but other chores and projects somehow intervened, and no boats were boated. One can avoid going to the dump only so long.
From Gore Bay to Kagawong. Mark as crew again. Jib and mizzen, with a strong south-west wind. Big rollers out in the Channel, maybe 5 feet. Strong gusts coming down Mudge Bay.
A new experience for Mark who seeks every opportunity to learn to sail. We can just hope that various bouts of heaving over the rail will not dampen his enthusiasm.
Three or more hours of steady, moderate rain in the early morning hours.
I know because, for some reason, Pax came in to hide between bunks in my room instead of staying in Mimi's room where he always gets precipitation support. Kept me awake, he did, which is why I am glad Sue normally deals with his phobia.
A metal roof is a marvelous rain gauge (even if it disturbs Pax). Most rains, according to this gauge, are infinitely variable—the pitch, caused by drops on steel with a sound like a xylophone or marimba, is never steady; it changes by the second. But this morning's three-or-more-hour rain never varied by a wavelength. One invarying drum roll.
Then in late morning...a cloudburst, filling the swales and causing erosion on the driveway. And, thus, all my worst drought worries have been banished.
In celebration, to Mum's (better than Dad's auto sales, don't you know), and then to JD greenhouse for four coreopsis for the front deck, as per usual.
Now, for dinner—buttered beets, Sue's potato salad, and Burt Farm smokies.
Holy paterfamilias! is all I can say.