Excellent variety of weather. A little rain, dramatic clouds, strong wind, and now surprising cool.
Lunch with Therese at the former Gordon Lodge in Gore Bay. Partially renovated, and now called something like "The Water's Edge." The food was o k , but in the hour and a half we were there we were the only customers. On the up side, we had coffee on the lawn with a good view of the penultimate leg of this year's North Channel race.
Tamiasciurus hudsonicus, that is.
Yesterday one came through the (loose) screen onto the porch. Today these two, above, seemed to follow me around. I wonder if the drought has reduced the food supply—I don't see much in the way of cones or cedar seeds. Perhaps they just want someone to write a story about them.
Take a look at the feet in the top photo—a most capable appendage.
Blowing like stink from the West. Marina packed tight.
Nighttime storm, plus brief morning cloudburst. Twenty-five gallons in Geode alone. Fire ban still in effect, but the drought, I think, has been broken.
Pax is totally confabulated. A rough night last night, Mimi away, Pinebox offering succor and the world's tastiest kibble, and, all day, the immanent threat of just a bit more precip. He is away visiting as I speak.
The stack still stands, in spite of sturm und drang.
BLTs tonight with homegrown Ts and a side of beans.
Last night's storm was a slow mover. Pax sensed it when all I could hear was absolute silence, and all I could see out the window was a fine bright moon. Maybe half an hour later I hard the first faint rumble. Maybe half an hour later, the first sweep of wind blowing away the calm. And then, well after that, the first tentative rain.
All that time I was pretty sure that the rain part of the storm would fizzle out or go elsewhere—but it didn't, and when the rain came down it did so enthusiastically and for quite a long time.
Hundreds of gulls flying up and down the shore, hungry for shadflies. The hatch was late this year, and there was some concern the population is down, but this morning the gulls seemed to think all was well. While shadflies can be annoying to non-gulls, their presence indicates healthy water.
Sue departed for Wisconsin just as the gulls had enough light to hunt—and drove all the way to Milwaukee in one stretch, solo.
It is a bit addictive. Can't be in a rush; have to use the Zen mind and let the rocks stack themselves. Always amazing when it works.
Delicious meatloaf at the Pinebox.
...this morning, and even scarier, yesterday morning. Yesterday, shortly after reveille,
it was busy on the Lane. Everyone was up—sniffing—with smoke definitely in the air. Neighbor Al called the fire department, and almost immediately the siren sounded. I grabbed my bike heading down towards the Woods' place, and as I was getting close, a jeep, containing a volunteer firefighter, came roaring up behind. The two of us got down to Woods' beach and stood sniffing and staring into the fog...but nothing, no fire or flame. Apparently other firefighters scrambled too—to Maple Point and out to the Grandor/West Bay side of things. But nothing, nowhere. Turns out the smoke was/is coming from the big fire north-east of here, up on the French River and near Killarney.
We had clouds and pretend rain most of the day today, and there is hope that the afflicted area got real rain. Still, it's scary, and everyone here is glad of the fire department's rapid response. We are hoping for no smoke tomorrow, and some real rain later in the week, but we remain cognizant of the fact that breaking the back of a drought is not easy.
The barkentine above, a training ship for young people, smashed into the dock this morning, breaking the big iron casting around the bowsprit that tensions the dolphin striker. Took a big chunk out of the dock too. Maybe a little more training is in order, for someone?
We’ve got Digger wit his unmuffled cigarette boat, a variety of jet skis operating out of the more recent nouveau riche cottages south on the Lane, and the thumping bass of a rock band “tuning up” over at the marina. Plug your ears, it’s Summer Fest in Kagawong.
This little private yacht may like being part of the noisy village. Either that or they made a bad mistake coming here when they did.
How could I fail to mention that IT RAINED last night, A light rain, a gentle rain, but rain, and for maybe two hours. I stayed up the whole time listening to the sound patterns on the metal roof. Rain, for those who don't have metal roofs, is not a steady, uniform phenomenon, no—instead, the intensity fluctuates by the second. So, for two or more hours I listened—first for the little whispers, and then the brush strokes on a snare drum, and then, but no, never the tympani—always saying, "yes, come on, yes, come on, you can do it," afraid to move in case I might jinx what was happening, and occasionally saying, "thanks rain, thanks...even this little bit is better than nothing."
Surf rolling in. Big waves, but unable to reach the pier, which, in appreciation of previous destruction, has been installed in an elevated position. Usually, an east wind brings weather, so we can only hope. At least we have clouds.
Given the number cottages now occupied along the Lane, not to mention the hot sun and high heat, we have been walking the upper bluff trail that parallels Serendipity, where shade is plentiful and the temperature cooler. One has to adapt, or a least try to.
Today, along with instrument practice, the summer regimen decided upon in the winter months was actually implemented. Paddle, pedal, row, swim. Morning kayak into the waves. Afternoon ride to the marina. Good long row in Geode. And then a brief swim after the sweaty ride back.
The rowing part was inspired by Guido Brunetti, the main character in Donna Leon's books. In the book I'm reading now, Earthly Remains, Commissario Brunetti takes a needed two week leave of absence from the Venice police force and spends 6 hours a day during that time rowing around the laguna..
...afternoon sailing.
Gore Bay
With the Lloyds
Coffee with Therese in Gore Bay, to discuss and solve all the Islands problems. Then a lively afternoon sail with the Lloyds. The marina is full up (mostly with big power boats).
... is the recommended service life of the UV bulb integral to our water system. Yesterday it let me know that the jig was up, so today I changed the lamp. Haven't yet quite calculated when the next replacement will be, but I have already ordered a replacement bulb, using the same philosophy as that used by experienced gas grillers who always have a backup tank.
Tower of power. Beans on the menu tonight—thanks, of course, to irrigation.
...unless you like rain.
Breezy, coolish, dry—perfect for a long walk, motorcycle off-roading, and basic chilling out.
Everyone in this house has become obsessed with the crime/detective/mystery books by Donna Leon, which, of course, take place in Italy. (Well, Pax is only faintly interested.)
"Where the telescope ends, the microscope begins. Which of the two has the grander view?"
—Victor Hugo
Hiding from the sun and heat...at least from from eleven to four.
Pax and I walked the upper bluff trail (from Donna and Al's to Price's, up the bluff from Serendipity), and that was fine because of partial shade, but on the way back, on the road, it was hot; and Pax very much wanted to go down every driveway straight to the lake. I felt the same, but we both made it back to our driveway before heading down hill and jumping into the water.
Meanwhile, it was decided to take the Pinebox guests for a sail about 4:30, just about the time weather forecasters issued a thunderstorm and squall warning. Radar showed some red blobs moving across Manitoulin, but knowing that that was fake news—and promising to eat my hat if it rained at all—we went for a pleasant sail anyway. While we were out, the wind switched from south to northwest. In summary, the day was sunny, hot, and dry. Blowing hard from the NW now.
If I wanted sunny, hot, and dry, I'd live in Arizona.
BTW, the rock stack erected on July 5 is still standing. Curious to see how long the one pictured above holds up. I'm coming to find that stacking rocks is almost as much fun as practising a musical instrument.
Annual meeting.
Canola, eh?
Executive team.
Actually more of a neighborhood association.
Most important item on this year’s agenda, as in years past, the potluck.
...followed by hot and dry.
Quick trip to Mindemoya for dog food. Also a little swimming and a little musical instrument practice. Mixed grill at Pinebox.
Sailing and dinner with Professor and Mrs. Shorthouse...he a retired entomologist... and member of the Manitoulin Great Lakes Islands Coalition team.
Never sailing before, but enthusiastic and delighted.
Lots and lots of talk before, during, and after dinner, and not always easy to get a word in edgewise.
Rain this morning. Yes, actual rain. Not much of course, and not for long, but enough to knock down the dust and to somewhat reduce the fire risk. No real dent, however, in the drought.
I bypassed the transmission safety lockout switch this afternoon before our sail, and I think I can say that the engine now starts every time.
...and just a hint of something resembling rain.
Heliotrope on the bay for her first sail in many moons. She’s a boat that wants to move, and with a bit of a breeze she steps right out.
Engine starting still not perfect.
Sunny, hot, and dry.
Great Mexican dinner at Pinenox, complete with handfuls of homegrown cilantro.
Norm replacing the starter motor...virtually impossible in the tight space.
Sudbury, that is. To pick up the repaired Heliotrope starter motor. Almost every place in Sudbury that needs to be flat (for example the Walmart store and parking lot, just to the right in the photos below), has had to be drilled and blasted level. But then, Sudbury is a mining town. We won't mention the fact that that the new library has had to be shored up to counter-balance a strong list to port.
Sunny, hot, and dry.
Karen and Earl, Bob and Wendy, Joan, Elaine and Murray, Mary Ellen and John, Sue and me.
Sunny, hot, and dry.
Perfect weather (assuming you like dry). Sunny and warm, but with a mighty south wind.
The lower deck received a refreshing power wash (not by me) and is no longer slippery when wet (as if such a thing could ever occur). Very high speed Windrider sail in the afternoon—tearing along in heavy gusts, but always in control.
That floats on high o'r vales and hills... Except there weren't any clouds, apart from a few contrails. The drought continues.
All docked out, and it is pretty deep at the far end
We did make a run to Mindemoya for the annual hazardous waste disposal where we had to queue up in a long line of vehicles being guided to the collection point. Perhaps half an hour, or more, until we were able to unload a substantial collection of old paint.
This was one queue I didn't mind being stuck in. Glad there are so many who care about the Island.