Yesterday’s big south wind gave way in the night to a blow from the north.
Bedroom fan replaced about 3am with a blanket. Down to the marina before breakfast to check that the boat was riding okay.
Remains of the sandbox relegated to the dump burn pile.
Powerful south wind today so some high speeds attained on the Windrider.
This well after Irene’s morning departure for home. (And what a quick week it was.)
And then, with the season winding down, the sandbox under deconstruction. Septic pump out happening Wednesday, and following that, a new sandbox, like the Phoenix, will arise from the remnants.
Not much left of the pier.
And a little Windriding in no wind.
And potluck extravaganza.
Drawing down this particularly fine year.
And here is a video shot by Mimi, of about 35 young mergansers learning how to dive for food.
Musical practice for Saturday’s extravaganza.
Among a few other things.
And dinner.
Tonight roasted chicken with rosemary here. Last night Sartu di riso at Pinebox.
Nothing but haute cuisine around here.
Clear and cool, with wollybears
And the quiet has returned—just jays, nuthatches, crickets in the grass and a breeze in the treetops.
The marina closed, only one car at the coffeeshop and two at the falls.
Seemingly endless, but we did eventually arrive and were treated to a tasty light repast at Pinebox.
Did I mention the soup?
What a wonderful thing.
The new York Times ran a story recently ( https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/06/arts/music/5-minutes-that-will-make-you-love-classical-music.html ) in which musical people were asked to suggest a 5-minute bit of music that would captivate those unfortunates not familiar with classical music, and bring them into the fold.
Wow, is all I can say. While I didn't like all the selections, most blew me away. And then there were the comments, now up over 600. Almost all thanked the Times for such a great idea, such a relief in this time of darkness. And almost all suggested other things to listen to. Which I have been doing for a good part of this day. It's quite a musical education, and I've only just begun.
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It's also helpful to consider what Nietzsche said regarding learning to love music:
"One must learn to love — This is what happens to us in music: First one has to learn to hear a figure and melody at all, to detect and distinguish it, to isolate it and delimit it as a separate life. Then it requires some exertion and good will to tolerate it in spite of its strangeness, to be patient with its appearance and expression, and kindhearted about its oddity. Finally there comes a moment when we are used to it, when we wait for it, when we sense that we should miss it if it were missing; and now it continues to compel and enchant us relentlessly until we have become its humble and enraptured lovers who desire nothing better from the world than it and only it. But that is what happens to us not only in music. That is how we have learned to love all things that we now love. In the end we are always rewarded for our good will, our patience, fairmindedness, and gentleness with what is strange; gradually, it sheds its veil and turns out to be a new and indescribable beauty. That is its thanks for our hospitality. Even those who love themselves will have learned it in this way; for there is no other way. Love, too, has to be learned."
...at the Nies residence in Oconomowoc.
The potted rosemary has spent the summer under the spreading backyard apple tree. Apparently it has found the location congenial, though I think it was too shaded. This particular plant is about four years old, I believe, and, of course, spends the winter indoors. Anyone need a bit of rosemary?
"These are extreme times; these are dangerous times." —Barack Obama at the University of Illinois, 9/7/2018.
With the elections coming up, these are important words, and we will need to vote as if our lives depend on it. They do.
Fox Point Bike Ride...
...while Sue was away taking care of responsibilities.
An excess of moisture.
Whitewater Creek this morning before today's deluge.
Bumper apple crop. Quite a few tomatoes, too.
Shopping trip to Fort after my 1 P.M. haircut treacherous with visibility down to zero and road runnels throwing the car all about. Bark and Rock rivers well out of their banks. Shopping trip necessary, though, because prior to that, with no food in the house, I was dependent on apples and tomatoes for sustenance.
Global warming is rapidly giving us a different world. (I liked the old one.)
Too hot and humid. Impossible to sit absolutely still in the shade without melting.
Traditional dog stop at Manistique
Whitewater susans and hosta under the redbud.
Twelve hours and fifteen minutes, with rain all the way to Manistique, and then occasional downpours coming south through Wisconsin.
...which is the reason why the new green boat went faster than the white boat and the yellow boat.
Still, a great day of sailing, including a trip out around Gooseberry.
Busy day messing around with boats.
The Caves are here.
Asclepias, that is.
And another sign of the advancing season, the bottle gentian. This year an entirely new cluster over by Morgan’s Meadow.
Can never have too many gentians.
Excursion, exploration, and then delectable dinner at the Inn with J&ME and Murray & Elaine.
