Road Committee

Beautiful, calm morning followed by hard labor. 

Sue raked out the trench on the bluff side of the lane, pretty much from Kerry’s to Tysons, and then I re-dug and deepened it, clanking away trough rocks and roots. This because of one large washout right about our driveway, which itself had to be filled, requiring five long and heavy wheelbarrow trips from the gravel pile. I also dug out and re-potted the coreopsis and dragged them down to the front deck. Meanwhile Sue began prepping dinner.

Today, the road committee, (Murray, Bob, and Don) walked the Lane to assess damage and plan this year’s work. Later, they, along with Elaine, Wendy, and Joan stopped in for dinner—and lots of gossip.

Cloudless, windless day.

Morning Rain, Afternoon Sun, Evening Wind

Kagawong River not flooded but very lively.

The Trope getting antsy for a wet bottom.  

Nice morning rain—slowing things down, and requiring half a chapter or so in two different books, and, of course, several second cups of coffee. Then, beautiful, sunny, and warm. Then, about 4 in the p.m. a tempestuous west wind (making us thankful to be tucked under the bluff) and rapidly falling temperatures.

In the interval between rain and sun, installed a new upstairs toilet to replace last year's replacement (installed because previous good toilet cracked due to incompetent winterizing). Needed to replace the replacement because the replacement was designed for Munchkins or Hobbits or other diminutive creatures, with a seat opening about the size of a grapefruit sliced sideways, and a height off the floor of one of those stubby, plastic grade-school rulers. The replaced replacement will soon be on prominent display at the Kagawong mall.

This new toilet is much more forgiving. The only problem is that I failed to sufficiently secure the tank to the bowl. Sue was the first to notice a surprising new puddle in the downstairs powder-room, and, then. thinking back, she remembered the time Maddie missed while using the upstairs toity and how the result ended up making a damp spot exactly in the same place as the new puddle. Fortunately, a little judicious wiggling and tightening, and all became dry. And, now, we have a new, and appropriately commodious, commode.

To Gore Bay in the afternoon to place the new, self-tailing winches up in Heliotrope's cockpit so that Todd  (the CYC maintenance guru) can replace the old ones. Also, got in Pax's favorite along-shore walk, and then some more grocery shopping (catchup, mayo, mustard, etc. not taking too well to winter temperatures when left behind in a closed-down cottage).

Saw four female mergansers hunting as a pack, back and forth, out in front. Also five white-suited males hanging around, doing something. Then a flock, of perhaps a dozen small birds working their way south to north, up in the highest tree-tops. Gray undersides, white throat, yellow upper parts or wing bands, black head with white stripe (I think), slightly forked tail. Warbler? If so, which?

Buds are breaking in the tops of the poplars, and I expect there will soon be a pale greening up on the bluff all around the bay.

It seems we might have been working too much, or at least I have been working too carelessly. I have worn my thumb down to the point that the iPhone no longer recognizes my fingerprint. 

Lastly, the internet connection here, while fine, is slower than what I am used to. So doing a blog, especially with photos, takes time. What this means is that my current modus operandi consists of sending some stuff up and then going to do something else while it tries to do so, coming back later to finish. All of which means the final blog might not get finalized until well after dark.

Let's Go Swimming

At least some people don't mind the current  water temperature.  

Pax at Sandy Beach

Beaches have been cut well back.  

And then there's the  path through the forest, which is always fun to walk.

Summery day.  Apparently we arrived at exactly the same time as the good weather.

Everything has been unpacked and stowed, the decks swept, and the porch opened up. So we are feeling quite settled in. Cocktails on the porch, followed by a delicious roast chicken dinner. Next up, a dog walk, and then a test to see if the TV and Netflix still work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What makes a place special is the way it buries itself inside the heart, not whether it's flat or rugged, rich or austere, wet or arid, gentle or harsh, warm or cold, wild or tame. Every place, like every person, is elevated by the love and  respect shown toward it, and by the way in which its bounty is received.

       —Richard Nelson, The Island Within 

Through The Time Warp

It is a bit odd to have two different lives--not at all  unpleasant, but conducive to noticing the passage of time.

Now we are our summer selves. And it too is nice. 

Blind River, our regular stop, and Pax favorite.

Little Current. No ice, and no boats, except for the tour boat, and those high and dry at Boyles'.

The driveway is dry. Not washed out. No big streams coursing downward.

The water is up, not not as high as when we departed in October.

Pine Box is perfectly fine box.

The kayaks are ready to hit the water. And, the picnic table, while needing paint, worked well as a place for for lunch today.

Early departure from St. Ignace. Gas and McDs breakfast at Sault Ste Marie.  The straits choked with ice, although apparently some freighters are getting through. Easy passage through customs (only car on the bridge going our way) in spite of all the contraband. Stop at Blind River. Stop at Little Current for groceries. Stop at the Kagawong marina for a look-see and dog run, (it was Green Day in Kagawong, so some people around, and a number of filled garbage bags. And then home (to home number two).

Sunny and warm. Working in t-shirts. Used John's chest waders to drag the waterline out (to within an inch of the top of the waders [and the water was cold](. Then started using the Guzzler to pull water up through the 100 foot water line to the jet pump. For the second time in three years the Guzzler broke. After a few moments of panic I remembered that John had a pump, and I was able to find it, and then swap out the inlet fitting with the one that works on our set-up. John's Guzzler guzzled, and within 10 minutes water was drawn up to the jet, which worked without any complaint. Then it was all about reconnecting the plumbing in the house. I am pleased to report that we now have hot and cold running water to all the sinks, toilets, showers, and washing machines.

Little current harbor was clear, but everything west of the narrows, through Honora Bay, to West Bay was solid ice. So some anticipation about Mudge Bay, but coming down the big hill into the lower village, nothing but brilliant blue water, with just of fringe of ice way out by Clipperton.

Everything good here on Serendipity Lane, both at 196 and 184. But surprisingly dry. The swales are damp but not flooded, and the rivulets are trickling rather than gushing. The big water is up, but not as high as when we left in the fall. It typically rises quite a bit through May, but we shall see.

A pair of mergansers have already claimed the waterfront, he in his resplendent white wardrobe. Poor things are having to make do, however, with rocks rather than boardwalk. 

We had all the windows open, letting the warm air in to chase winter's accumulated chill. Now we have a blazing fire in the stove. Although at first we didn't think we would need one, it turns out  we did, and it is ever so nice.

And, we are back in the land of quiet. The only sounds all afternoon and evening wind, waves, and wildlife.

No Ice In St. Ig

Far different from last year. Last year cold, fog, and ice. This year sun and waves. Did see a pile of ice on a reef off Brevort.  

Also saw a sturgeon ambling along the shore of the Menominee River where Pax stopped for a ramble, but I (not Pax) was too slow to capture it on film. 

Getting Ready For The Road

Mostly packed and loaded for morning departure—destination St. Ignace. It is better to arrive at the cottage the first time after winter absence in the daylight, for many reasons, thus a two-stage trip.

To Oconomowoc with a stop at Riverknoll, and then to Victoria Lane and a "nice ham dinner" in honor of Ellie's real birthday. The Mean Streak left with Bri, who will take it in for the service that I was unable to get scheduled (and then possibly ride it a bit once his is sold).

By Saturday evening the goal is: cottage opened up, water line in with hot and cold water running, everything stowed, and a fire in the stove. Then it's on to projects and making sure the place is ready for visitors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I Strolled Across An Open Field

I strolled across
An open field;
The sun was out;
Heat was happy.

This way! This way!
The wren's throat shimmered,
Either to other,
The blossoms sang.

The stones sang,
The little ones did,
And flowers jumped
Like small goats.

A ragged fringe
Of daisies waved;
I wasn't alone
In a grove of apples.

Far in the wood
A nestling sighed;
The dew loosened
Its morning smells.

I came where the river
Ran over stones:
My ears knew
An early joy.

And all the waters
Of all the streams
Sang in my veins
That summer day.

          —Theodore Roethke

Spring Training

Both Katy and Will had multiple home runs, in our fancy new Whitewater ball-field (in spite of the fact that we didn't bring either ball or bat). They also climbed, slid, and rode bikes all over the park. And, as we were about to leave, a few light showers moved in...

...creating rainbows. Holding umbrellas, the kids helped me plant two new apple whips, a Macintosh and a Gala. Four or five autumns from now we should be tasting fruit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE CAVE

 Sometimes when the boy was troubled he would go
         To a little cave of stone above the brook
And build a fire just big enough to glow
         Upon the ledge outside, then sit and look.
Below him was the winding silver trail
         Of water from the upland pasture springs,
And meadows where he heard the calling quail;
         Before him was the sky, and passing wings.

 The tang of willow twigs he lighted there,
       Fragrance of meadows breathing slow and deep,
The cave's own musky coolness on the air,
      The scent of sunlight... all were his to keep.
We had such places — cave or tree or hill...
         And we are lucky if we keep them still.

                    —Glenn W. Dresbach

To Look at Any Thing

Silver serviceberry buds with snowy blossoms. Pink apple blossoms, pink bleeding hearts. Magenta red-bud blossoms. Lipstick red tulips crowding out fading yellow daffodils. Violet violets.

We have seen Wisconsin spring this spring. No peonies or day-lilies, nothing but green on lilacs, no sign of bud-break on the locust tree. But, still, quite extravagant enough. And we will see what things look like in June.

So, spring in Eureka Springs, Rockport, Estes Park, and Whitewater. And, in a few days, the very beginning of spring on Manitoulin. Five springs does not seem at all like too many.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TO LOOK AT ANY THING

To look at any thing,
If you would know that thing,
You must look at it long:
To look at this green and say
'I have seen spring in these
Woods,'  will not do — you must
Be the thing you see:
You must be the dark snakes of
Stems and ferny plumes of leaves,
You must enter in
To the small silences between
The leaves,
You must take your time
And touch the very peace
They issue from.

 JOHN MOFFITT

Unnatural Garden

The garden has been tilled (although still a bit too wet) and then landscape fabric overlaid and clamped down with rocks and pavers. And this is how it will be for the next two years, until noxious weed succumbs. Of course, this makes growing beets difficult, if not impossible. So for next fall's picking we will be using a crop grown by a local farmer Abby has identified. Actually, some beets grown by this farmer were included in last fall's batch—because noxious weed necessitated pulling our entire first planting.

This year the Whitewater garden will be limited to tomatoes (just a few) and winter squash, primarily Oregon Homestead Sweet Meat. I'm hoping for enough of these delicious squash to last from Halloween until Memorial Day.

The Kagawong garden, on the other hand, is going to be much more experimental. Now that it is fenced and covered (with bird netting) there should be little predation. And, for the first month or so, it will be wrapped in plastic, making it a mini-greenhouse. I'm hoping to grow lots of stuff way earlier than possible.

Good buds. And here is a lady beetle snuggled into a cluster swamp white oak buds.

Wacky Wabbit

The burned prairie is greening and growing.

Last night, I flipped on the back-yard flood-lights and let Pax out for his pre-bedtime last chance. We were standing on the patio, thinking about it, when we heard a squealing noise. Then a large rabbit came out of the brush and ran right at us. I waved my hands and shouted, "stupid rabbit," because any rabbit that comes running right at Pax is a stupid rabbit. At the last minute it wised up and veered off across Vi's back yard, but with Pax nipping at its pompon. Eventually, some time later, Pax came back and rejoined me on the patio. And then we heard the squealing once again. And then, once again, Pax took off.  A few minutes later he returned with a smallish rabbit in his mouth.

Too many rabbits for one night, is what I think. It took some creative psychology and a little insistence on my part  to get Pax to give up his new toy and come back inside, but eventually he did. He is such a good dog, but I have to admit that his dreams during this afternoon's nap seemed especially animated.  I imagine he was still in the back yard last night..

Cut the grass today (or as Unkie would say people in the old country say)  "mowed de lawn" for the first time in in this fine year. The grass didn't really, really need mowing, and the lawn service is shecduled to begin in a week, but it felt good to run the mower, which started not the 5th pull.   The result is nice. Not wild, which is what I think should be the ultimate right choice, but civilized, and neat, which, embarrassingly, looks good to me. I think it all harks back to our ancestry in Africa, and when we moved out of the forest onto the savanna, and learned to love short grass tall under trees.