I love to wake up with the morning sun streaming through my bedroom window at our cottage.
It calls me . . .
Come to the lake.
I love to wake up with the morning sun streaming through my bedroom window at our cottage.
It calls me . . .
Come to the lake.
In a couple of hours, we'll be packing up and heading home. I'm beginning to switch gears . . . starting to think about what's waiting for me at home instead of what I'm going to read down on the dock this afternoon. Bittersweet, but I'll be back in a couple of weeks.
The dogs make the transition between "home" and "lake" without much trouble. Jenny can always sense that we're "on the move" and she gets a little clingy when we're packing. JoJo is clueless about all that, but she still has trouble in the car and needs to take carsick meds. They much prefer being "settled" in one location or the other, but they pretty much roll with it all.
Here are three things they love to do up north that they are not able to do back home:
1 -- Fish
Jenny loves to watch the fish -- either in the water on her own or when she goes fishing with Tom on the lake. She pays close attention to the water at all times, and is very aware of the sound fish make as they rise in the water. When she fishes with Tom, she can tell if he's caught one by watching his line. She is intrigued with all things fish-related.
2 - Swim
JoJo much prefers swimming to fishing. (In fact, I don't think she's ever noticed that there ARE fish in the lake.) Jenny used to swim a lot more, but she is getting old now and tires quickly. JoJo, on the other hand, swims like a little motorboat and loves to retrieve whatever we throw for her in the water.
3 -- Boat
Both dogs LOVE to ride in the pontoon. They love sniffing the air and feeling the lake breeze as we cruise around the lake. They get very excited when they see loons on the water or turtles sunning themselves on docks -- and they especially like to greet other lake-dogs that they may see on land or in other boats (singing the song of their people, y'know . . . as dogs do).
We all have a great time up north. . . dog and human alike.
Be sure to hop over to Carole's today to read other Three on Thursday posts. And be sure to wish her and Dale a very happy anniversary while you're there!
Also -- thanks for all your good wishes on the Ravelry thing. Let me tell you . . . that was a big surprise!
. . . look like what the heck!
Despite the fact that I have much to do at home.
And despite the fact that we have a big party coming up in less than 2 weeks.
And despite the fact that it rained all weekend long -- so hard that I couldn't work in the garden.
And despite the fact that the party . . . is going to be IN my garden in less than 2 weeks.
I am still heading north for the week.
Because summer is sweet.
But summer is short.
What the heck.
I share my anticipation and excitement at returning to our cottage "up north" for the summer season with you each year. And I show you photos of our little lake . . . and cozy bonfires . . . and happy dogs swimming. And it all looks wonderful.
And it is all of that.
But there is . . . an underbelly, too. Y'know? The parts I don't share. (Because it's not all fun and games up here.) (At least, not all the time.)
Here's a dose of Up North Reality for you, Three-on-Thursday syle:
1 -- It's a house. A second house. That we own. And must maintain. So while we may be dealing with . . . say, a broken air conditioner at House #1, we are also dealing with things . . . say, a roof that needs replacing (or severe woodpecker damage to the cedar siding) at House #2.
In other words, we don't get a vacation from home maintenance just because we go "up north" for the season. In fact, it doubles.
2 -- It feels like going on vacation. But we are not on vacation. Because there are chores to do and toilets to scrub and dinners to plan and laundry to do and wood to chop. Just like when we are at home. Because we are at home. Just a bit further north. (Although Tom would be quick to point out that he doesn't do much "lumberjacking" at home.)
In other words, there is no maid service.
3 -- Although we've built a pretty solid "inventory" of necessities at our cottage (dishes, glassware, cookware, cleaning supplies, tools, etc.), there are always things we need to drag between houses (reading material, computers, stitching projects, etc.). It really can't be any other way - because there are things we're currently working on or dealing with that are time-sensitive that we need to cart back and forth. Which does make it feel kind of like packing-for-a-vacation each time we travel up.
In other words, it's really a drag when you pull out your latest Alabama Chanin project to stitch -- but realize you forgot to bring your needles. (Gah!)
So, yeah. It's pretty great up here -- and I love it! I am grateful for this space. I am so very fortunate to be able to get away and come "up north" whenever I want to. (I'm lucky. Oh so lucky. And I know this.) I appreciate my time up here.
But I don't want you to think that I just hang out on the dock all day, watching the eagles and the loons and the cranes while I sip wine and read books.
I mean . . . I DO that. But between those idyllic, peaceful, down-times you'll find me scrubbing last year's spider webs and wood-detritus from my window sills, changing the bedding, facing down last night's dirty dishes, and lamenting the fact that I could be stitching (but forgot my needles).
Like most things in life, the good far outweighs the bad. But sometimes . . . reality bites.
Be sure to hop over to Carole's today, for more Three on Thursday posts.
The subtle little signs of the seasons changing from summer to fall were in evidence up north over the weekend.
Acorns falling like rain from the trees.
Forest ferns curling and turning brown.
Goldenrod in full bloom along all the roadsides.
Pops of color from changing leaves in the forest.
And this one (my favorite). . .
In the fall, the morning air temperatures tend to be much (much) colder than the lake water temperature. As the sun rises, there is a thick mist floating on the lake surface . . . until the air warms up a bit, and the temperatures equilibrate again.
It looks mystical . . . magical. I love it!
This weekend, the misty lake got me thinking . . . because this is what happens to me. My inner-temperature is still set at "summer" -- but the world around me is turning to "fall." Like the lake, I'm slower to adjust -- and need to equilibrate to the changing seasons once more.
(Always working on finding my balance!)
As I have mentioned in the past, I am a record-keeper. I have been journaling since I received my very first diary (one of those little lock-and-key numbers) for my 10th birthday.
Up north, here at our cottage, I've been keeping journals to record our up-north-adventures since we first built the place -- back in 1998!
These journals are a treasure-trove of information now, and we find ourselves dipping in every once in a while -- especially if we want to find the exterior dimensions of the cottage . . . or to remember what year we added the shed . . . or bought the pontoon boat . . . or to look up who it was that we hired to take down a dead tree near the house.
It's also fun to look back and read the details of what the kids did as they grew up at the cottage (because Erin had just finished 2nd grade and Brian was still in preschool our first summer up here) and how things evolved over the summers. My journals keep track of wildlife sightings, special guests, fishing trends, and life changes.
Although I still keep an up-north journal, I don't update the details of each of our trips up like I once did. Things up here have settled into a . . . sameness . . . now -- and it would get a bit too repetitive if I wrote about each visit in detail like I used to. I imagine, though, that I'll always maintain a cottage-journal in some form or another.
As I was looking back at my old journals this week, I found another kind of journal tucked in with the rest . . .
Back in June of 2000 (I know because I looked it up in my cottage journal!), Erin and I used to take walks in the woods surrounding our cottage to find wildflowers. I was only beginning my gardening adventures back then, and didn't know much about wildflowers. We would go out in search of whatever was blooming, collect a few specimens, and then look them up in our trusty wildflower guides. (The internet wasn't A Thing yet, so we relied totally on our guides.)
As we got more interested in wildflowers, we started drying and pressing our best specimen plants to create a "journal" of our wildflowers.
It was quite a project. We completed the journal over the course of that up-north-season; filling the entire book with flowers and leaves and even a few pressed berries. Erin even used it for a school nature project somewhere along the way.
I haven't looked at it in years, but it was fun to stumble across the journal and . . . remember. I'm actually surprised at how complete it is; and how well it's held up over time. The colors, though? Totally faded.
I still take walks and look at the wildflowers whenever I'm up north. Sadly, there aren't as many. Our lake association has taken to mowing the roadsides these days. I'm not exactly sure why, but I imagine it appeals to the same folks up here who plant grass and try to create lawns (in the woods) (I know). I don't pick any of the wildflowers any more -- mostly because I want them all to seed the roadsides.
But also because these days, I can "collect" them this way:
(From top to bottom: Queen Anne's Lace, Bull Thistle, St. John's Wort, Moth Mullein, Ironweed, Common Evening Primrose)
Collecting and documenting is certainly much easier these days, thanks to smartphones and the internet. It's fun to look back over your memories -- no matter how they're recorded!
Up at our lake, we have a very old pontoon boat that we mostly use for just cruising about. . . looking for wildlife, enjoying the sunsets, scouting for fish.
Tom is The Skipper.
I am Gilligan.
This means I help do things (that Tom can do on his own, but I like to have my own role, y'know?) . . . like cast off, manage the anchor, or navigate back to the dock.
We rarely fish from the pontoon, but when we do? Gilligan is super busy. (Because fisherman are fickle and want to try out new spots constantly. That anchor-managing keeps Gilligan hoppin'!)
We had my dad up for a visit to the cottage for a few days, and we took the pontoon out every afternoon for leisurely fishing.
The dogs love to come out with us on the pontoon boat. While they prefer just cruising, they certainly don't mind kicking back and relaxing on the boat while we fish. And Jenny -- who LOVES fishing -- remains on high-alert for the sound of reeling-in-a-big-one (or, for that matter, even a little one).
Sometimes we luck out . . .
and someone lands a good fish.
But, mostly . . . it's just lovely bobbing along, watching the summer unfold on the lake.
And what does Gilligan do with the downtime on the pontoon?* Well. In the past, I have tried to bring books or a knitting project along. But, y'know . . . it never fails. Right in the middle of a row, or after settling into a new chapter, The Skipper calls for assistance with the anchor . . . and we're moving again!
So now? I bring a magazine. And my camera. And these . . .
Birdwatching at the lake is endlessly entertaining. I watch the loons. I love watching the herons and kingfishers. I even found a bald eagle perched in a tree the other day. You just never know what you'll spot -- and it's a whole lot easier to put the binoculars down in a hurry when someone calls for . . .
I call that Win-Win!
* I get a fishing license every year. But I'm just not that into fishing.
For a few years now, I've wanted to try stand-up paddle boarding. I mean . . . it looks so fun! Just paddling along, enjoying the lake views. Y'know? Kind of like kayaking. . . But not.
I decided that THIS was the year! (After all, BALANCE is my word for 2017.) Tom got me a paddle board for my birthday.
Let me tell you, folks. Stand-up paddle boarding? Not so easy! (The whole getting on and getting off part, alone, was nearly enough to do me in. . . ) I have very good balance and core strength from years of practicing yoga and Pilates -- but when I stepped on that board?
(Kind of like being in a canoe for the first time. Remember that feeling? Like any movement you make - no matter how slight - is going to upend the whole works? Yeah. That feeling.)
My legs were shaking so badly I thought, surely, I'd fall in and have to swim back to shore . . . defeated. And that's when I started talking to myself. Out loud.
You are strong.
You can do this.
The worst thing that can happen is you end up in the lake.
I was determined. I kept at it. Eventually, I figured things out -- how to turn around, how to control my speed, that I had much better balance when I relaxed. And, before I knew it, I was Doing It! And it was FUN.
In the end, I learned some important lessons about BALANCE from my stand-up paddle board; lessons that can be applied to, well . . . the rest of LIFE:
Before I head home later this afternoon, you know what I'm going to do? Yeah. A bit more work on my balance!
Look an awfully lot like more relaxing.
Don't be fooled, though. (With wifi and a computer, much work can happen in between casts!)
Yesterday, Tom and the dogs and I headed up north to our cottage for a few days.
We're enjoying time on the lake . . . watching the baby loon learn to dive, marveling at the grace of herons, endlessly throwing toys for the dogs to retrieve in the water, trying out my new stand-up paddle board. It's quiet and comfortable and remote.
Although . . .
Turns out not all that remote, really. After all, we have (spotty) cellular service up north at the cottage. And (slow-ish) wifi. We can stream Netflix. And that keeps us connected with the world at large.
Next week, though? We're headed beyond Up North . . . to WAY Up North.*
On Sunday, we leave for Beaver Island (the northernmost island in Lake Michigan). We've rented a cottage right on the lake for a week, which will be incredibly beautiful and so cool and sure-to-be-relaxing.
But . . . now we're talking Remote. Because there is no cellular service. No wifi. No television at all. Just a landline for emergencies.
And I can't wait!
(Although I'm sure I'll have some Google-withdrawal.)
Enjoy next week -- and we'll catch up when I return.
* And, of course, it's all a matter of perspective. Because there's the whole of Michigan's Upper Peninsula even farther Up North!