Heston's Notebook

Snowbanks: It's about time

2012-01-27T20:09:00.001-06:00

When the road finally has snowbanks...

And the trees are all frosted...

...it begins to actually feel like winter. Here we are, better than a month into this season, and it is starting to look like its usual self. Paul and I returned from a short road trip, and in our absence, six fresh inches of snow had fallen. Add that to the "roughly one foot" on the ground, and it becomes necessary to wear boots most of the time. It feels good.

Snow has been with us since Thanksgiving. It's just been skimpy. That's at least a little better than most of the state. But when it comes to the white flakes, I'm greedy. I'll take all that we can get, and more. Now that the depths are up around eighteen inches, I'm feeling a little more comfortable.

The weather has been mild, with only a brief spell down into the sub-zero temperatures. It seems that our snow falls when the thermometer is in the high twenties to low thirties. It's nice not having to bundle up, head to toe, with only a small space between hat and scarf to see out. And it makes for very comfortable skiing.

Addie and I had a chance to try out the Lonely Lake trail before her school break was over. It was in terrific shape. Paul had an adventure one day when he decided to snowshoe the South Rim, to the High Cliffs, and then he skied back on the Lonely Lake trail. Our guests have been out enjoying all the various trails, and reports come back that all is well.

On one final note in praise of winter, it always warms my heart to see our buddy Eduardo decked out like this:

Awash in Color

2011-09-30T15:00:00.001-05:00

Currently, we are awash in color....all of the vivid fall spectrum, to be more specific. Daily walks yield reds, oranges, purples, yellows and browns, from the top of the trees down to the forest floor. It's a wonderful time to be in the woods.

I've been able to get out in the mornings lately, to walk down our road. Earlier this month, I felt like fall was stalled. We were in a pattern of cold, rainy weather, and the leaves seemed determined not to change from their late-summer shade of green. Once the sun returned last Saturday, the painting of the forest began in earnest. Each day became a little brighter, from the color that was replacing those greens. The two birch trees at the northern corners of the lodge began to reflect a bright gold into the store. The moose maples exploded in reds and oranges. Even at dusk, when it would normally be feeling darker, the reflected light had a brighter spring in its step. The wonders of autumn.

We enjoyed a stretch of sunny, warm days, filled with the smells of the season. Temps made their way into the seventies, and we were fooled a bit. Then the wind switched, and came down from the north. Even when I am told that it is coming, it still takes me a little by surprise. Yesterday, it blew hard for several hours. Leaves flew down, like the rains that were also falling. Pine needles covered the road and the roof of our side porch. I was afraid that the fall showing would be completely decimated in one afternoon. Fortunately, the wind subsided by late in the day, and this morning, there was still plenty of action on the trees. Leaves are still in various stages of green to yellow, as I look down the hill to a poplar tree. The cedars hang heavy with seed pods gone brown. The underbrush was not buffeted by that wind, so most of the leaves are still in their places.

So the technicolor show will last a little longer, and my morning walks will continue to be bright and cheery. Not a bad way to end the wonderful summer and move into the inevitable time for hibernation, though not all of us will be hibernating. There's still work to be done! Firewood season is upon me.

Speed Racers

2011-05-24T11:22:00.000-05:00

Well, that time went by pretty quickly! Sometimes I pause to contemplate my life in fortnight segments. If I am in the midst of a big project, I think to the moment two weeks ahead, where I may be in the process, and whether it will be finished. Or if there is a lot on the calendar in that amount of time, I am figuring out how to get here, there, and everywhere and keep on schedule. For whatever reason, that is how my mind likes to plan. And now it's been fifteen days since my last post. Life has been full, with work, family, and fun, and spring has been speed racing the whole time.

The weather finally gave us the pearls I was looking for---some nice, warm days, all strung together like a necklace. It allowed the leaves to burst forth, and we are enjoying that intense and energetic lime green. My tulips look lively, with yellow and red buds waiting to open up. The birds are awake by four a.m., singing their songs of the season. Even the bugs are out and about now, which can be cause for a few grumbles. But once again, we remind ourselves about their job of pollinating our berry plants. When I savor the fresh pan of blueberry crisp that Addie made with berries from the freezer, even the blackflies look good.

We finished the cleaning and prep for the fishing opener, attended Paul's graduation ceremony, packed up Addie's dorm room and brought her home, and got back to work. Greg opened up several sprinkler systems, while I began to sort and parcel "stuff" to be given away in the annual Gunflint Trail rummage sale. The sale took place last weekend. Since this was the second year, I think it may be safe to say that it will be an annual event. We set things up in my old studio cabin, which now has a good roof, but still needs some work. It was out of the rain, and that was important. We still have many things to pass along, so if you are in our neighborhood, be sure to stop in and see if you can find some treasures. Some is free, a lot is cheap.

Despite the frenetic pace, I still find a few moments for keeping an eye and an ear open to what might be taking place outside. On Sunday morning, the lodge was quiet, and soon I could hear the loons calling. It wasn't long before they were really singing, and since it was nearby, I grabbed the camera and walked to the landing. Two loons were on the lake, just a short ways west. I watched as they started to race across the water's surface, headed in my direction. It was fascinating to watch their speed race, as they traveled past the lodge and on towards the point. I thought that they would see me and stop to dive. But they continued on past, and turned to swim back, as though they were racing in laps. Even after the camera stopped, they continued, though they took the show to the west. It must be the beginning of mating season, and this may be a test! I think they passed.

A Final Tribute to Winter

2011-05-09T13:35:00.000-05:00

Now that the ice is out, it feels like we can officially declare spring is here. That doesn't mean that we won't see any more snow. Flurries are often a part of the fishing opener. But the sledding season is definitely done. Before we say "Adieu", let's have a look at the final sled ride of the season.

And while you're at it, check out our new You Tube Channel : HestonsLodge
You can see a video of the last of the ice out, and also learn the secret behind Greg's comfortable sled. Then become a subscriber to the channel, because we have lots of fun videos in store for you.

Ice Out

2011-05-08T09:17:00.000-05:00

The last little bits of ice are on the move, from east to west. They are sounding off a tinkling to signify their demise. It's really cool. All to the east, as far as we can see, is shimmering water.

The west has been clear for a few days. Out in front of Heston's, the ice has floated back and forth, shrinking smaller and smaller. All that's left are these few rafts. The loons and ducks have been swimming along, sometimes venturing near to the edge. On Friday, some guests saw a group of ten loons at ice edge, a rare gathering for this time of year, I think.

And so, by day's end, it should all be gone. What a nice Mother's Day present.

Happy Mother's Day to all!

It's Peeper Time Again

2011-05-06T06:45:00.000-05:00

Some acts in nature come and go so quickly each year, I am afraid I might miss them. That's why I am happy to report that as I type this, I can hear loons calling--which of course will happen all summer--and that we recently got to hear the spring peepers. The chorus was not as loud as it will be, but these early providers did a fine job.

Holding Pattern

2011-05-05T16:55:00.001-05:00

As you may have noticed from my posts, this week is all about watching the ice. Over on our Facebook page, I've been uploading photos of the progression of the ice out, and I find it so interesting to see the daily changes. Today finds us in a holding pattern......a little more melting, but no fast progress. The west half of the lake is wide open, as verified last night on our evening dump run. But the east remains this deep gray, almost black. It does not look inviting at all. We've been graced with a half-dozen goldeneyes, who seem to know I am coming down the hill long before I even spot them. I suddenly hear scrambling on the water's surface, and then a distinct whistling from their wings as they fly away.

The first photo in today's post was taken this morning. The photo above was from May 2, and the one below was taken on Sunday, May 1. The snow is but a distant memory for me, and yet it was just a few days ago. Today it is raining, and the temps have not gone below freezing for a couple of nights now. Perhaps we are truly on the path to summer?

This weekend is the Gunflint Green Up, the annual tree-planting event in areas of the forest that suffered the Ham Lake Fire four years ago. Saturday will find me helping to plant in the Iron Lake area. It is so gratifying to drive by the places that we have planted trees, and to watch the new growth spurts. With the right amount of moisture and sunshine, the seedlings thrive. It's nice to know that I've had a minute little part in that.

Sun and Warmth = Melting Ice

2011-05-03T21:20:00.002-05:00

About the time when I'm thinking that winter will never go away, and the only way my hands will be warm is to keep them in hot dishwater.....then we get a day like today. The sun made an appearance for the whole day, instead of just a part of it, and really did a number on knocking down the ice on the lake. In the morning, it was frosty white with patches of gray. By day's end, it was mostly black. The wind was down, so there wasn't a lot of movement to the ice sheet. This evening, however, the wind is back up, so I expect it all to move around overnight. Some years, we've gone to bed thinking that it would be a few more days 'til ice out, only to wake up the next day and it was all gone completely. I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

We've been watching our usual markers for spring, and one of them is the melting of the ice in the creek above Sharlene's driveway. The water has been pouring steadily through the culvert for many weeks now, but the ice mass has not gone down. Instead, a channel for the flow was deepening itself. Tonight, Greg noticed that the channel is about three feet deep. Our fishermen have noted in the past how useful this ice is for coolers and keeping the catch chilled. It looks like we will have plenty of it available for whomever needs it. Greg thinks that remnants will still be clinging to the bank in early June.

Another thing we are watching is the progression of the lake level. We'd like to see the level reach at least the middle of our ramp. That would make a good starting point this spring. When the water reaches the top of our ramp, that is exceptionally high, and it can mean that objects on shore get pulled into the lake and go floating away. One year, we went down to the east end to retrieve a large dock that had escaped its moorings from a neighbor's property. It's almost like a treasure hunt when that happens.

Speaking of treasure, when we were out walking on the ice a few weeks back, Greg spotted a hat on the rocks along the shore line. He headed to pull it out, and found that it was a Heston's Lodge hat. It was a good mile and a half from our place, so someone had probably lost it to the wind while boating on some past day. He carefully hung it on a tree branch near shore, so that if the owner spots it, he/she can retrieve it. It's a little worn down, but still usable.

Tales of the Ice

2011-05-01T17:32:00.000-05:00

It's been an interesting year for the ice. Throughout much of April, we were able to walk out on it and explore its variations. We enjoyed the sounds of it early in the month. The temps were still cold enough for new ice to be forming, and the booming continued for a good week or so. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the colors changed, transitioning from white to gray, and now, well on our way to black.

In the first week, it was still very safe, in spite of the full sunshine working on it. We enjoyed a trek to the other side, and saw some early signs of spring. Little trees were stretching high to greet the warmth after the long winter, and a small spider was making its way along. Thanks to the heat radiating, we could smell those first scents of spring, most welcome to our noses. It was definitely sunglasses weather, and we picked up a little color on our faces in nature's version of a tanning booth.

As the days continued, we intermittently got snow and the decaying process would slow down. We would think that all progress had been lost, but I still felt that the waters underneath must be working some magic. Soon we were seeing evidence of that, as the usual locations began to open up: the west end by the Cross River, the creek that runs down in front of the rustic cabins, the landing down in front, and our beach area. Our walks on the ice are now finished for this season, as the ice gets grayer and grayer. On the sunny days, though few and far between as of late, the ice is black, a clear indication of its eventual demise.

As we get closer to open water, I look forward to the break-up, when the wind pushes the ice sheets into shore, and they slide on top of each other. The layers sometimes retain a bluish color for a brief stretch, and we can see the honeycomb of the crystals. If a chunk breaks off that's small enough to hold, it is totally clear, not frosty like an ice cube. Occasionally, we see the power behind the wind, when ice sheets will slowly push trees and rocks in the way. It seems like a long & slow path, but then suddenly, one day, it will have vanished.

2011-04-05T12:27:00.000-05:00

A fresh coat of snow brightens our landscape today, courtesy of Mother Nature. The storm that was predicted for Sunday and Monday looked to be a bit of a bust initially, with a mix of rain and snow on the first day. That night, it had pretty much stopped. I wasn't surprised, as it had often been like that this winter. But by Monday morning, I could see that this time, I was wrong. It had snowed through the night, and by the way the trees were frosted, it looked more like December than April. I had been commenting previously on how gray and dirty our snowbanks were looking. Someone heard me somewhere, and decided to change that. By midday, the snow had stopped falling, but the wind was blowing it off the trees, and it looked very much like a blizzard. We ended up with about six inches of heavy wet snow, yet another welcome contribution to our collection for filling up Gunflint Lake in a few more weeks.

Last year, our ice went out on April 10th. We were gone to Hawaii at the time, and so missed seeing the earliest ice-out in anyone's memory. This year, I think we will be on a more normal track, since the cold temps last week brought out the usual groaning sounds of ice-making. In December, we hear cool spaceship type sounds--pings and such, as the ice thickens. This time of year, it is a heaving noise, deep and guttural. I have seen new cracks, some almost a foot deep, the walls of ice about an inch apart. Down at the bottom, there is more ice, so I know it is still safe to walk on it. The other day, we ran an errand down to a neighbor's cabin, and we took the little truck. It was safer on the flat lake than the extremely icy road, with hills, twists and curves. Funny that I should be feeling that way, as I've not ever been fond of seeing vehicles larger than snowmobiles on the ice. It was, however, a fast, efficient and safe way to go.

The sun is out, and feeling warm, so that should go a ways towards melting this new batch of snow off of the road. Ever mindful that spring truly will return, Greg is busy working on his dock project today, putting new decking on top. He started last fall, doing a lot of welding and reinforcing on the framework. It seems funny that he should have to shovel off snow in April, just to get back to work. But quite possibly, a month from now, it will be time to be wheeling it into the lake. So I guess today is as good a day as any to get the job done. Some projects know no season, it is just that some days are better than others.

Any day is a good one to catch the sunset. Lately, as the sun moves more to the west from the southwest, we've been seeing great color in the sky. Another treat as we move towards the warmer time of the year.

A Bird's Eye View

2011-03-30T12:36:00.000-05:00

As winter winds down, the days are relatively quiet. The most activity we see is in the world of the birds. Flocks of them are returning, whom Greg fondly refers to collectively as Tweety birds. I've seen red polls and finches, some grosbeaks, and the usual chickadees and nuthatches. The songs they sing are more spring-like, and they are voracious at the feeder. We've started to toss a handful of seeds out the window of our room, on to the roof of the screen porch. It makes for some great viewing. We get a kick out of some of the feisty finches, who spend more time defending territory from their flock-mates, than actually eating. I wish I could tell them that there is plenty of seed to go around.

For more years than I can recall, whenever Greg would see a small plane going over Gunflint Lake, he would declare that the pilot should come down to pick him up, and take him for a ride. After the blowdown, and since the fires, that desire has only grown stronger. He had been up in a plane many years ago, but with the changes our forest has endured, he knew the scenery would be different now. That wish came true yesterday. A friend taxied down the ice, stopped out front, and invited us for a quick tour.

For my part, I, too, had been up above Gunflint Lake many years ago, when our friend Bill had his plane at the airport at Devil's Track. He offered to take me and the boys up for a ride. Addie was too little, so she stayed home with Greg, waiting on our landing, to wave at us as the plane came by. Robert sat up front, and Paul and I enjoyed the view from the back. Since it was a good seventeen or so years ago, my memory of it is a bit faded. Mostly green and blue, that is what I recall.

On this day, of course, things were predominantly white. We do still have a lot of snow, especially when seen from the air. Add to that the expanses of iced lakes, and it almost looked like a black and white landscape. The sun was shining brightly, and it was easy to identify the lakes with which I am most familiar. Looking west into the BWCA, it was quite helpful to have our pilot pointing out the various familiar names of distant lakes. Turning south, he showed us the tip of the Lutsen ski hill area, and we could see Lake Superior on the horizon. I was totally struck by how close these places are really are to me. It may take me an hour to drive to town, but up in the sky, I could almost see it from here. Ely is further---three and a half hours away by car, but it was out there somewhere to the west. Out of reach, of course, due to the flying restrictions over the Boundary Waters, but not so far away just the same.

We circled back along the south side of Loon, and I could see over to Gunflint Lake, the ridge between the two lakes stretching long. Paul and I had hiked the eastern section of it in January, when we took the trail to Bridal Falls. Patches of forest butted up against open area that had been parts of prescribed burns in the past. I recalled one such event, the Saucer Lake burn, back in the fall of 2005. I was home alone with Addie when the Forest Service came through to rent our boats and use our landing. Another section of the burned area had resulted from prescribed burning during the Ham Lake Fire. Without those planned activities, the wildfire in 2007 may have had a different ending for us.

Soon we were making our way from east to west down Gunflint Lake, descending closer to the ice. The lake is mostly clear of snow, save for a few thin crusty patches. The ice is super slick and bumpy. The wheels touched down with a loud thump and we slowed as we approached our point. We got out and thanked the pilot for our adventure, grateful for the opportunity to see it ourselves, and for the photos we were able to capture. What an awesome surprise!

The Last Trip

2011-02-15T10:53:00.000-06:00

Last weekend, one of our favorite groups of fishermen arrived to try for some trout. Some of these fellows have been coming up for more years than I have been here, so they know the lodge, the family, and more importantly, the lake, really, really well. I know that I've shared a tale or two about them on these pages. When I think of trout season, I often think of these guys.

Word over the weekend was that this was the last time one of the guys would be up. Wow, that was tough to hear. Fortunately, it wasn't that he is too ill to come--he's quite healthy. Rather, it just isn't so easy to do this anymore. He's getting on up in years, so mobility is more challenging, and staying warm in the cold weather presents itself, too. Even at my "tender age", I notice these things, albeit on a whole different scale. But he wanted to do a last trip, and so they came and fished, and with the aid of trucks and snowmobiles and space heaters, they made it a comfortable expedition.

That thought of a last trip stayed with me throughout the day. I contemplated it more as I lay in bed that night. Recognizing something as important as "the last time" is hard for me to do. I remembered when our oldest son Robert was getting ready to leave home and move to Alaska. It struck me that because we had not taken a family vacation that year, our last trip together had already occurred, and I didn't even know it at the time. It made me sad to think about it. But would I have done anything differently, had I known? Maybe not.

I think the tough part is that I would be attempting to get every last bit of enjoyment and importance out of each moment. And I would be sad at the same time, so that might actually interfere with the fun of it all. It's probably better for me to be clueless, in these cases. It's kind of the same way with good-byes for me. I prefer to say good-bye to someone when they leave with the hope that I will someday see them again. The nature of this lifestyle and business we have is that we do see people come and go all of the time. Of course it is impossible to expect that we will see them all again, but we've been blessed with many return customers and guests who have become good friends. I love the opportunity to check in with them each year, to have them back around my table so to speak. I guess I'll just forever be an optimist that can't say a final good-bye.

One thing I do know is that when a certain west wind starts to blow on Gunflint Lake, and the trout fishermen are waiting to head out, I'll be thinking of Wes. That's his kind of wind.

Ditchmobiles....A Fact of Life

2011-02-06T07:16:00.000-06:00

Just when you think everything is going fine, cruising down the road at a reasonable speed, you move over a hair. That's when the pull begins, and bingo, you can't fight it. You're a ditchmobile. No, this hasn't happened to me in a long time. And only once, thank heavens. It did have to be at New Year's, one of my busiest stretches of the year. But that was so long ago, I can't even recall if it was Dec. 30th or 31st.

Whenever I see the scars from vehicles that have gone into the ditch, I think that it might make for an interesting blog post. It's not that I would photograph and broadcast someone's misfortune. Maybe it's more that it is a good reminder for myself to do my best to stay away from the deceptive edges of the road. That is really the problem here. The snow does an excellent job of hiding where the road ends and the shoulder begins. In some cases, the shoulder is only inches wide and the ditch below it is quite deep. The snow acts like quicksand, and sucks the tire right in. You aren't going anywhere in that case.

Greg is quite adept at pulling cars out of ditches. Anyone up here with a big truck likely is. It comes with the territory. What I find interesting are the ways in which a ditchmobile finds a good Samaritan, way out here in the remote areas. If you are within walking distance of people, you can find someone willing to help. But if it's miles to the next residence or lodge, you are at the mercy of whatever traffic might be driving by. On a cold winter night, you might wait a while.

Last night, I was waiting at the end of the side road for a friend who kindly picked up a plow part in town for Greg. She was on her way home, and we had pre-arranged to meet at the Trail when she would be passing by. Since Greg was out plowing, I said that I would meet her. I sat out there with my knitting, pleasantly listening to the radio while I waited. She got there about ten minutes after our expected meet-up, but that was not surprising given the driving snow that was falling at the time. She apologized for her delay, and explained that she had stopped to help a couple in the ditch about a mile back. The three of them were unable to get the car unstuck, so she said that she would relay the situation to me.

It happened that I had seen Greg's truck parked at a neighbor's, so I drove back to where he was. After telling the story, I had not one, but two plow guys ready to help out. We drove down the trail, and sure enough, by the Loon Lake access road, there they were. Within about ten minutes, Greg and John had the straps and chains in place, and in a blink, Greg had backed up and the car popped right out and up on to the solid road bed. He made it look so easy.

Naturally, the couple was quite thankful and appreciative. We were more than happy to help them. It's a neat sort of karma that lets paths cross in the way that ours all did last night. That's reassuring when we think that it might be us next time in the ditchmobile.

A Page from the Notebook

2011-02-05T07:30:00.000-06:00

In the Quiet of Winter

2011-02-04T14:06:00.000-06:00

The days have passed, the calendar pages turned, and I find myself in the middle of the quiet winter. It's quiet in that way that nature provides. When I walked up to the mailbox earlier, the only sound was the squeak of the snow under my feet. More flakes were falling silently, joining the millions of others already laying on the ground. This is one of the prettiest winters that I can remember, as the trees are still laden with thick, heavy dollops. The roofs are stacked with layers of previous snowfalls. In some cases, I can see the delineations, like the lines in sedimentary rocks. Fortunately, the ice line is very small, almost unnoticeable. That came right after Christmas, and was immediately followed by more snow. As a result, we've not had to deal with icy roads. Just a good old-fashioned winter with plenty of snow.

Despite the quiet nature of the season, life is busy here and all around us. Yesterday morning as I sipped my tea, I heard Greg call to me from the kitchen. It was in that loud whisper sort of way that signals to me that Something Big is Happening Outside. I silently hurried to where he stood by the door, and saw a big beautiful timber wolf, standing in the roadway. We watched, unmoving and mute, as it surveyed the area. Greg whispered that, while he was preparing his cup of coffee, he had noticed a deer running by, outside the kitchen windows. He went to investigate, and there was the wolf. The deer was nowhere in sight. Somehow, the wolf had lost the trail in its pursuit, and was attempting to determine its next move. It started to sniff along the ground, and came to a bit of leftover food, given the previous day to the ravens. The wolf then looked up, and suddenly caught scent of something. It gracefully lifted its nose into the air and did a quick circling motion--amazing to watch. Then it headed down the road towards the point for a short distance, changed its mind, and turned to go back up the main road, from whence it had come. I watched as it loped up the hill, with a gait that was measured, steady, and powerful all at the same time. I also knew, though I couldn't hear, that it was a silent trek, unlike the crunching sound that I make when walking the road. The wolf turned on to one of the many deer trails criss-crossing the land, and continued with its hunt. I hope it was successful. We love having the wolves around.

Late in the afternoon, I was walking down the hill to the sauna, to fire it up. As I looked out at the lake, a musher with a team of eight dogs sledded by in front of me. They, too, were silent, as the dogs made their way through the deep snow. Carefully, gracefully, they strode along, pulling the sled and musher behind them. It wasn't long before they were well down the lake and nearly out of sight.

Such an amazing place in which I get to live.....Each day, I find reminders of that.

Solstice

2010-12-21T21:54:00.001-06:00

Deadline Week

2010-12-19T21:20:00.000-06:00

Christmas and the May Fishing Opener share a common question. Inevitably, someone will ask me, "Are you ready?" The truth often is that I am not ready, for either occasion, by the time the calendar page has turned. But the day comes, and somehow we do what needs to be done, and we enjoy the result. Really, what more can one ask for? Sure, it would be wonderful to be all organized and scheduled to finish things ahead of time, but it usually doesn't happen that way in my life.

This week happens to have a number of deadlines. The largest, of course, is Christmas, and all of the preparation leading up to it. It is also time for us to reopen the resort, and I have been working to get the cabins all cleaned and prepared for our incoming guests. And of course, we are in the final stages of a remodel project that needs to be done tomorrow.

Most resort owners seem to have a knack for finishing a project just as the guest is arriving to occupy the cabin. We have been known to do that. Try as I might, I can't seem to make that challenge disappear, so I just have to deal with it. This time, though, we have been fortunate enough to have a hero or two show up, just when we needed them most. The first was a good friend who came last week to lend a more than able hand to Greg. Our friend is better than that old TV character MacGyver. Not only is he every bit as capable and knowledgeable, but he is for real! Many thanks to him for all of his help.

Our second hero showed up on Friday night, and we were definitely ready for his assistance. He was up and prepared to work bright and early on Saturday. Looks like we're going to make our deadline, with time to spare!

Frosty Photos

2010-12-18T22:33:00.001-06:00

It was another cloudy day, but fortunately, I still have photos of the clear blue sky from a few days ago. The frost that day was not real heavy on everything, but it did seem to favor coating the littlest branches. Out of curiosity, I went looking through last year's pictures, to see what might have been happening at that time. I found the one below, which is a real stunner. We didn't get to see hoarfrost quite that thick and heavy this time around. But who knows, maybe some odd weather pattern will blow in at some point, carrying enough moisture to frost the trees. In the meantime, the pictures are fun.

It was a good day for painting, which is how I spent my time at Diamond Willow. As I walked back late in the evening, the almost-full moon was shining brightly through a light cloud cover. The snow was lit up enough to see without a flashlight. Up ahead, I saw something in the road. When it moved, I recognized it as a little fox, who was not expecting to see me. It ran ahead a bit, then paused to look back at me. When it finally figured out that I was human, it took off at a fast clip and disappeared into the woods. The most interesting part was the silent footsteps...not a sound they made, in contrast to the constant crunch of snow under my feet.

Christmas Time in the City

2010-12-17T23:48:00.001-06:00

We are on the home stretch of our bathroom remodel, but one important element was missing: a sink. And since today happened to be the day that Paul was traveling back from college, a trip to the city was in order. Shortly after arriving, we got the word that he, too, was almost in town, so we made arrangements to meet at a central parking lot.

It wasn't long before he and his gear arrived, and we got everything settled in to the car. Then we were off to the home-improvement store, to find the sink and all of the other last minute little parts that were still needed. It took two trips into stores of this nature, but we managed to find everything. Paul wisely chose to stay in the car. It was packed so full that if he had gotten out, stuff would have spilled into his spot, and he wouldn't have made it back in.

Interestingly, for the time of year that it is, nothing of our purchases was holiday related. For that matter, it doesn't look very festive here at the lodge yet. We've been so focused on getting the project done that we barely glance at a calendar. And suddenly, we realize that it is a week until Christmas, and maybe we should be stringing up some lights and garland. There's some celebrating to do!

So the week ahead will be a busy one, but fun, too. It's amazing that a whole 'nother year is nearly over.

I made a discovery today along the way. The city has pink sunsets in December, too.Very pretty, but not quite like at home.

Winter Birch

2010-12-16T21:17:00.000-06:00

On the days that the clouds move in and the sun remains hidden, it seems to be a monochromatic world out there. The evergreens look more black than green. Shades of gray abound. It gives me a bit of an idea of what it must feel like to be colorblind. But if this current color scheme means snow is in the air, I'm okay with that. We did get a few flurries today, though they were very sparse. Still, each flake adds up. I was again helping Greg, and he had me pulling nails from some boards. As I did, I could see little snowflakes on the wood. One had all six points and actually looked three-dimensional. Amazing little delights.

It's been a little over a month now that we have had decent measurable snow. In looking through my photos, I came across a couple that were taken on November 14th. It was our first big snowfall, and though we tried, the roads were not in decent condition for us to make it in to church. We came home, and decided that a walk in the woods was in order. So we headed up the Loon Lake Road, and then took the Border Route Trail spur that led back to the South Rim Trail. Since it had been cleared in October, we knew that it would be in good shape.

The hiking required close attention to our feet, but it still didn't stop us from taking in the beautiful scenery around us. The trees were heavily laden, thanks to the wet snow. As we went along, we noticed several birch trees that still had many little twigs and branches on them. This was noteworthy because, ever since the blowdown, we have seen a huge decline in the numbers of healthy birch trees. One school of thought is that the lack of shade (from all those trees that went down) caused the ground to receive more sunshine. That in turn warmed the soil more than the birch were accustomed to, and thus, they were tending to die off. To see healthy ones in this patch of woods was certainly good news.

One in particular caught our eyes. Greg identified it as a yellow birch. Most of what we have here are white, or paper birch. The yellow birch seem to grow larger, and the bark on them is much rougher. The one that we found most fascinating had twisted bark. It rather reminded me of a cedar tree.
I think that I will have to make a trek back up to that trail in the spring, so that I can see how this tree is doing in a new season. It will definitely be easy to spot.

Ice Fog

2010-12-15T23:35:00.002-06:00

The view out the window this morning included ice fog when we first got up. The majority of the landscape was totally white.....No sky, no horizon, just white. I hadn't seen fog since sometime in October. It has a surreal quality when it is not its usual gray color. About an hour later, it had mainly dissipated, leaving behind a bank in the far north sky. In its place, the sun came out to highlight the frost on the trees.

The camera that I use is just a regular Sony point and shoot digital. Sometimes I wish for something fancier, so that I could capture the way the sun twinkles through those icy crystals that adorn each branch. It really is true that snow and ice can sparkle, but it is next to impossible to record that in a photograph. Still, I tried, by taking photos of two of my favorite trees.

I think of this aspen as the raven tree, since it is one that the raven pair will often sit in throughout the summer. It was also the home to the flicker family earlier this summer.

And a beautiful white pine....no words needed.

Glimpses of Ice

2010-12-14T22:57:00.000-06:00

After two nights of sub-zero temperatures, I felt pretty safe walking on the ice right in front of our property this morning. It is such a neat feeling to be on that super hard, super cold surface that just a week ago was so wild and wet. Ice walking is one of my favorite winter past times. Today there was no wind, lots of sunshine, and miles of clear ice--with just a wee bit of frost on it for traction. Unfortunately, there was no time to be out strolling, as the list of tasks remains long. I did, however, grab a few moments with my camera to see what I could find.

At first glance, the lake looks completely white, with many interesting shadows crossing it. Because the winter sun travels so low in the sky, the trees cast some very tall shadows from shore. When I pause to look more closely at the ice, there is a miniature world of art at my feet. The frost crystals have grown to make up that solid white color I see, and each little shard helps to complete a bouquet of feathery images. It's pretty amazing that these tiny pieces can collectively give the impression that the lake is covered in snow.

I used my boot to push aside the frost, hoping that I might get an idea of how thick the ice has grown. All I could see was black, which is a good sign. That indicates solid strong ice. Without the dimension of a crack or two, it was not possible for me to guess at the depth. It was a lovely picture just the same.

Near to shore, I saw this white ice with its own little clusters of crystals. So many of the photos I've taken this month have a natural blue hue to them. I liked that this one was mostly whites, in varying shades. So many surprises out there, waiting for my eyes to see them.

A Sunny Day

2010-12-13T22:36:00.000-06:00

The sun came out today and lit up the lake with brilliant color. Too bad my camera can't capture it! Earlier this month, I said that it was my wish that it would snow everyday. That mostly came true before the lake froze. We missed out on the big blizzard that hit southern Minnesota. But nearly every day, we've had at least a bit of snow falling. The truth is that some of it could have been flakes induced by all the steam that was rising off the lake. Still I count it as snow, since it was white, flaky, and landed on all of the other similar stuff on the ground.

But today it was clear and cloudless, so I knew that it wouldn't snow. It was a gorgeous day, nonetheless, with a temp that started at 15 below and never made it above zero. Since a good friend is here right now to help Greg, I was free to do whatever I wanted to. I chose to bank snow around the base of Tamarack cabin. When I look out the window in cold weather and see the furnace exhaust constantly, it motivates me to do whatever I can to try to insulate that cabin. The exposed foundation needed some protection, and there is plenty of snow to work with right now. So I grabbed the shovel and went to work.I scooped snow from the deck and the ground around the cabin, and then tossed it up against the cinderblock foundation. Each shovelful added to the mound growing around the base. I was aiming to get up to at least the first course of logs, and with some steady work, I was able to achieve that. It quickly became apparent that I had overdressed for the job, though. I took my jacket off and found that my thick alpaca sweater was enough to keep me warm while shoveling, even though it was still ten below. I was impressed with that sweater! My mind wandered to the useful nature of snow, and what a good job it does to keep us warm, even if it is naturally a cold thing. Here I was, working up a sweat, and that same snow was going to keep the cabin warmer. Have you ever seen the photos of little cabins in Alaska, practically buried in snow? All that warmth around them! Wow. I'd love a winter that gave us enough snow to bank the cabins up to the windows. That would be the epitomy of the saying snug as a bug in a rug.

While I keep an eye on the sky and weather report for the next snow event, the deer have started to migrate through our property. These little ones were nosing their way by one of the cabins yesterday. They don't mind at all if people are ten feet away, as long as there is wood and glass separating us. Now that the lake is frozen, my eyes constantly drift out there, looking for wolf activity. Tonight is supposed to be well-below zero again, so that should thicken the ice some more. I expect well be seeing wolves again soon. In the meantime, I'll settle for a pink sunset, another nice bonus of this time of the year.

And then......

2010-12-12T19:52:00.000-06:00

The ice finally came. We woke to a still, serene scene. The waves now silenced until spring, that delicious quiet enveloped me. I love that moment, when the lake first freezes, and all I can hear is the silence and stillness.

The surface near shore is pebbled and rough. Further out, it's all white, but probably from frost and not snow.

But a surprise awaited us around the point. To the northeast, not quite halfway out, a large open lead still remained. The blue stripe lapped and rippled, still open and free. By tomorrow, we expect to see it undercover as well.

What a magical time, to see the lake go from its churning and waving, and overnight, it has been silenced.

Decorations of White

2010-12-11T21:48:00.003-06:00

No one can flock a tree the way Mother Nature can! A view of today's handiwork:

And the Snow Just Keeps Coming

2010-12-10T20:53:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was a long day. We worked most of it out at the cabin, trying to get the remodel to come together. We were waiting for a delivery of more materials, and then we heard that the delivery guy couldn't make it all the way up to our place. It had been snowing for several hours, and time was running out for him. So he left our stuff at Bearskin Lodge. That was fine, but it was dark by the time we left to go pick it up. And it continued to snow.

By the time we had loaded it all up and headed back towards home, it was six-thirty. Unloading took another half-hour, and then we gobbled a quick dinner. At that point, the plow guy told me that he needed to go out and take care of one of his contracts. So off we went to plow the Mile O Pine road. I rode along for the fun of it. Greg tells me that plowing is fun, and I wanted to see for myself.

It is really cool to see all of that snow in the headlights, and then to watch it heap up and cascade over the plow. Then he pushed it all into a magnificent pile in a strategic spot on the roadside. I must say, I was impressed. What was even more amazing, though, was that at one point, he started to slow way way down, and then he said, "There is a rock right about here." And of course, at that very moment, the plow hit a rock. That can only come with years of experience. This looks like one of those years that will only add to his experience. When asked in town today how much snow we have, I said that we must be going on at least twenty inches by now. I haven't had time to go tromping into the woods, but I expect that when we go out to find a Christmas tree, we will be sinking in deep. Best snow year in a long time!

Ice and Snow

2010-12-09T16:15:00.001-06:00

About all of that ice in front of Diamond Willow cabin yesterday? Gone. The wind switched and took it all somewhere. Either that or it melted. When I went over this morning, only the thicker shelf of ice nearer to shore remained. This is really quite a process. I was thinking about how the water tends to almost look thicker as the ice-up draws near. Even though the viscosity doesn't change, it almost looks like it does. Yesterday it was displaying that. Today it is as wild and free and full of waves as ever.

As we walked past the beach to go eat lunch yesterday, the ice there was quite interesting. It was rather like folds. Greg stepped out on to it to explore it. For several days, we had seen the ice forming, but it did not have the rippled and folded texture to it. Since he was on his way to the boathouse to check on something stored there, he decided to continue along the shore on the new ice.

See that darker grey part towards the middle right of the photo? That ice is not as strong. Ask Greg how he found that out. He knew that it might be a little soft, and he could feel it as his boot went through. He also knew that the water was only about one foot deep in that spot. Now we know that the little bit of ice is still on the thin side, but we likely could have guessed that one.

It is snowing today, and so far we have collected about three inches or so. I'd say that we are getting close to the point when we will be able to start grooming the trails for skiing. Early snow makes a perfect base for skiing all winter long. Time to pull out the skis, boots and poles and hit the trails.

Adding and Subtracting

2010-12-08T22:31:00.000-06:00

Who knew that I could be a styrofoam artist? Certainly not me, but that is what I was thinking this afternoon as I was helping Greg. He had asked me to assist in some weather-proofing measures that involved styrofoam insulation and spray foam. When I asked for instructions, he just said to cut it to fit, and then stuff it in. Okay, I thought, how hard can that be?

Turns out, that can be a lot harder than one thinks. First of all, my chosen medium is generally fiber of some sort, be it yarn for knitting, or fabric for sewing. Even wool for spinning, but all three cases have the same thing in common. I am an artisan of addition, not one of subtraction. I recall a couple of years ago when I had a conversation with an artist about to sculpt a block of snow. I was saying that it is difficult for me to picture the parts to take away, rather than what to add. When I knit, I am adding yarn, row by row, to achieve the finished product. When I was cutting styrofoam today, I had to take away the parts that weren't needed. And those parts were very confusing for me.

The beauty of this type of work is not in the process or the product...it's all in the foam. Once I got the knack of cutting out chunks, without worrying too much about fit, I would do my best to stuff the pieces into place. Often it meant removing said piece and trimming some more. But rather than worry about tightly fitted chunks, Greg reminded me that the foam would take care of the mistakes that I had made. Lo and behold, it worked. I've used spray foam a couple of times before, and I am not adept with it. So I let him have that job today. Once my pieces were jammed in, he came along with the magic yellow foam, and filled in all the gaps. As he did so, we could literally feel the cold drafts being choked out. Amazing! Just think how warm those pioneers would have been if they had been able to seal the cracks between the logs with foam, rather than moss or whatever else they used? It was satisfying to feel modern technology at work.

Just in time did we accomplish this task, for it is supposed to be below zero again tonight. Last night never actually made it there, with single digits above zero seen first thing in the morning. The lake was fairly calm, and as we worked, I checked its condition. The water near shore was showing more signs of icing up. The main body remains open. Tomorrow, snow is predicted, and winds from the south. If the night is cold and calm enough, maybe it will freeze over, but then we will be dealing with a layer of insulative snow on top of fresh ice. That doesn't make for the thick ice cover we need. It can also lead to early slush. But what does it matter, what I think? Mother Nature is in charge, and I'm just watching what she is up to.

Do Short Days Go By Faster?

2010-12-07T22:47:00.001-06:00

The days are getting steadily shorter. The sunrise this morning was 7:36, and it set at 4:09. I actually only caught a brief glimpse of it anyway. I was at the dump, attempting to stuff old insulation into an already-overfilled canister. For a moment, the sun tried to shine through the clouds, giving me a quick look at its silhouette. That was all. Greg had suggested that I wait until after lunch (late already at 2:00) to go, but I didn't want to be there in the waning shadows. It's getting harder to see all the time. The little shreds of daylight can make a huge difference.

The old insulation and other assorted construction garbage are the result of a much-needed facelift to the bathroom at Diamond Willow. This marks the third year of a fall project in that cabin. Last year it was a new bedroom floor, and two years ago, I refinished the living room and kitchen floors. It's a good thing the cabin patiently waits for us throughout the year--as do all of you wonderful guests. Once again, we are trekking down to the wire on getting it done, but it's moving along nicely.

Something else that is moving along is the cooling off of the lake. Today we had lots of steam rising from the surface, and I saw a chunk or two of ice floating by. When I look at these photos, I can't help but feel cold, cold, cold. Until the lake freezes, the wind has an extra bite to it, filled with the dampness that will soon be trapped until spring. I suppose that I should be grateful for the little bit of moisture in the air. Winter around here is a pretty drying season. I go through several bottles of lotion. What a difference from summer, when the humidity is always too high for some people! At any rate, it is supposed to be well-below zero tonight, so if the wind calms down enough, perhaps we will see that white coat from shore to shore. I do hear it blowing still at this moment.....

As for the days going by faster, well, yes, I believe they do. It seems that when it is dark while we are having morning coffee, and dark long before dinner, the time for getting work accomplished is reduced greatly. Funny, though, there still are the same twenty-four hours in the day. I guess that I must be a daytime person, that's all. Good thing I don't live in Alaska!

A Little Holiday Cheer

2010-12-06T21:23:00.001-06:00

Lest anyone think that our palette right now is all about white and black and blue, I thought that it was time for a bit of the other colors thrown in. These are not from the landscape, but they are colorful just the same.

Each year, our Northwood Fiber Guild hosts a holiday sale on the first Saturday of December. It is always a wonderful display of the works of our many artists and artisans. We hold it at the Art Colony in Grand Marais, where we have been for the past twenty or so years. The show has garnered quite a following, for which we are most grateful. People line up, sometimes right out the door, in anticipation of finding just the perfect treasure for a gift or for themselves. It's a lovely way to usher in the season.

Some years I have made things to sell, some not. This year has been about remodeling projects here at home, so I did not bring anything. Addie has sold some of her clothing designs in the recent past. But college has kept her too busy to have produced anything. There's always next year!

Something that really tickled my fancy, though, was the combination of socks and handwoven rug. I was cashiering, and the customer kindly agreed to let me take a photo of her two purchases. I was imagining how it might look to go home and put those socks on, stand on the rug, and take a picture of that! Sometimes we all need a bit of crazy color in our lives.

Ice on Magnetic Lake

2010-12-05T20:16:00.000-06:00

Waiting for Ice

2010-12-04T08:57:00.000-06:00

Today I have borrowed another one of the photos I took on Friday, to post here. It's a little difficult to see, but in the foreground, the rocks of the lake bottom are visible. It's not very often that Gunflint Lake calms down enough to catch this in a picture. We still seem to be several days away from freezing, but if the ice should form when it is calm and clear like this, then it is possible to peer through the ice, and see that same view of the lake bottom. It's a pretty cool thing when that happens.

Not too many years ago, the bay of Lake Superior around Duluth froze up. It was so fascinating for people, they took to the ice, with skates, with skis, and I'd assume with fishing equipment, too. A young girl was exploring off of Park Point and discovered a shipwreck, by looking through the glass-like surface of the ice. I tried to find some information on it, and here is a link that I came up with: Documenting Sophie .

I doubt that we will ever see a shipwreck right off of our shores here, but it is fun just the same, to explore that mysterious underwater world. Now if only the ice comes, and cooperates.

Advent Calendars

2010-12-03T20:55:00.000-06:00

Did you ever have an Advent calendar when you were young? Sometimes we did, in the household in which I grew up. Since I have so many brothers and sisters, we had to take turns (and wait a long time between) opening up the little windows that covered colorful drawings. The excitement of Christmas was evident as we gathered round to see what was under that little bit of paper. Counting down with the calendar made getting through the month and the interminable wait just a little easier.

We celebrate Advent in this house, too. Sometimes we have a calendar, and this year is no exception. Some friends sent us a lovely, hand-drawn calendar. The cover is in black and white, and as expected, behind the windows are pretty little colorful pictures. Since we have no kids here this fall--a first for us--it is usually me who gets to open the doors. It's a fine little treat each day, but I must admit that I am in no hurry for the month to go by. Well, maybe just a little, as it means that the kids will once again be home from school for their break.

What got me thinking about all of this today is that I am trying to post a photo each day this month, of the things that I encounter and observe. It's a little like an Advent calendar, but instead of opening a door, you check the blog to see what has been posted. It is a bit of a challenge for me when I first get back to writing the blog, especially after an extended hiatus as the one I just took. It's a good thing that I do not make my living as a writer! There would be months with very little food in the cupboard, I'm certain. At any rate, here is the latest in my installment of my little adventure:

Once again, the sky was just too good to pass up. The camera tried to catch the colors the way my eyes saw them, but it missed on the aqua color in the lake's reflection. We did see the sun for quite a stretch today, and so we had a sunset. And this morning, we even had a few snowflakes falling, so that fulfills my wish for three days straight now. I talked to some fellows who were out hiking in the woods today, and they said that the snow was a good eighteen inches deep in some spots. They also said that they encountered people who were out packing the ski trails. All good news for the upcoming ski season.

Something about the Sky

2010-12-02T21:03:00.000-06:00

There is something about the sky in these days leading up to the winter solstice that I find fascinating. Early morning will often display some lovely shades of peach, pink and lavender as the sun makes its way lazily up. Though I haven't verified it, I think that sunrise is around 7:30 a.m. or so. Most days lately are cloudy, so I haven't seen as much early morning color, but that's okay. My December wish is coming true--for it to snow every single day this month. Two for two so far.

This photo was taken late this afternoon, when the sun was beginning to set. We didn't actually see the sun at all today, since it was snowing. But by late afternoon, when I was heading to Diamond Willow cabin, a thin stripe of blue was evident, and the cloud just below it was pink and gold. It was hard to capture it on the camera (I can no longer say "on film"), but it was great to see in person. Just three more weeks until the solstice. I wonder what else the sky will have in store for me?

So often my visual focus is on the lake. It is more than a ritual to look out the window first thing in the morning, to get an idea of what the weather might be like based on the mood of the lake. We now have a wonderful new and larger window in our room, so it is possible to see both the south shore and the north shore when we first wake up. Such a luxury! Maybe we'll actually have a better view for spotting wolves, once the ice forms. We'll see. In the meantime, I also snapped a photo of the only white caps that I saw today:

Icy white caps or hats on top of the rocks near shore. The water was churning all day, but it wasn't sending up much steam. Tonight we might see temps below zero for the first time this fall. That should do some good towards lowering the water temperature in preparation for the freeze-up.

While traveling to Montana last year, I was pondering my connection with our lake, and my enjoyment of watching it. If I lived in a place without that water, what would I do? I came to the conclusion that people in the western states must watch the sky in the same way that I watch the water. The changing patterns of the clouds would be like the waves, and the colors would offer constant variety as well. It's all in how we study it, and record in our mind the observations we have made. Though some of it is definitely repetitious, it always seems new and exciting to me.

A Good Start

2010-12-01T21:25:00.000-06:00

A new month, almost a new season....Actually, it is a new season, even though the calendar has yet to catch up. We've been blessed with early snow, and lots of it. I finished the woodpile on November 8th, and at that point, I declared that snow could come anytime. Providence stepped in, and our first flakes fell that weekend. Since then, we've been collecting inches, inches, and more inches.
Here is my classic shot, taken of the lake and sauna from our upstairs window. I took this on Thanksgiving Day. We got between six and eight inches overnight. Paul and I spent the prior evening driving home from Two Harbors. He had gotten a ride to that point, and while I waited for him to arrive, I watched the snowstorm begin. It came with a vengeance, and caused some pretty intense times while we motored up the shore. We had to stop periodically to wipe the heavy wet snow off of our headlights, and at those moments, we could hear the roar of the lake. While standing out there, watching big flakes rapidly fall to the ground, the weather didn't seem so bad. But as soon as we started to drive again, the visibility dropped like a stone. What kept me trucking along was a seriously great set of tires and a good knowledge of the road. Once we reached the Gunflint Trail, the visibility improved and the snow depth increased. We just kept pushing along, and we remembered our big adventure of a few years back. Before leaving Grand Marais, we had called Greg, so he knew that we were on the Trail. If we hadn't gotten home within two hours, he planned to come out looking for us. Fortunately, we arrived in an hour and a half, for a total of four and a half hours of drive time. While I was driving, I couldn't be upset---I am so happy that we are getting such fabulous snow this year.

Greg has been plowing for many days, keeping our driveways clear and those of several neighbors. We have snow to bank the cabins, snow to insulate the septic system, and snow to build up on the trails. Soon we will be grooming and then skiing. What an awesome start! I think it's going to be a great winter.

Hangin' with the Hornets

2010-08-19T14:55:00.000-05:00

They're at it again, those pesky bald-faced hornets or yellow jackets, or whatever they are. Just two months ago, I wrote about them and their ability to build nests in inconvenient places. This time, the problem with it is less the proximity to people, but more the ability to effectively get rid of it in an efficient fashion. See what I mean?This nest of pests currently hangs from the lamp of a non-functional outside light. It was installed years ago, back in the day when we found those things useful. We eventually reached the point where we enjoyed the darkness more than the occasional convenience of a giant night light. That happened to coincide with the light deciding it didn't want to turn on anymore. Since we don't use the light, or that matter even think about it, we didn't notice the new residents until yesterday, when Paul happened to spot it.

This thing is about twenty feet off the ground. It appears to completely fill the space between the socket and the glass. That's one solid nest, and I'm afraid that the little apartments in this complex are totally and fully occupied. Those little neighbors must be the ones who have been visiting our table at pizza night, without a reservation, I might add. Last week, Greg found a nest about 100 yards back behind the bread oven, and I thought that it was the source of our newest visitors. Now I realize that they were a whole lot closer.

So far, they've been polite, not causing any trouble of the stinging nature. Still, I don't trust them. With the size of that hive, it's only a matter of time before someone gets a little miffed, and starts to cause problems. They didn't like me taking photos from afar, as I was. Heck, I'm not the paparazzi or anything, but they acted like I was trying to steal their secret building techniques.

This means the hive has to go, but the date and method are yet to be determined. We've learned that a can of hornet spray will reach up to twenty feet. But the idea of using a real powerful stream of water is under consideration. I'd hate to have the can falter or run out on us, mid-stream. That would be a lot of angry hornets to face.

Hmmmm....Now How Did That Happen?

2010-08-18T10:20:00.000-05:00

When I drove to town yesterday, I noticed a lot of the underbrush was turning yellow and brown, in various stages. As I approached the last downhill run, the large and stately maples that lend their name to that area of the county were also beginning to sport the shades of change. As I often am wont to do, I asked myself how did we get here so fast? I guess that everything is on its usual schedule, but am I? In my mind, isn't it still mid-summer? That's what August does to me: life moves in to fast forward, and when I pick up my head to notice it, several days have flown by. But it's all good, because we are still here and kicking.

In the time since I last wrote, the weather continued on a most summery path. We had temps in the eighties, lots of sunshine, occasional rain. That's my idea of summer in abundance. For some in our household, it is more than they care to deal with, particularly if the humidity is high. But for me, I know how soon the change will come, so I try to lap up as much of it as I can. There are summers up here where I rarely change out of blue jeans. But this one, I was able to wear shorts a lot of the time, making use of that fabulous Hawaii wardrobe I'd invested in. What a delight to hear happy sounds coming from the beach area, for so many days in a row. How good to be gathering the fruits of the season while enjoying the summer sky. And what a delight to have evening campfires, with at least some stars. Unfortunately, the aurora borealis never made an appearance, but we are still keeping an eye out. Overall, it's been a great summer.

But on Sunday, sometime during the night, it began to change. The northwest wind rolled in, and with it came the cooler temps. Everyone is remarking on the switch from "dog days" to "fall is in the air". The crispness brightens our cheeks, for those up early enough to feel it. The days warm to the sixties (and soon back to the seventies), but we enjoy it knowing that the clock is ticking. The wind was our companion for two and a half days, and all of those nights. It finally settled to a dull roar, reminding me of my father using that phrase when we children were way too noisy for his weary ears. Now I understand.

The coolness is a relief, of course. From what I've been hearing, it's been almost beastly hot in many places. Folks coming up from parts south are happy to have the respite, able to sleep at night, and feel comfortable during the days. But after church on Sunday morning, I heard remarks about it feeling so abruptly cold. "If it were late winter, this would feel warm," said someone. Yet there we were in our long-sleeved shirts, sweatshirts, and for some of us, windbreakers, too. It's all relative. For now, I am happy that the wind has died, (there's not even a dull roar now!) and that the sunshine is bright and definitely warming. I'm not quite ready to let it all go. The treats of late summer are still out there waiting--the late-season flowers, the tang of woodsmoke in the air while the last of the marshmallows get roasted. But for those who live with me, I'm glad that they won't have to endure any more weather that's too hot.

The Lure of the Berries

2010-07-26T17:34:00.000-05:00

Yes, it's yet another blueberry post....It is so interesting living with people who are totally and truly addicted to berry picking. It's funny to listen to their conversations:

"Where did you find those big berries?"

"I can't say. It was so-and-so's favorite spot that he/she shared with me."

"Do you duck when you are out there picking near the road?"

"Heck, yeah! I don't want people to see me! And I was wearing my camouflage clothing, too."

"I heard two people honk, but I didn't park my car where I was picking."

Everyone has their ways of picking not only the berries, but also their secret spots where "the best" berries grow. Funny thing is, sometimes the people discover that the folks they are talking to also pick in the same location, but at different times. They just keep missing each other.

The truth of the matter is that, almost anywhere you go right now, the berries are so fantastic that there are more than enough for everyone, critters included. It just depends on how far you want to walk, and how many berries you ultimately want to come away with.

Which brings us to another side of the coin, making room in the freezer. When the crop is so bountiful and the desire to pick so strong, the tendency is to just go and go and go. Each time the bucket comes back, it is totally full. What a beautiful sight! But what happens when we run out of freezer storage space? Used to be, we would make jam, but no one seems to eat that around here anymore. Pie and crisp are the two most requested blueberry treats. Berries stored in the freezer mean that one can enjoy the delights of summer all winter long. To these pickers, you can never have too many berries. I guess it may be something like what the ardent fishermen feel. As long as there is a lake with fish out there, or a patch full of ripe berries, you have to go harvest them! The big ones are all getting away, right now, even as I type.

How wonderful to have a year like this, when the crop is in its prime, plump and plentiful. Though I may have to sacrifice freezer space now (as in, I might be cooking a turkey this week, in order to make more room), that pie will taste extra special when it is 20 below zero.

Sunday Photos: Canoe Race Edition

2010-07-25T21:25:00.002-05:00

Rescue in the Wind

2010-07-24T21:23:00.000-05:00

Given that yesterday was another big wind day, with a nor'wester blowing at 15-20 mph, it was not surprising when a cabin guest hurriedly escorted some canoeists up to the lodge with an urgent request. One canoe in their party had swamped as they were attempting to cross Gunflint Lake. They had set up a makeshift sail, and it overpowered their craft. All three fellows had gone into the lake, along with their canoe and gear. Greg sprang into action, heading with them immediately to the beach, in order to head out in a motorboat to rescue them.

When he got down there, he surveyed the situation of our outboard state of affairs. Our own motors are still in that limbo world of "water in the gas", and so no motor had been put on the pontoon barge. That would have been the most stable boat to take out into the rough waters. The two 14' Sylvans have 15 hp motors on them right now, but to hold all the people and the gear, he knew these were too small. A neighbor had moored his 40 horse at the dock for the day, but it, too, was a relatively small boat. Then his eyes landed on the boat at the far end of the beach, and he knew that he had what he needed.

We've been storing a boat for our neighbor for several weeks now, and it was pulled high up on the sand. It was the largest, deepest boat that was in working order, and since this was an emergency situation, he knew he had to take it. He took the plastic bag off the prop (while thinking, "Why is this on here?") and then wondered how he was going to get it off the beach and into the water. But of course, there were half-a-dozen fellows standing right there, since two canoes had made it safely to shore. So they heaved and hoed, and were able to push the boat in. In short order, the motor was started, and Greg and one of the leaders were off and running across the lake to the Canadian side.

Greg spotted the trio and their canoe near to the north shore. They had come upon the sand bar, and were standing on it while waiting for the rescue. We were on the docks, watching the situation through our binoculars. They managed to align themselves with the canoe, and started the process of unlatching the packs, loading them into the boat, then picking up the canoe, flipping it over to empty it, and finally putting that across the boat. Once all of the wet fellows were on board, they started to move east. I continued to watch, and when I saw them turn and go west, then turn again to head east, I realized that they must be searching for something. Their partners on our beach decided it must be a lost paddle, and in the end, that indeed was the cause for the search. Finally they gave up on it, and headed across to where we all were waiting.

The traverse was a slow one, due to the hard-hitting waves, and the weight of the people and gear in the boat. In order to see where he was going, Greg stood the whole way while he steered the boat. They made it safely, and soon were unloading at our beach. All was well, with only a few wet guys and a lost paddle, as well as a story to tell.

The gang ate lunch under the canopy of the bread oven, and warmed themselves by the fire that we had burning in the stove out there. We invited them to hang out here until the wind died down, but this fearless and experienced group had a schedule to meet. They were headed to the Height of Land Portage on North Lake, and they couldn't afford to wait. So after refilling their water bottles, and expressing their gratitude, off they paddled , with the wind at their backs. As the afternoon progressed, the wind died down, and I assume that they safely made their destination.

For our part, we feel grateful to our neighbor, for without his boat being available, it would not have gone as smoothly. Thanks, John! You and Greg saved the day for a group of Boy Scouts from St. Paul!

Call Her Ms. Peel, Please

2010-07-22T21:50:00.005-05:00

This is our seventh summer of hosting pizza picnics at the bread oven. After all that time, we have a pretty good routine down. I roll the crusts, and Greg mans the peel. That means that he is responsible for putting pizzas into the oven, baking them, and then removing them before they burn. One of our guests calls him Mr. Peel, because he is so practiced it at. (Of course, that led to a whole conversation about the old television show called the Avengers, and who played Mrs. Peel, and all of that type of stuff. Funny where things can take you.) This set-up has worked well through the years, except when things get really busy, and Greg hasn't had a chance to make and eat a pizza for himself. That's what finally prompted him to make an exception, and allow for some help behind the tables. Enter Addie:

Tonight was her first experience at learning the peel. We had about forty people show up to enjoy some pizza delights, and Addie learned the fine art of pushing crusts in and taking out masterpiece pizzas. I could see her progress from some awkward first attempts to very smooth moves while keeping those little disks centered on the peel. Whoa, there's some red shoes again....do you think that they made a difference? Whatever it was, Addie now has yet another skill that she can add to her resume in the future---that of a budding pizzaiolo.

(Sorry for the short posts lately. Life's been really busy! You can tell by how late each day I get around to posting. I'll do my best to catch up one day soon.)

Off to the Races!

2010-07-21T15:28:00.003-05:00

Back in the day, a couple of fellows from the neighborhood used to get spiffed up when heading to the canoe races. Here are a couple of shots from two different race events:

And they're off!

Raising Kids in a Candy Store

2010-07-20T21:19:00.000-05:00

Does that title sound like a near-impossible feat? For a while, it felt like it could be. Our humble little store has always included several shelves of candy. Mostly we carry candy bars, and we also have ice cream treats and some various sodas on hand. Wouldn't that be a wonderful place for a kid to grow up? Little ones would think so.

Several years ago, I had a conversation with my then five-year-old nephew. He loved to go shopping, and felt that he didn't get to go often enough. Since he lived in California, and I hadn't seen him since he was very little, he really did not have any recollection of me, and had no idea of where I lived or what I did. When I told him that I lived in a store, his eyes got wide. I could almost see the intrigue going on in his mind, with visions of me living in a place like Target or Wal-Mart. Oh, how far from the truth!

But the reality of it was that, once we started to have children, we were raising them with candy on the shelves of their own living room/store. It was easy with the first one. We just didn't feed him any of it. He had no clue what it was all about. But by the time he was nearing two, he was just dying to find out what all those kids were getting from the shelves when they came in to the store. One day I caught Robert literally climbing the shelves like a ladder, just to investigate what was up there. The secret was out. A year or so later, Greg found a bag of candy under Robert's bed. He had taken one of our camping stuff sacks and had put some candy bars in it. When confronted by his father, he readily admitted to it, saying, "I eat them, and I love it." So much for keeping the secret from him.

What the oldest child has to discover on his own, the younger siblings just get to know by osmosis. Paul and Addie just seemed to always have known about candy, as I don't recall any moment when they didn't. Not wanting to totally admit defeat and call it a lost cause, I knew that I needed to come up with some way of controlling how much candy and treats they would consume, as well as how often I had to endure the pestering about it. So I landed on the idea of Tuesday treat night. Each Tuesday, they could ask for and receive one treat of their choice. Sometimes it was candy, sometimes pop. I noticed that some had favorites and other times it was purely random. For a while, I regularly stocked Reese's Nutrageous, as Paul seemed to gravitate towards those, while Robert was often an ice cream sort of guy. If they happened to forget that it was Tuesday, we occasionally relented and let Wednesday fill in. But if they were gone on some outing and missed it, they just had to wait until the next week. It worked well for me, and I figured that I had the situation nailed for the summer. Once fall returned, we could stop the treats until the next year. But that was not to be, they informed me, as this was to them a year-round gig. I gave in on that one. It seemed reasonable enough.

It must have worked, because through the years, there were relatively few cavities in our household. Paul gave up drinking soda altogether when he was thirteen, and Addie rarely had any herself. Robert may still like ice cream, and I do wonder if he has a particular hankering for it on Tuesday nights. For the most part, Tuesday treat night seems to be a thing of the past, but I am happy that for that time in our life, we were able to find a compromise that worked well for all of us.

Working the Bread Oven

2010-07-19T21:16:00.000-05:00

Some years back, in the time after the bread oven was built, Greg had cause to email Alan Scott, the builder/instructor who taught the class for our oven. Greg was asking about the thermocouples that are embedded in the firebrick and concrete. He told Alan that we still hadn't insulated the oven. Alan was surprised, and said that when we did finally do that, we would be quite pleased with the efficiency of it. Now that it is insulated, I can't agree more.

Through the years of baking and pizza making, it seemed that the ciabatta bread I make would always turn out the best. I guess I had nailed the recipe, and since it was the one that the family asked for most, that is what I continued to make. But last week, I ventured out and tried a different recipe, one that I have made several times in my inside oven. It is a honey wheat bread, with some beer in it, and has always been a good one. In the bread oven, it turned out even better.

My biggest challenge in the past, it seemed, was to get a decent crust on top of the loaf. I was looking for one that had a good "tooth" to it, but didn't make my own teeth hurt when biting into it. I found it in this recipe and the insulated oven. On Friday, we baked off a few loaves, and some cabin guests baked up some whole wheat bread. It all went quite smoothly, with no burnt crust, and the bottoms were a perfect golden color. Hooray for good bread!

It's probably time to start planning another pie-baking day, especially given the tremendous berries out there. If you are interested in joining us, leave me a comment, and I will pick a day that works. If your are staying with us sometime in the next month and want to bake something, let me know, too! This oven is much better when shared with the community.

Our final shot is our two little bread-baking helpers, as we took photos of each other. It was a fun time!

Sunday Photos

2010-07-18T16:28:00.001-05:00

Time for the Canoe Races!

2010-07-17T20:44:00.004-05:00

The canoe races are just around the corner, and I feel like I am in a race for time. I'm not training to paddle, but I am trying to finish a project. In addition to racing, the evening of fun includes a raffle and silent auction. I am working on a pair of hand knit socks to donate...and they are not done!

But that's not important. What is important, though, is to tell you about all of the fun of the races. This is a fund-raiser for the Gunflint Trail Volunteer Fire Department, and it has been happening for more years than I have been around the trail. In my early days up here, the races were held every other week, and hosted by different lakes. In the last several years, the Gunflint Lake homeowners have teamed up with the Seagull-Sag homeowners to put on a full evening of entertainment for the whole family. There are minnow races and games for children, a delicious sloppy joe dinner, some contests, and of course, the action of the races themselves. Three categories of races are included: the regular paddling, backwards paddling, and the broken paddle race. After those have concluded, there is gunnel-pumping, where the racer stands on the back of the canoe's gunnels and propels the watercraft forward by pumping with the legs. It's a hilarious race to watch, with many people ending up in the water. Overall, the whole gathering is a great time to socialize, cheer on the racers, and support the fire department.

But back to the raffle and auction. Each year, the organizers collect many donations of prizes, from gift certificates to handmade items, and put these all on display for the attendees to peruse, and possibly win. The collection is amazing. Sometimes we've been fortunate enough to win a few of the items. It's a lot of fun to hear the names of our friends and neighbors called out, and to watch them go up to collect their prizes. The evening is capped off with the big raffle, a Wenonah canoe.

Tickets are available now at several of the businesses, and you can purchase them on the night of the raffle as well. Put it on your calendars to attend, this Wednesday, July 21, as it is a wonderful evening.

A Very Windy Day

2010-07-16T15:48:00.000-05:00

To my ear, Gunflint Lake is one of the most quiet places on earth. Most nights, the sounds melt away, leaving us with only an occasional loon call or owl hoot. The days, while busy with many different sounds, still don't come near to the amount of audio stimulation I have when I am away from here. Even in Hawaii, I noticed it was much louder. The sound there that I noticed most was the ocean and the wind. The surf and the pounding of the waves were always in the background. It reminded me of a dull roar--the term my dad used to say to us when he wanted us to take things down a notch. "Hold it to a dull roar!" Yes, Gunflint Lake is one of the quietest places, except when the northwest winds blow.

Today is a very windy day. It came along yesterday, that sneaky west wind, relatively mild in the morning, but in full swing by early afternoon. It blew all day, calmed for a bit in the late afternoon, and then resumed while the pizza-making was at its busiest. The night was a blustery one, and by the time we got up, it was kicking up well. It's really not a problem for me, since most of my day is land-based. Heck, all of my day is such, since I've only been on the water about four times so far this summer. For the folks who are supposed to be out on the lake, today is a bad day.

Before the morning had fully started, we could hear voices down by the shore. I figured they were canoeists, trying to take advantage of the early hour in order to make it to the landing before the big waves rolled in. I've heard of people getting up and paddling at four a.m. sometimes, just to get the big water behind them before the winds became too strong. Sometimes folks will pull over on our beach, and call it quits here. We are about two-and-a-half miles from the public landing, and when you are fighting a 15-20 mph wind, that can feel like forever. These four canoes were determined. They soon were pulling past our main dock, making some decent headway, but wisely sticking close to shore. They definitely had their work cut out ahead of them.

Another group came by around eleven. These folks were still on land, with a plan to put in at our landing and head on east towards South Lake. But by that hour, the wind was really in full fury, with several large waves knocking on the dock and soaking the ramp. They consulted and contemplated, and finally compromised. They decided to find an alternate route east of here, one that would still allow them entry to South Lake, but didn't put them into harm's way. They likely evaded a good soaking by that choice as well. Not everyone was happy, but at least they could continue their trip.

It's interesting how the vacation we plan isn't always the one we face when we reach our destination. But with Mother Nature in charge to some extent, we must take what she sends our way. Plan B is a good thing to have, and in the process, those changes can sometimes bring the most unexpected surprises. We just have to be on the watch for them.

Eagle's Nest

2010-07-14T06:25:00.000-05:00

Summer Kids

2010-07-13T22:23:00.001-05:00

This happens to be a week when lots of kids are here, staying in cabins. During my first summer, it wasn't until mid-July that I heard the happy sounds of laughter, shouts of excitement, splashing at the lake--all those wonderful kid noises. I remarked to Sharlene that I didn't even know what was missing until they all showed up. But there definitely had been a void up to that point. I'm glad those days are back.

When our kids were younger, of course, we always had those noises around. Most of the time it was good, but occasionally we had to pull rank and call for some peace and quiet. I recently told someone the story of an early morning episode in which one of Paul's stuffed animals was being a bit too noisy for our tired ears. Paul was very good about supplying voice to all of his animals' thoughts. But before coffee, it was difficult for us to manage. This little animal was named Goldy, and we warned Goldy that he had to be quiet. It didn't work. After a few more admonitions, Greg got a miniature piece of duct tape, and carefully placed it over the embroidery stitches that comprised the little stuffed donkey's mouth. Oh my! Was Paul ever insulted over that one! He did learn, though, that his "old folks" needed quiet mornings in order to function the rest of the day.

I think that one of the best things about the old one-room schoolhouses was the fact that all ages of children had to be together each day. In theory, it seems like it would work well for the older kids to assist the younger ones, and for the little ones to emulate the big kids. In practice, it probably didn't always work that way, but a little influence must have rubbed off. It just seems best when there is a varied mix of ages around.

For that reason, I am so glad that we have a wide variety of ages of people in our neighborhood here on Gunflint Lake. It is not a typical and traditional neighborhood, since it is an area of seasonal residence for so many. But I value having neighbors who are in their senior years, as well as having babies and toddlers that we get to see on a regular basis. I think it keeps us all young.

My dad once related the story of traveling to a small town in Texas. He and my mom had promised friends that they would stay there for a few months in the winter that year, just to see what it was like. He said the hardest part was that it seemed like everyone was so old. It was all retired folks, some permanent residents, some just snowbirds. It was a community that welcomed children as short term visitors only. He said that finally one night, when they went out to dinner, the waitress was a woman in her late teens or early twenties. He said it was both a relief and a lot of fun to talk to a young person again. At that point, my folks had been raising kids for twenty-some years, and still had two daughters living with them at home. He couldn't imagine life with only old folks around all the time.

As I write this, darkness has fallen and the fireflies have come out. Our kids have gone to a campfire with friends, and all of the little ones must be tucked in for the night. It's very peaceful. But I am looking forward to tomorrow, when those little people have recharged their batteries and are running around outside, enjoying the nearly-endless days of summer.

The End

2010-07-12T22:22:00.000-05:00

Addie graduated this past month, the only member of her class. Does that make her the valedictorian? I suppose, though it is a class of only one. The important thing is that she has successfully completed her high school education, ending that chapter of her life. And now she is ready to begin the exciting part: She is headed to college at the University of Wisconsin-Stout, to study apparel design and development.

It's true, we are very proud of Addie and all of her accomplishments. In the same way that it was for her brothers, she truly earned her diploma in that she had to plan and carry out all portions of her classwork. As she put it on her blog profile, her parents are busy people, so she is basically self-taught. We oversaw what she was doing, gave lots of advice along the way, and enrolled her in an accredited school to keep an eye on things as well. She has an official diploma that she can stash away....as we all seem to do. The end.

It's the end in another way, too. We no longer have any homeschoolers in the house. For the last twelve years, someone was always homeschooling, and sometimes it was all three someones. They soon learned that schooling at home didn't necessarily stop in the summer. Robert also liked to point out how often I turned things into learning opportunities. "Even Christmas presents," he grumbled one year, when they opened a new game called Cranium. Never mind that it turned out to be a really fun game, and that Addie and her friends are playing it even as I write this. With a name like that, it must be about school and learning! But for the most part, I think that all three kids were very glad of the education each got. They not only studied all of their lessons, they learned about life as well. They got to command their own time schedules, and as a result, they were able to delve into their hobbies to a large degree. Hence, Addie was able to pursue her interest in textiles, fashion, sewing, and ultimately opened her own shop on the internet.

It's been a heck of a ride, and as I've mentioned before, the very best part was all of the time that we got to spend together. They still come home for the summer, and so we still work and play in the same place, at least for part of the year. I find myself doing less parenting, and more discussing of issues and such, as each makes his or her way into the arena of adulthood. I still scratch my head over how we got here so fast, but no sense in dwelling on it. Too much fun to still to be had, and too many memories yet to make. We've just added Addie's grad party to that list. On to the next great thing...for all of us.

Sunday Photos: the Raven Edition

2010-07-11T20:56:00.002-05:00

On a Walk with Mom:

My Good Side:

My Better Side (or is this my brother?):

Random Saturday Notes

2010-07-10T21:05:00.000-05:00

It's time for a random bits post, one that contains little notable items that are either not quite worthy of a full post, or may need a little more prep time than I have right now. So without further ado, and in no particular order, here is a list of what has been happening:

--It's been another lovely day on the weather front. The nights cool off into the high fifties, and the days warm up nicely into the seventies. Perfect for waterfront activity. Addie was again in the lake, having spent several hours the last few days slaving away in the kitchen.

--Why was Addie slaving in the kitchen? Because she was hard at work preparing for her high school graduation party, which we held yesterday. It was a lovely bash, complete with an amazing spread of miniature desserts. When I get the photos downloaded from Greg's camera, we'll put Addie and her party completely in the spotlight.

--Greg and I got to take a boat ride today, as he had a bit of work to accomplish on the west end of the lake. We spotted a large nest in a standing-dead white pine on the Canadian side of the lake, so we trolled closer to get a good look at it. Seems that eagles have taken up residence there, as one large one sat above the nest. I swear at one point that somebody poked a head up from inside the nest. This might explain why the eagle makes regular visits to our bay---He lives so close by that he can keep an eye on us. Many years ago, an eagle's nest could be viewed from the lake at the east end of Gunflint. That tree and nest went down in the blowdown storm in 1999. It's nice to have a new family in the neighborhood.

--Speaking of babies, the raven family has been coming by quite regularly. The babies are growing, but they remain as demanding as before. When I emptied the compost bin earlier today, I soon heard the call go up that the pickings were fresh in the pile. They still have their downy brown and white feathers on their chests, but the tail and wing feathers are beginning to mature.

--I was very happy that today was Saturday, particularly when the call came in that another rogue bear had to be put down. With the spectacular berry crop, it would seem that these guys could find plenty of food. Unfortunately, for some that is not the case. Just as in a classic psychotherapy situation, we blame it on the mom. If she habituates her babies to people and buildings, they never learn how to be true woods bears. The good news is that most of them do stay away from people. In the meantime, we have a bit more bear in the freezer.

--It's Robert's birthday today! Hard to believe that it has been twenty-three years since we brought home that wee little one, and now he has grown up to be a man of the north. He still resides in Alaska, and is quite happy with life up there. Happy Birthday, Robert! We miss you!

A Bit of Paint, A Dab of Varnish

2010-07-08T22:37:00.002-05:00

Yet another remodeling project has managed to sneak its way into our summer. Addie and I recently gave the back bedroom in Tamarack cabin a bit of a face lift. Roughly seventeen years ago was the last time I had done anything in there. Back then, I learned about installing wallpaper, but I didn't do anything with the log walls. They were still coated in the original paint, and I thought that it wouldn't be good to change the integrity of that first paint job. In the years since, however, I realized that something needed to be done, history or not.

You can see by the following picture that it was a shade of yellow that covered the log walls. The exterior had sported the same color way back in time....back in the day, as they say. But over the years, it had changed to a dull and drab color. I needed to freshen it, since I am the one who sees it the most, thanks to cabin cleaning chores. I decided on a basic white. Since we were removing the furniture in order to paint, Addie and I decided that it was also the perfect time to sand the old finish off the original pine floor, and then coat it with some fresh polyurethane.

All went well for both the sanding and wall painting. We were able to fill some cracks that let the daylight through. I added spray foam insulation to strategic locations. We got to see a wonderful floor emerge, complete with distress marks. And then we got to put the two coats of varnish on it, to really make it shine. Best of all, it only took a little over a week.

This remodeling stuff is a little addicting! Good thing I have so many locations in which to work....The list continues on, and I bet Greg is grateful that he doesn't have to do it all.

Sunset on Swamper Lake

2010-07-07T22:34:00.001-05:00

Blow Down Memories: Clearing the Road

2010-07-06T22:47:00.003-05:00

After twenty-four years of cabin cleaning, I find that I don't need to concentrate too hard on what I am doing in order to get the job done. This in turn frees up my mind to think about any number of subjects while my hands go about the chores. In a week like this, I find myself remembering our big blow-down storm in 1999. The interesting thing is that the calendar this year matches the days to the dates for the storm and its aftermath. Yesterday I thought about Monday after the storm, and today I thought about Tuesday after the storm. Seems rather crazy, but it keeps my mind occupied, and it reminded me that I should really write some of this stuff down, so that someday it will be there for my grand-kids to read.

We all have our own store of personal memories from big events and milestones in our lives. Something I've found interesting as the kids have gotten older is how their version of events and memories differ from mine. In particular, because of their respective ages at the time, their perspective is quite different from what I think that they would/should remember. To that end, at dinner tonight, I asked Paul and Addie what they recalled from the Monday following the big blow.

Monday, July 5, 1999 for Greg and me was about clearing trees off of our side road. We had spent the previous afternoon and evening attempting to restore a bit of sense to our own property by removing trees from driveways, paths, porches and cabins. We cleared enough to make things passable. The big clean-up and hauling away would have to wait. Paul said that for the most part, I had him stationed at home. He said that first and foremost, he remembered answering the phone....a lot. We still had guests in our cabins. Some were waiting for the road to be cleared, as they were scheduled to leave that day. Others had arrived by boat the previous night. They had been able to weave their way up the Trail by about seven p.m. (the storm had hit us at one in the afternoon), and had put their boat in at Gunflint Lodge. Since we had folks in house, I felt that someone needed to be at the front desk. Who would have thought that I'd leave my ten-year-old in that position of responsibility?

Greg had been using his Bobcat skidsteer to move trees around here at the lodge, so it seemed natural to just continue with it on up the county road. He would chainsaw, and then move the big logs. Robert and I followed and moved the smaller pieces of brush and such. I'm sure some of our guests were assisting us as well...I know that we had several "angels" who showed up at all the right moments that week. We got near the mailboxes, and at that point, we joined up with the neighbors from the Mile O' Pine road, to continue along the county road. It was a slow moving work train---chainsaw, push logs, haul brush, then move on to the next batch. At one point, we came to a power line across the road. No one wanted to touch it, fearing the unknown. Finally, our neighbor who was an electrician saw our hesitancy and assured us that it was a dead line, since none of us had had electric power since the previous day. Larry said to Greg, "Go ahead and touch it." Greg said, "No way until you touch it first!" So Larry did, nothing happened, and the work party continued.

On a run back to the lodge for food and water, I picked up Paul to come out and help. By then I was realizing the enormity of the moment, and really wanted him to be a part of it. The phone calls could wait. If we weren't there, they'd call back. Addie, in the meantime, had been hanging out with us, even though she was too young to do much work. She was seven at the time, and so she was mostly just playing with another girl who had been staying with her family at a cabin on the Mile O' Pine. Eventually, Celine's mom took them to their cabin, since they would have more fun there than just lingering on the road while everyone worked. That was for the best, as the work really was dangerous to a certain extent.

When that many people are working in such close proximity, with chainsaws buzzing and hands reaching in to toss the brush and move the logs, it really can get dangerous. We were all very lucky that only one minor accident occurred. One neighbor happened to nick his knee with his saw, just as the chain was winding down. It cut swiftly into the flesh, and suddenly, there he was with a real dilemma on his hands. He definitely needed stitches, but there was no way yet to drive out to the Trail to get to the emergency room. So he did the next best thing in a crisis like this. He went to visit our neighbor who was a retired physician. She was more than happy to assist him by cleaning and bandaging the wound, making it possible for him to continue on with all of us on the road. He took to tossing brush at that point, since all that bandaging limited his mobility.

By five in the afternoon, we were halfway down the three-mile road. At that point, we all were sweaty, sappy, and exhausted. But then we saw and heard the sweetest thing...on the other side of the next pile of downed trees was the county road crew and all of their big equipment. We yelled in excitement, paused to take a group photo, and then folks turned to head back to their cabins. We stayed a few minutes and talked to the road crew, to get a bit of perspective on what they had seen and heard. Then we, too, headed back to the lodge, to let the departing guests know that it was now clear to leave.

I think back now about that amazing effort of teamwork, how we all came together and each person found a way to contribute to getting the road cleared. I remember hearing the birds singing, continuing on with their day, as though not much had changed. We had a lot to contend with, experiencing a natural disaster like that, but we all were so fortunate, too. To this day, I think that everyone would agree that in its own way, it was one of the better experiences of our lives.

All Berries, All the Time

2010-07-05T22:49:00.003-05:00

It is going to be a serious berry year. Take a look at these two handfuls.

It's going to be one of those years, where you head out into the patch and all you see is blue, or red, or both, and you can't leave until all of that color is in your bucket, not on the plants.

We still have vacancies this week. Why not think about coming up to pick some of that blue gold, to bring home and stash in the freezer? What's better than blueberry pie in the middle of winter, to remind you of the warm summer days in the Boundary Waters?

Red & White & Blue, Blue, Blue

2010-07-04T06:07:00.000-05:00

Did Voyageurs Wear Red Shoes?

2010-07-03T14:02:00.002-05:00

The new museum, designed by the Split Rock Studio folks, features a number of kid-friendly displays. In particular, one caught the interest of our children when we recently toured the exhibits. Paul found the Voyageurs' story, and decided to try his muscle at lifting a simulation of a pack that those hardy early travelers routinely carried on their routes through the north country.
The caption behind Paul's shoulder asks, "Are you as strong as a voyageur?" Obviously, Paul stepped up to the task and found that yes, he was as strong as one of those guys, since he, too, could lift the equivalent weight.

Not to be outdone, Paul's dad decided to give it a try, and found that he could do it with one shoulder:
Finally, in the interest of equality and competitive spirit, our youngest voyageur took her turn at it, as well:

But what I want to know is this: Shouldn't extra points be awarded for accomplishing this feat while wearing these great red shoes? Let's see a real Voyageur do that!

Campfire Marshmallows and Memories

2010-07-02T19:31:00.000-05:00

It's been a lovely summer day, filled with warm sunshine, swimming and beach fun, some boating and canoeing. The only thing needed to make it complete is a campfire. Thanks to all of the rain that has fallen in the last month, we are able to have fires in the fire pits. The smell of the smoke and the sound of the conversation and laughter with a circle of friends is a comforting thing. What a great way to make memories! And really, that is what we should be doing as much as possible...having good times with family and friends to build a trove of memories.

As I was looking at the photos to include with this post, I was doing some reminiscing myself. A long long time ago, my family would often go camping in the summer. Holiday weekends were a favorite time to load the trailer and take off for some lake or state park here in northern Minnesota. One campfire incident at a campground in Brainard ended up becoming a family legend, one of those stories that has often been repeated. My younger brother and sister were sitting by the campfire, toasting marshmallows. As youngun's are wont to do, my brother was waving his stick around at one point, with no marshmallow, but a bit of hot coal on the end. He turned quickly and accidentally caught the stick's end right at the corner of my sister's eye. Fortunately, it only caused a very small burn, but it was traumatic nonetheless. Nancy was only about four at the time, but she knew enough about manners to spout off to everyone that Alan "didn't even say sorry or thank you or nothing!" and she was quite indignant about it.

I also remembered many campfires from my Girl Scout camp counseling days. Once a week, we could requisition the fixings for s'mores to have with the campers. We would prepare the candy bars and graham crackers into little "kits", ready and waiting for the roasted marshmallow to be sandwiched in between. After everyone had one, we would put all of the campers to bed, and then gather at the fire to eat the leftovers. We may or may not have rationed the campers in order to have our own fair share...just sayin'. We also came up with lots of wonderful additions to the basic recipe. A little peanut butter on the graham cracker or a few raspberries tucked in to the hot marshmallow are two of my personal favorites. Another good one--and healthy, too!--is to substitute apple slices for the crackers. Can s'mores and healthy even be used in the same sentence?

In the winter, when I walk the familiar paths, all covered in snow, I often pass the campfire rings. They look lonely and abandoned at that time of the year. It's sad. But at the same time, I know that they are in a resting period, so to speak. Soon the calendar pages will turn until before I know it, the fires are burning, the stumps are filled, and folks are laughing and having a good time. I like that full-circle thing.

Meanwhile, Somewhere in St. Louis...

2010-07-01T08:13:00.001-05:00

When is a cabin not a cabin? Probably lots of replies would fit that question. Today's answer is: When it is a recording studio. Back in October, the Erin Bode Group came up and transformed Birch cabin into a recording studio, so that they could work on their latest jazz album. The musicians are based in St. Louis, Tennessee, and California, but they all agree that the Northwoods is a great place to converge for a task such as this. They came with their cars and truck fully packed with instruments, speakers, components, and all sorts of other things of which I don't even know the names. One time, Bill, our local UPS man, delivered a big black set of something, clearly for the effort's success.

This was actually the second time they used Birch for this purpose. A year earlier, they had produced a Christmas album in August. They said that the layout worked well for what they were doing: each musician was set up in a room and all were connected by headphones, microphones, and wires...Lots of wires.

That album, A Cold December Night, ended up with a cabin on the cover, one that resembles Birch in a way, with a bit of artistic license thrown in.

Since I am not able to describe the music of this group, other than to say that it is fantastic, I will quote here from their website:

"The Erin Bode Group creates music forged from the Americana of its members' midwestern roots, infused with jazz grooves and made magic by Bode's bell-like voice. Sophisticated arrangements and attention to phrasing, both vocal and instrumental, further distinguish the band's fresh sound."

We have had the opportunity to hear Erin, Syd, Adam and Derek play live in Grand Marais. They have appeared at the Gunflint Tavern, and they performed at the Jazz Festival in 2008. Erin has longtime ties to the Gunflint Trail, and when we visited the museum the other night, we saw pictures of many of her relatives there.

When Erin called to book the cabin for the second album, my main concern was for the outside noise that would be happening here. Since it was October, it was firewood season. We had to keep working our way through the firewood pile, using the very noisy splitter, as winter was not far off. She assured me that it would not interfere, since things had worked so well in the previous year. Back then, my concern was that Moses the donkey would somehow find a way to get one of his songs on the album. Of course, that didn't happen, thank heavens.

During the latter part of their stay, Erin invited us over to hear a preview of the music. What a delightful time we had, listening to the tracks that they had accomplished. I got a quick look into the creative process of musicians, as they would critique each song as it was playing, notebook and pencil in hand. At the end of the song, they would say things like, "What was missing?" or "I think it needed --this-- in that particular spot." I was amazed that they could identify areas that they wanted to change, when to me, it already sounded spectacular.

So, back to St. Louis. Today happens to be the debut for the new album. If I were able to travel in a blink, I would love to be in that city today, to go to the release party. If someone out there in Missouri is reading this, you should go in my place. I know you'll have a great time!

I love that the album is titled Photograph. Be sure to visit the website, as you will be able to learn more about Erin and her group, and you can catch glimpses of some of the photos they took while they stayed here at Heston's. This one in particular really delights me. And be sure to listen to a few of her tracks. They are amazing!

A Trip to the Museum

2010-06-30T11:49:00.001-05:00

Two days of pies and blueberries makes me think that we need to change the subject away from food. All that pie is too much of a good thing!

As I mentioned briefly last night, we went up to the end of the trail for a preview of the new Chik-Wauk Museum, on Lake Saganaga. Words to describe it are hard to find, as it certainly surpassed my expectations. I knew that the team of volunteers had been working hard for five year, and that Chris and his crew were doing a fantastic job, but to see it all come together into such a beautiful place was astounding. If this isn't on your vacation-to-do-list yet, write it down immediately! It is so worth the trip.

Because it was dinnertime, and I hadn't yet made dinner, we didn't spend a lot of time there. But one definitely could do so, as the exhibits alone are finely detailed and contain paintings, photographs and artifacts galore. They cover the full range of Gunflint Trail history, from geology and voyageurs, to pioneers and modern-day folks. In addition to the displays, books and collections line the shelves waiting for perusal. It is not an exaggeration to say that you could spend a whole week there, and still find new things to see.

One activity that we didn't venture to are the hiking trails right on site. They are marked, and I imagine a map is available to guide you. Last year, Greg and I were assigned to plant trees at Chik-Wauk for the Gunflint Green-up. Someday when I am hiking up there, I plan to check on the progress of the little seedlings. The bay that the museum overlooks is quite picturesque, and it looks like it would make a terrific picnic spot.

The museum also hosts a lovely little gift shop, with a wonderful selection of shirts and handmade gifts. I recognized the work of some of my fellow fiber guild members, so you can definitely find items that are locally produced.

The grand opening is Sunday, July 4th. That also happens to be the eleventh anniversary of our blowdown storm. How lucky for us that we are all still here, able to acknowledge the history, both old and not-so-old, in such a great manner. It will be an amazing legacy for years to come.

Greg's Five Minute Adventure/The Berry Update

2010-06-29T21:37:00.000-05:00

Wow, sometimes the day just gets away from me. Cabin cleaning in the morning, a trip to town in the afternoon, a quick run to the end of the trail to check out the new museum....and suddenly it's time to make dinner and the blog post isn't done. I wanted to share the goodness of the blueberries with you all.

Greg had his own five minute adventure on the way back from work yesterday. He stopped on one of the forestry roads near Seagull Lake, and scouted out the berries for this week's blueberry update. Within a few minutes, he had found several nice ones, but he said that most of them are still green. But what was most impressive was the size. It looks on par with the blueberry crop of the summer of 2008, one year after the Ham Lake Fire. He feels that it will still be about a week to ten days before the harvest is in full swing. But for hardy, intrepid pickers, you could probably find enough for a batch of blueberry muffins or to sprinkle into your pancakes in the morning. Time to start picking!

Pie Time

2010-06-28T14:05:00.000-05:00

Friday was Pie Day here at Heston's. Following the success of the blueberry pie on Father's Day, I decided to experiment with baking a run of similar pastries. I wanted to tweak the temperature a bit, as much as is possible with a wood-fired oven. And I got brave and invited our neighbor Shari to join me. I still have a moment of pause when putting other peoples' baked goods into the oven, especially when it is an experiment like this was. What if I burn them? That always runs through my head.

Shari was game and willing to trust me, so she came over with a rhubarb cream pie, and an apple pie. I had prepared two strawberry-rhubarb pies, and with the left over crust scraps, I made a blueberry tart. When I checked the oven, the surface temp averaged about 500 degrees. We bravely put the pies in, and then sat down to wait with a cold beverage and some chips and salsa. The day had been rainy, but the evening was pleasant. The moisture was done, and the temp held enough to sit outside comfortably. Other neighbors had stopped by, too, and so we enjoyed some lively conversation while keeping an eye on the clock.

After about twenty minutes, we checked the tart. Since it was a smaller, shallower pan, I figured it would be done first. It needed just a bit longer, so we left it in there. Some of the pies were showing signs of quick browning on the crusts. We covered those with foil tents, so they wouldn't get burned. Fifteen minutes later, the blueberry tart was done, and the apple pie, too. Not long after, the strawberry-rhubarb pair was ready, and finally, the rhubarb cream pie was puffing up nicely, and so we pulled it out, too.

My main concern was that the heat from the oven's hearth might burn the bottom crust of the pies. Since we needed to check on that right away, we tried the blueberry tart. I needn't have worried, for it was dry and flaky, and just the right color. We cut the tart and ate it in no time. The blueberry filling was done to perfection.

My rhubarb pies waited til the next day to be sampled. I have to admit that I've never been much of a pie baker....One time, Robert went over to Sharlene's to learn how to make them. I wasn't making pie often enough for his taste, so he took the matter in to his own hands. He came home with a beautiful apple pie and presented it to me as a birthday gift from him and Gramma. Wasn't that sweet? The rhubarb pies from the bread oven were great--just the right balance of sweet and tart that we expect from that particular fruit.

Future plans include a pie day at least once a month, and hopefully a pie social sometime this summer. I'm on the lookout for other interested bakers to join me. I'll do my best not to burn anything...so far so good. Care to join me? Just drop me a note or leave me a comment. I'll let you know the next time the oven is ready!

Paul's Discovery

2010-06-27T15:44:00.000-05:00

Awakened by the Baby

2010-06-26T11:29:00.002-05:00

In these long days of summer, light gathers around 5 a.m. Rarely do we get up at that moment. But since we choose to not have curtains on our windows upstairs, if loud sounds occur, the combination of the two jar us awake. Today, the baby woke us up.

Wow, it's been a lot of years since I said that. Of course, in this case, it was a baby outside, and it happened to be one of the immature ravens. They have taken the scene by storm, and we are so enjoying observing them. The pair will land in our parking lot, and we'll notice the parents hanging back, perched on a truck bed or up in a tree. The adults observe the little ones and send out a gentle croak now and then. If one strays too far away, the elder will fly off to get it, and occasionally a scolding takes place. Most of the shouting matches come from the little ones themselves, however. They still go up to their mom, and scream--and I do mean Scream--at her with their beaks wide open. Demanding little cusses, I'd say.

It brought to mind the time some years back when our friend Nathan brought his little charge up here one weekend. He had rescued a baby bird that had been abandoned, and brought it into the house. His mom let him set it up in a box, and Nathan took on the task of nursing it. He named him Charlie, I believe, and set about learning the care and feeding of a baby bird. Charlie was a hungry little dude, and Nathan was kept very busy tracking down food for him. He was quite patient through the process, and answered every cry, no matter what time it occurred. When the family was scheduled to come up here, not long after the adoption, Nathan brought him along, hoping that we would take mercy on his plight and bend the no-pets-rule. How could we say no? Charlie stayed not-so-quietly in his box. Nathan continued to get up at all hours of the day and night to feed him. It was a good eye-opener to the clamorous ways of a fledgling.

While these ravens have not set up residence in a box right inside the lodge, sometimes I think they would like to. Yesterday, as I walked down the road, having picked up the mail, Junior was eyeing me up. I stopped, and he approached me. He came within five feet of my side, and then circled to the back. He came closer then, just four feet off, and I pondered the size of his beak. Although I've referred to them as babies and juveniles, in reality, they are nearly as large as their parents. The main difference is that their coloring is still a mottled brown on the upper part of the body. The wing and tail feathers have come in as a sleek black. This guy came so close, I could see that its brown feathers were still the downy baby feathers. It probably won't be long before we can't distinguish the age of any of them.

Greg got up this morning when the ruckus began, and looked out the window to see if the noisy one was visible. I shouldn't say noisy, as he was quietly speaking in that secret raven language that I would love to understand. Sure enough, he was down in front, happily playing with a crushed cedar log. He would pick up pieces, toss them around a bit, nudge them on the ground, and repeat the process. Is this universal? I recall my children doing similar actions. We've watched the siblings pick up sticks and play tug of war, and we've seen them fight over bits of food...those pizza crusts I talked about the other day. It's interesting to see their movements, imitating the actions of the parents, most likely, but in a tentative way. They are learning to use
their feet to hold down an object, while using their beaks to pry it apart. All the time, the parents perch and observe, as do we, I guess. So it's a learning experience for us all.

No sense in naming these guys, as soon they will look like all the other ravens that we see passing by. We do know where they live, in a large white pine near the gravel pit. Time will tell how friendly they continue to be.

*Photo credits to Addie--awesome shots!

Peg's Books

2010-06-25T21:43:00.001-05:00

Today, while fact-checking on a name for a friend, I happened upon some things that had belonged to Gramma Peggy. After she passed away, Sharlene asked if I wanted some of her books to put into cabins. These included two written by Justine Kerfoot, an anthology edited by John Henricksson, and a hardcover copy of Snowshoe Country by Florence Page Jaques. All are excellent cabin books--on the shelf or end table, they are perfect for perusing while on vacation in the woods. Some I had read, some I hadn't, and now I am determined to read them all, straight through, just as I am doing with John's book that I recently mentioned.

The nice thing about these books, as John put it to me, is that you can just pick them up and read a chapter at a time. A little slice of northwoods living, written in someone else's words, can be just the thing to put a person into a relaxed state of mind. If one can actually be in the woods at the time, well then, all the better. It makes the experience richer, to look out the window and gaze at the exact same scenery and wildlife as you are reading about. How cool is that? Better than virtual reality, hands down.

Peggy's books from Justine were inscribed to her. I've been in many a used book store, and have seen books similarly marked. Of course, they were meaningless to me, and in a way it seemed sad that a gift like that would end up in such an impersonal location. Yet, I realize that we cannot hold onto everything that we've been given, because we end up with too much. So it is right to send them to a venue where someone new can find them and derive enjoyment from them. That's the whole idea behind reuse and recycle. I just get a little sentimental at times. The memories that we have from giving a gift, or from reading the book, should be enough to hold on to, rather than the object itself.

Actually, I find myself trying to focus on that principle more and more these days. I probably will never get around to re-reading everything that I think that I will. And if I do want to, the internet makes it easy to locate those old titles. In the meantime, I know that it will be a rewarding experience to hold and read the same copy that Peggy once held, as I am reading stories about her woods. And there may even be a mention of her in some of those pages. I
think that I will definitely be keeping at least some of these original copies, as someday my grandchildren--Peg's great-great grandchildren--may want to read them, too.

Collections

2010-06-24T19:47:00.000-05:00

Collections....I read recently that nearly everyone has one of some kind. Though I don't want to admit it, I probably do have one myself, of yarn and fabric and beads. It's my stash, but it could be classified as a collection as well.

When I was on garbage detail the other day, I took a look at the walls and realized that the beer bottle collection had grown to epic proportions. Greg started this group of souvenirs long before I knew him. At one point after we were married, he thought about recycling the whole lot, mainly for lack of a place to display them. The boys were against it, so he hung on to them. Time came to build a new shed for the garbage and recyling cans, and he realized that it would also be a great place to display all of the beer bottles.

For several years now, these have graced the shelves. Occasionally they stir up some conversation, and once in a while we find a new bottle added to the group. Mostly, I don't notice them, since I head in to drop off bags, or to sort the sacks of bottles, cans and plastics headed for the recycling trailer.

But the other day, the light shining in the windows was just right, and it made me take another look. I had to snap a few photographs, as a result. It's fun, having things like this in unexpected places. It makes sense for a bottle collection to be in this shed. The only downside is that it's not the nicest place to linger to study things over. But an upside to it is that I don't have to worry about dusting all those bottles off!

Model Butterflies

2010-06-23T14:32:00.000-05:00

The butterflies are out and about....and and sometimes they land in places that make it easy for me to photograph them. Yesterday I spotted a luna moth on Birch cabin, and last evening, a white admiral posed for me on the screen porch.

I actually had to look up the latter butterfly. Maybe, like birdwatching, this will become an area of continued interest for me. And once I have the butterflies down, I can tackle the many moths that show up. Already from reading the guidebook, I know I have seen some of them, just not recently. So many things to see, so many things to learn.

Summer Lovin'

2010-06-22T08:55:00.000-05:00

Though it shouldn't matter, something about the calendar officially registering the start of summer yesterday has actually made it feel more seasonal. The temperature got up into the seventies, it was humid while I was mowing the lawn, and the sun was with us for a large portion of the day. The length of the day stretched out nicely, though the cloudy skies in the evening prevented an extended dusk. Still, it was definitely a good midsummer.

One unusual sight prompted me to grab the camera and head to the lake. Not far off the end of our main dock, I saw three mature loons swimming along together. I left my lunch on the screen porch, and was able to make it to the dock at Tamarack without upsetting the trio. They continued their fishing/swimming expedition, while I snapped a few quick photos. Tiring of the model mayhem, they dove and went out for deeper waters. Later in the day, I heard a report of a baby loon seen on its mama's back, somewhere on the lake. Unfortunately, I still have not had the pleasure of seeing that.

But it is baby season, or in this case, juvenile. The raven pair that has taken up serious residence here at Heston's came in yesterday to get a better look at the garbage bags I was loading in to the pick-up. When I turned my back, two more flew in , so I was a bit surprised when I saw the four looking over at me. (Shades of Hitchcock's The Birds?) As I went about the task of gathering cardboard to recycle, they kept trying to get to a garbage bag, undoubtedly to tear it open and scatter the contents. We've see them do this in about three minutes. With four of them, they could go for a new record. To their chagrin, I finished my packing, and was off to dispose of the load at the canister site. I did toss them a token dead mouse, found in an empty garbage can. They were on it in seconds. Hungry little dudes, I guess.

Later in the day, Greg scattered a handful of pizza "bones" out in the parking lot. I call them bones, but they are the end crusts from the slices. Not caring to eat them himself,he used to save them as a treat for Moses. Now they get tossed out for the ravens or squirrels or whatever lucky scavenger might happen upon them. Soon the foursome of ravens was back. We were able to get a closer look at them, and realized that two are immature. They must be the offspring of the original pair. Addie has been grumbling a lot lately about the amount of ruckus these birds cause at about six a.m. each day. So she was initially not pleased to see the new additions. It didn't take long for her to be won over. Who can resist babies? She sneaked out the side door, armed with the big camera, and was able to take some close-ups of the kids. They were a hoot to watch, as they teased each other. One would grab a crust, and the other would steal right out of the beak of its sibling. Then mom would pick one up, and the two little ones would rush over and caw loudly with their beaks wide open. "Feed me, Mom! Feed Me Now!" We could almost hear them demanding it. At one point, she actually did feed the morsel to the cantankerous one. Paul asked me if he had ever acted that way. I said not quite. The young ones have a mottled brownish black coloring on their feathers, and they seem a bit unsteady on their feet. They tend to dance around a lot. But when it's time to follow their parents, they have full command of their wings. Pretty cool to watch.

So for the next ninety-three days, we get to enjoy summer. How will you be spending it?

The Best Berries

2010-06-21T08:53:00.000-05:00

Where are the best berries? Sometimes we hear that during the picking season. Ever since the Ham Lake Fire, folks from near and far have been able to enjoy all the glory of a fantastic blueberry season. It's interesting to me that in the aftermath of a fire, which causes so much devastation, can be something so grand as a marvelous berry crop. Just another one of those silver linings, out there waiting for us if we are of the mind to look.

Friends up towards the end of the trail emailed me on the weekend to let me know that they had picked a handful of ripe berries while out on a walk that day. They estimated that in about ten days, a lot of them would be ripe. Time to get those buckets and baskets ready....Greg is doing so. He looks forward to the solitary time when he is out in the woods, on the hunt to fill his bucket. Maybe he gets that from his mom, because she is a blueberry-picking champ. Sometimes she will bring a whole bucket over to us, a gift of extraordinary proportion. She will tell us that she has enough in her freezer, but she so enjoys the activity, that she wants to share it with us. Needless to say, we never turn them down.

As a kid, my family would occasionally go on berry-picking adventures. A mile from our home in Duluth was Hartley Field. It wasn't a nature center back then, it was just a patch of woods full of raspberry bushes. We would head out and work to fill our little containers, while listening to my dad tell stories of the place. He grew up in the same neighborhood, and would spend time there when he was a kid. There was an old structure on the property, like a half-buried root cellar. He told us that it was the potato house, and that there were holes on the top of it, for airflow, I presume. We were constantly warned to watch out for these holes, so as to not fall into the potato house. I did not want to do that, for sure, as it looked dark, damp, and loaded with spiders whenever we passed by its open doorway.

The best berries back then, we often found, were not at Hartley, but actually up towards Brimson. We would pack a picnic and drive up there for a Sunday afternoon. Imagine this: a family of ten (my youngest sister wasn't born yet), all spilling out of the station wagon, fanning out to the nearby bushes, to gather the ripe fruit. I picture it a bit like migrant workers. We would work hard for several hours, filling and refilling our containers, and then we would have a classic picnic on a blanket, a bit of relaxing, before heading back home. Afterward, my mom would spend hours over the pans of berries, cleaning out all the leaves and sticks that inevitably were mixed in. We weren't necessarily clean pickers at that age. The jam that she would make was a treat we enjoyed throughout the winter. That's probably where I got my love of raspberry jam.

But back to that question: Where are the best berries? Almost anywhere you go, up towards the end of the trail, will lead to at least a few bushes. Most serious pickers will not reveal their favorite locations, so one just has to get out there and start exploring. But yesterday, the answer to that question was a bit different. I think the best berries were right in front of us. Addie and I collaborated on a blueberry pie, in honor of Father's Day. A beautiful slice, fresh from the bread oven, on a plate in front of me, was where I found the best berries. Topped with a scoop of Addie's homemade vanilla ice cream, we all agreed, it doesn't get any better than that.

A Day for the Dads

2010-06-20T15:47:00.004-05:00

Happy Father's Day wishes to all of the dads out there! May you have a wonderful day, full of relaxation and only good things. A toast to you for all the hard work you do.

Stormy Ride

2010-06-19T05:55:00.000-05:00

CRACK! The thunder and lightning struck simultaneously as we sat down to dinner. I shuddered at the sound, my thoughts on Paul. Earlier, he had crossed the lake to help celebrate a friend's birthday, but was due home for supper. At twenty-one, he is an extremely responsible guy, but still, the mom instincts in me came forward. I hadn't discussed weather issues with him before he left. Would he stay put? Would he watch the sky and make a break for it? Did he know that lightning can strike up to fifteen miles away? All this crossed my mind, and we discussed it as we ate. It is hard, as a parent, to shake a feeling of helplessness.

Parenting in the Northwoods has been a privilege and a challenge. I suppose that is true wherever one chooses to live, but sometimes it feels like our situation is a bit more unusual than most. Magazine articles can only tell one so much when it comes to deciding what to teach your children, or how to discipline them when they are young. Tried and true experience, also known as trial and error, is probably the best guide. In this case, I was counting on all of the many years of conversations about being in this situation to be Paul's guide.

Still, my mind was restless. I went upstairs with my knitting, while Greg watched a movie in the store. I had my window open, and my ear cocked for the sound of the outboard. How many nights have I done this, I thought? Before the fire in 2007, the kids would take a boat across to enjoy campfires with their friends. Instead of waiting to hear the car pull into the driveway, like most parents do, I would listen for the sound of the motor, skimming the boat over the water. Tonight, it was hard to discern the sounds. It was a mix of the wind, the rain, the distant thunder, the movie downstairs, and the fans blowing in various corners of the lodge.

At one point, I was certain I could hear him. The rain had paused, and the wind was down a bit. I stuck my head out the window, listening carefully. Was that a buzz in the distance? Downstairs, Greg had paused the movie, and we walked down to the landing. A shred of light was left to the day, and we watched the grey haze on the horizon. No sound. As the raindrops again picked up, we headed back up the hill, me to my knitting and Greg to his show.

Half-an-hour later, I definitely heard the motor. I hopped up and ran to the window. I swore I heard the motor cut, and that the boat was at the ramp. Waiting by the window, I scanned the land below, watching for Paul's silhouette. After what seemed to be too long a time to wait, I went downstairs to go out and see for myself. As I reached the landing, Paul emerged from the shadows. He was soaking wet, and none too happy.

He had waited for what seemed like the right opportunity to head out onto the water. Once out there, the wind proved to be more of a factor than he had expected. He chose to follow the Canadian shoreline until he was directly across from the lodge. At that moment, the motor died. He began to paddle, and the waves lapped the stern, sending water into the boat. He looked about for a bailer, but only had the coffee mug that he had brought along. Between
paddling against the wind, bailing, and attempting to start the motor up, he was having a tough time. Finally, after several pulls, the motor caught, and he was able to start south. By then, he was west of the lodge, and when he got close to the south side of the lake, he saw a cabin light. He realized that he needed to change direction, but once again, the motor quit. The wind continued to push him west, but he prevailed and got the thing started up. At that point, he made a beeline for home. Turns out that I had heard him that first time, when he was headed across the lake. I was looking for him in the wrong direction. But here he was now, and I was extremely grateful.

Next time he heads off like this, we will have that talk about lightning. I may even take the time to check the weather and radar maps on the internet. I know that if all of this were happening in the town where he lives most of the year, I would have no way to know of it, nor any way to worry. But when it's happening right here, that old mom instinct cannot be shrugged. Guess I just have to live with that--and so does he.

Five Minute Adventures

2010-06-18T08:35:00.002-05:00

On my way home from Grand Marais the other night, I decided to have a five minute adventure. Near the North Brule River, a small road leads to the site of an old CCC camp. It is a part of the Superior National Forest, and it seems the current use for it is storage. Just past an iron gate, a large open area hosts culverts, picnic tables, and other big objects. The river runs along the far edge of the property. The reason I am familiar with this spot is that I had a chance to go birding there two years ago. I was with a group of fellow trail folks, led by two experienced birders. We were in the area listening and watching for the various birds that prefer a river-based habitat. As I recall, we were successful, as we saw a phoebe and an olive-sided flycatcher.

But this particular evening, I wasn't necessarily birding. I decided to have a five-minute adventure, and just stopped in to see what was happening in that neck of the woods. I was not disappointed. At my feet were thousands of twin flowers. The delicate pink and white blooms hung from slender stems, carpeting the forest floor. A few steps later, the bunchberry plants did the same thing. These were thick on the land, and I could only imagine how it will look in a few weeks when the white flowers are replaced with striking red berries.

I continued on a short way, and the meadow opened up wide. On my left, the yellow hawkweed was in full color. On my right, a patch of orange hawkweed, though not as large, wanted to show off as well. This is an absolutely wonderful time to be out and about looking for wildflowers, as evidenced by this short outing. All the recent rains are paying big dividends right now.

I headed back to the car, since my groceries were warming up and dinner still needed to be made. If I'd had more time, I would have hung around to listen for the birds, or to go down to the river to explore. But that can wait for another time. It will still be there.

Five minute adventures are a great concept. In just those few moments, I saw so many things. It's true, I probably could find them on my own property, but seeing these little beauties in an unfamiliar landscape seemed to enhance them. Stealing that time from my own schedule felt a little decadent, but I need that every now and again. Can five-minute adventures be a little luxury?

One way to have them, if you are unable to leave home and find a piece of woods as I did, can be found through a website I've been following for several years. It is called Morning Earth. The owner, John Caddy, is a naturalist and educator. He daily posts a photograph and poem that he has written. You can have them delivered to your email, or you can follow him on Facebook, or just click on to his website. Each morning, I am greeted with a photo that John has taken, somewhere in his neighborhood or from his travels. I've seen some incredible shots, thanks to him. The poems to accompany these pictures are informative, humorous and thought-provoking. Whether you enjoy reading poetry or not, it is worth the time to check out his site. Each day, you could have a five-minute adventure, right from your computer.

A Quiet Morning

2010-06-17T12:17:00.000-05:00

Summer mornings on the porch can be an incredible way to start the day. Lots of peace and quiet, and a bit of nature noise mix to be just the right balance. This was one of the first mornings that the weather has been near perfect. Finally the sun is peeking out, the temperature is in the sixties and the mosquitoes are not too thick. (In general, they have not been a problem at all. Usually at this time of the year, they cluster all over our screens in the mornings. I've not seen many.)

So a cup of tea in the early day and a good book were all I needed to get things started properly. The book I am currently reading is The Gunflint Cabin, by our neighbor, John Henricksson. It is a recounting of cabin life in our neighborhood here on Gunflint Lake, and in general of the cabin tradition in Minnesota. I was smiling in parts, as I read of folks I know, and stories both old and new. Overall, a good way to get going. The white-throated sparrows, chickadees, blue jays and warblers provided just enough background music. A loon gave a shout-out. All was peaceful, until I noticed an extra level of buzzing.

Bald-faced hornets love to build nests in the most inconvenient places. I think they are rather like beavers and their dams in that respect. For many years, some very industrious beavers kept a good dam built up on Little Gunflint Lake. The lake narrows down to a river-wide passage, and the water is shallow there. The beavers live in a large house on the Canadian side, and they find it necessary to dam up the water in order to keep their house at a respectable level of submergence. At least, that is what I think. That, and the fact that beavers just love to stay busy. They would cut and haul one tree after another to close up the channel. Folks in boats and canoes would have to push, pull and sometimes get out of the watercraft, in order to cross over the dam. Definitely under the "inconvenient nuisance" category.

The hornets just happen to like places that are inaccessible for humans like me, but are still a little too close for my comfort. While sitting in my chair, I looked up to see an active hive, with three or four hornets working on it. It was right above my head. For a short time, we struck up a truce, with me continuing to read and sip tea, and them buzzing about doing their construction work. But when Greg decided to come out and join me, they didn't agree with the changes to the terms. Pretty soon a sentinel came to check us out, flying all around, and in particular, behind us. I tried to sit frozen for the most part, especially when the buzzing would quit and I knew that he had landed. When he lighted on the porch floor in front of Greg, he had made his fatal mistake. With a quick landing of the foot, he was a goner. The guys up above buzzed louder with the reverberations. They didn't venture down to us, though. Maybe they learned something?

At any rate, this evening the hive will be no more. When clearing out a problem like this, nightfall is the best opportunity. It doesn't have to involve chemicals or complete clothing coverage, as the critters are fairly harmless after dark. Tonight we'll knock down the hive, and the workers will need to find new living quarters. Then my mornings on the porch can continue in relative peace and safety.

Bass on a Stick

2010-06-16T10:29:00.004-05:00

One of my favorite things is when kids catch fish, big or small. This is an older photo of my nephew, proudly showing off his bass, which literally was caught on that stick. He was up to visit with his family. They rigged up poplar branches with hook and line, and fished right from the dock. Sam impressed me a lot with his skill in landing this fellow. For other, more experienced fishermen, this may not have qualified as a keeper, but in my book, it was.

We've had an assortment of fishing folks in this past week, and it has been a challenge. The weather was not really in our favor, as many days brought rain. Since the water level remains low, it was a lot of work to get up in to North Lake. Once there, it seemed that fishing was best for northern and small-mouth bass. The trout and walleye have been hiding more than usual. One family has been exploring new territory by trailering their boat up to Seagull, and learning about a different lake. It's all an adventure.

Even with the rainy days, folks seem pretty happy. It really is true, the worst day of fishing is still better than the best day at work. Sitting around the campfire last night, we had a great time re-telling the fishing stories of the past. It all helps to create new memories, things to add to the library of good times. It's those moments that sustain as we continue onward.

Things We Saw on Our Vacation

2010-06-15T06:11:00.001-05:00

As remarkable as it might seem, sometimes extraordinary things just aren't happening on Gunflint Lake. What is a blogger to do then? Well, in my case, I am going to post some more pictures of our recent trip to Hawaii. One of my loyal readers commented that she has been waiting to see some of these photos, so here is another sampling.

As I was going through my album, I was again reminded of how we Minnesotans love water. I thought about a trip that my boys and I took in 2004, down to the high desert of New Mexico. We were intent on backpacking, which went fine, until the stream we were following ran dry. At that point, we decided it was time to head on back out. It just feels natural for us to be near a body of water. The ocean, as seen above, is a major body, no doubt about it. I've visited the Pacific and the Atlantic before, but had never really gone swimming in either, and hadn't done any snorkeling. It took some getting used to, as well as becoming comfortable with salt water. I didn't realize how spoiled I am to live on such a great freshwater lake as Gunflint. The ocean was warmer than our lake, but I was surprised that it wasn't as warm as I expected.

Probably because we traveled in a bus for so many years, these vehicles are near and dear to our hearts. We always notice them on our journeys, and quite often take pictures of them. Though we did not buy a smoothie from this vendor, we did enjoy those tropical fruit delights in other places.
I often say, when asked why I would want to leave Gunflint Lake to vacation elsewhere, that it is to see other peoples' trees. We were not disappointed. These are painted eucalyptus, an amazing tree. There does not seem to be any bark as we know it, and they have vivid colors growing right in their trunks. Definitely not like any we've ever seen before.
Without a doubt, the most exciting part of the trip for me was to see the whales. I should probably write a separate post about that, though I think I'll wait until I can use some of our friend Ruth's photos to illustrate it. This is the best I could do for a tail shot...

Finally, for now, this flower's structure makes me sigh with the perfection of its beauty. I love the spiral of the petals. My eye follows it around to the tight inner circle, and I am truly amazed. I don't even know what it is called, but it has me spellbound.

More pictures in a few days, unless something big happens around here!

A Paddling Sort of Moment

2010-06-14T14:48:00.002-05:00

If it is a dead-calm moment on Gunflint Lake, it's best to quickly grab a canoe and seize the opportunity. That is exactly what we did on Saturday night, after making pizza in the bread oven. I looked down at the lake, and asked Greg what he was doing. I told him that it was time for us to slap the stickers on the Wenonah, and take it for a quick spin. He bought the canoe several years ago at the North House's boats-to-tools auction. As far as my memory serves, I could only recall taking one short ride in it. Last year, I renewed the license, and never even got around to putting it on the craft. Now that's bad. I wasn't going to let that happen again this year.

He found the wooden paddles, we dusted the cobwebs off of the canoe, and launched from the side of the dock. It was so peaceful as he steered us towards the point, and then around. Suddenly, though, I could feel the power in his paddle strokes, as we began to lunge forward. I picked up the pace from my own rather relaxing paddling, and I asked if we were suddenly in a race. He said no, it just felt really good to be out there. Just ahead, I could see a loon, and we headed in its direction.

We are so fortunate to hear the loons often throughout the summer. I also get to observe them swimming near the main dock, or past the beach when I am walking by. If I get out on the lake, it is usually by motorboat, and the loons are off in the distance. What a treat, then, to be able to drift near this fellow. He circled us several times, and uttered a few soft calls. With the aid of my zoom lens on the point-and-shoot camera, I was able to get a fairly adequate shot of him. Then he headed off to the north, and we turned towards home.

We continue in the pattern of cloudy, grey skies, occasional showers, and cooler temps. But while we were out on the water, none of that mattered. The moment of quiet, surrounded by the shores of Gunflint Lake was enough to make me forget all about the weather, and just enjoy the riches literally at my doorstep.

Stuff to Do in the Rain

2010-06-13T06:17:00.000-05:00

What to do in the rain? How about some hiking....

Check out the waterfalls....

Have a picnic!

Photograph the wildflowers....
(By now you know that these pictures were not taken on the Gunflint.)

Eat unusual things wrapped in banana leaves. This is coconut-sweetened rice with taro in the center. Greg really liked the taro, especially the poi.

Why let a little rain stop you from having a good time?

Rainy Day Fun

2010-06-12T13:33:00.001-05:00

The rainy weather yesterday inspired us to take a trip to Grand Marais. Since we couldn't do much outside work, it seemed like a good time to run the errands that were waiting on the perpetual town list. Before leaving, we launched a boat, and while we were pulling it up at the beach, we got to see the eagle come flying in. We were partially hidden by the trees, so he didn't see us right away. That allowed for a fairly close fly-by, and excellent sight of the eagle dropping his "landing gear" so that he could settle on a shoreline rock. No matter how many times I see these guys, it is always a thrill to experience their size and wingspan up close.

Rain on a vacation is probably one of the last things people picture in their minds as they are planning their trips. Imagine sitting around in mid-winter, drawing out the plans for a BWCA trip or cabin visit, and seeing rain in the images that come to mind. It just doesn't happen. That's because when we are thinking about it, we can choose whatever weather we want! While Greg and I were thinking about and reading up on Hawaii, we only saw sunny skies, blue oceans and sandy beaches. Fortunately, we had those for the majority of the trip, but we also had some days of rain. Imagine that--we all know it rains in Hawaii, of course, but certainly not while we are there! By the way, tomorrow I will post a few pictures of what we did on the island when it was raining. Like most folks, we didn't let the weather stop us.

But back to the Gunflint Trail. It's grand when it doesn't rain, but if it does, it's great to know that we will soon have another option for something to do on a wet day. If you read my post yesterday, you saw that I mentioned the Chik-Wauk Museum. This will be an excellent place to visit, and learn all about the history of the Gunflint Trail and its people. Here at Heston's, we are often in conversation about the early settlers and what it was like for them. Everyone up here is interested in the stories. Thanks to the work of a very dedicated group of volunteers, in partnership with the U. S. Forest Service, a home for housing the history and the artifacts will be up at the end of the Trail.

The grand opening is scheduled for July 4th. Beginning the 5th, the museum will hold regular hours through mid-October. Signs are in place, so it will be easy to find. Make plans to include Chik-Wauk in your vacation while you are here, but in the meantime, stop by their website and blog, and get to know a bit in advance. You can picture your own weather, and then when you come, you can tailor your activities accordingly. Nature trails make up a portion of the grounds of the museum, and so sunny days and rainy days both will be good times to visit.

Just Another One of "Those" Weeks

2010-06-11T12:31:00.001-05:00

It's one of those weeks, where a problem keeps returning to vex me. In this case, it is a rash of outboard motor challenges. Over Memorial weekend, we had two motors go down in one swoop, when Greg and Paul were attempting to get the barge up and running. Of course, it had to be nine at night, as well, when friends had come to use it to reach their cabin. They ended up towing the barge, with their load of cabinets and other stuff. I love this picture of their trailer--they said several people on the highway had taken their photo. No wonder why!

We brought the two motors in to the repair shop, and after several days of determination, the guys had them running again. We picked them up and brought them home, and got them on to the boats. All was well for a moment or two, and then they quit on us. Unfortunately, one is just too old for the challenge of pushing a boat anymore, so we may have to leave that one for bluer lakes (greener pastures?)....or scrap, more likely. The other one, we hope, is still salvageable. Time will tell.

Now a third one has gasped, and so have I. The main thing for which I am grateful is that Greg and Paul are here to help deal with these challenges. As I have mentioned in previous posts, the waterfront, and in particular, learning about the outboards on my own, is not one of my strong suits. So glad to have help around!

This is a picture of Greg and our friend Chris. They are looking at an antique motor, a Johnson, just as the stand says. Greg isn't sure how old it is, but he says it's from the 1930's or 40's. It's another one of those old things around here, a part of our collection. Recently, the motor found a new home. The Gunflint Trail Historical Society will soon be opening the Chik Wauk Museum, up at the end of the Trail. The outboard is in one of the many exhibits. This will be a much better spot for it, rather than hidden away in a corner of our motorshed. I'm really glad that we didn't have to get this motor to run again....though that may have been an easier task than keeping our current motors in working order.

Sooner or later, our motor troubles will be behind us. In the meantime, I'm fixing up a boat with oars....not much can go wrong with that, right? On second thought, don't tell me.

Another Blueberry Update

2010-06-10T06:07:00.001-05:00

Out and about last night, to transfer a car to the end of the Trail, I asked Greg to pull off on one of my favorite forest service roads near Seagull. Here is what we found:
Blueberries, and lots of them. Everywhere I looked, I saw bushes that were laden. Continued doses of rain and sun should help them along towards another healthy harvest.

It was difficult to walk, so as to not step on a bush. I missed seeing a black-backed woodpecker up close, as I was paying so much attention to my footing.

I baked up a batch of blueberry scones in the bread oven recently. Something tells me that more of these are in our future, given the looks of things in the two pictures above. Yum--can't wait!

Home Improvement

2010-06-09T09:56:00.000-05:00

Or, Cabin Improvement, as the case may be. Don't you love it when a project finally all comes together? We have been planning for a while to raise the floor in the master bedroom of Diamond Willow cabin. But like all such tasks, it needed to wait its turn on the project priority list. Last December came, and the time was right. So we ordered the flooring from our good friend Greg of Hull's Sawmill. It is tongue-and-groove maple, a lovely honey color, with interesting shading throughout. My Greg went to work right away to raise the old floor, and install the new one.

Like any good resorters, we were working on a deadline, and as it approached, we identified the usual problems: not enough time, and not the best timing. The floor was in, and had been sanded, so it only needed a finish. Winter, however, is not a good time to be applying polyurethane when decent ventilation is needed. We opted to wait until spring, when we could open the windows and the warm air would assist in a shorter drying time. We put some scatter rugs down, and called it good enough for the cold season.

Two weeks ago, Addie and our friend James got busy and emptied the room of its furniture. They learned the fine art of sanding, which is a whole lot easier these days. No more sheets of sandpaper and blocks of wood. They used two orbital hand-held sanders and had it smooth in about an hour. Next, I showed them how to paint on the poly. Two coats later, and we have a beautiful finished floor in the cabin.

But wait there's more. The bonus of this project is that Greg took the opportunity to install a new door, leading out to the screen porch. He installed a screen door, as well, so now fresh lake breezes can readily waft into the cabin. A short ramp leads from the bedroom down into the screened porch.

And just outside the porch, the deck awaits folks in need of serious relaxation....Anyone interested?

Chive Talkin'

2010-06-08T11:31:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a good day to wade into the annual gardening foray. Once again, it was me against the weeds, if that is what one calls the grasses, wildflowers and other plants that have moved in to garden plots left empty too long. About twenty years ago, Greg built a rock wall alongside the lodge, on the driveway that leads down to our landing. Over the years, I would plant different things there: flowers, herbs, vegetables. I still haven't found any one thing that does best in that spot. In recent times, we built a raised bed garden, and I have tended to that more loyally than the older terraces. But this year, I decided, is a good one to revive those old beds and see what might pop out of the ground this time.

Neglect is a sad thing. The weeds were tall and well-rooted. The early spring probably assisted in that. One of the most prolific plants was actually an intentional one--my chive bush. My dad had given me a starter plant when I first moved up to Gunflint Lake, and I had put it into the ground. What a hardy perennial. It grows abundantly, and it always gives me plenty of onion flavor in whatever salad I toss it into. Life at the lodge obviously suits it, too, as it had spread so much, I had probably a dozen locations where chives were growing. It was time to cut back on it, so I pulled and pulled and reduced the chives to two small plots. The scent of onion was in the air while I worked. I had noticed it before when weed-whacking. While it seemed cruel to be so aggressive, I knew that we didn't want a garden exclusively devoted to this, as pretty as the purple flowers might be.

When it comes to gardening, I am of the mind that the plants must survive with as little or as much intervention as I can afford to give them. Watering generally happens, but not as frequently as it should. Weeding might take place when I walk by and notice it needs doing. I don't have a spectacular green thumb, but I can usually harvest a few homegrown products, and that is really all I want. The satisfaction of the produce, as well as recognizing the connection to ancestors that gardened as a way of life, is enough to keep me planting each year. As far as the chives are concerned, I realized that they are my ideal garden vegetable--they manage to not only make without me, but to flourish in amazing quantity. Now, if we could only survive on onion grass.

Truth be told, though, one other plant in the side garden holds my heart the most. It is a tall white pine, growing at the northeast corner of the lodge. When Greg was first laying out the terraces and wall, he planned the locations with regard to that tree. At the time, it was maybe five feet tall, and rounded like a bush. In the years since, it has grown to be a wonderful example of its species. The branches are full and lush, and the pinecones in late summer are rich. It shelters birds in both summer and winter. It stands as a reminder to us of how, given time, a tree can grow tall, and a stand of them can turn into a forest. So it will be in years to come, where the Ham Lake Fire left its mark.

It's A Blue Monday

2010-06-07T15:12:00.000-05:00

But definitely not in the traditional sense. The sky was an intense blue this morning, as was the lake. And many other things were blue, too.
The one inch of rain that fell between Friday and Saturday was a big boost for all of the flowers and plants out there. Over time, it should help the lake a bit, though as a friend put it: We could use two or three more of those. Still, we're happy with any little bit that comes down.

As I went about my chores today, toting the camera, Greg asked what I was doing. When I explained the blue pictures, he asked for the camera, and contributed the next two. Collaboration at its finest!

Despite the clouds, it was a good weekend. Fishermen and women reported some results in both the walleye and the trout category. Seems the trout are deep, but with the right line, lures and location, success can be found. Paul has been giving it a go the last few days, but so far hasn't found that correct combo. But he said that he is enjoying it.

One more blue thing made it onto the scene. Yesterday morning I baked blueberry scones in the bread oven, again using residual heat from Saturday night. They were mighty tasty, and disappeared after church in a jiffy. That reminds me: We are once again hosting an 11:30 service of the Life in Christ Lutheran church, each Sunday through Labor Day. We love to have guests join us, as we gather outdoors for worship.

The birds continue to chirp merrily, but the hummingbird feeder has been quiet. They must be busy nesting, and wouldn't that be a marvelous thing to see. In this season of babies, we've seen little grouse, toddler squirrels, and a baby bunny. I haven't seen any moose calves, or fawns yet, but will keep an eye out for them.

The only thing that was a sad blue for today was that Blogger was down for a while this morning. My apologies for a delayed posting, but as they say, it was due to technical difficulties. If that was the only bad thing, though, I'd say we're doing pretty well here! Hoping that you are, too.

Sunday Photo: Laundry Day

2010-06-06T08:02:00.001-05:00

At a resort, laundry is usually all about sheets and towels. But sometimes it's good to have a change of pace.

There's a Bear in My Oven

2010-06-05T07:06:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday, I used the bread oven as a slow-cooker. We made pizza on Saturday night, and when we had finished, I shut the door on the oven to preserve the heat that was still in the bricks. Since adding a layer of insulation last fall, we had heard what a great method it is for long, slow cooking the next day. Sure enough, the opening temp the next morning was 350 degrees--perfect.

I browned up the roast, then set it into a foil-lined roasting pan. Next, I cooked up some barbecue sauce, a recipe that we have been enjoying for years. It is from The Great American Beer Cookbook by Candy Schermerhorn. Key ingredients include plums, tomato sauce, herbs and spices, and of course, beer. I used a bottle of Summit Extra Pale Ale. After pouring the sauce on the roast, I wrapped it well in the foil, and set it in the oven.

Four hours later, I figured it needed to be checked. Armed with my meat thermometer, I opened the door. The interior temperature of the oven was about 275 degrees. The meat tested out at 170, and it was tender and moist. We took it out of the oven, and let it set for a bit. Next I pulled it off of the bones, but really, it fell right off. We ate it for dinner with rosemary roasted potatoes, which also were done in the bread oven. Believe me, it was a feast.

So now we know a little more about our oven, and it is my intention to continue to slow-cook in it the day after our pizza gathering. We would like to invite our guests and neighbors to bring their own food over to try in this setting also. Just give me a call or leave me a comment if you are interested in trying this out some week. On a hot day, it will be a nice way to roast up a meal without firing up the oven in the kitchen. Gotta love that.

Storytelling

2010-06-04T06:28:00.000-05:00

In the days that followed my butchering experience, I told the story to a number of people. Family, friends, folks who stopped in to the store...no one was spared the details. Since it was such a new experience for me, I just wanted to share it. Seeing the reactions of my listeners was a delight. For the most part, the women were, I would say, impressed. If that type of thing didn't bother them, they were even enthusiastic about it. The men, on the other hand...well, I don't even know a phrase for being Really Impressed.

One friend stopped in by chance the day after. I was busy trying to set up fencing for the chickens that I had recently acquired. When he heard I had birds, he said he couldn't wait to go home and tell his wife. I asked if he wanted to see them. We got to the henhouse, and when I opened the door, he saw the bear head on the floor. He asked where it had come from, and I told him that I had butchered it yesterday. (I had temporarily stowed it in the bottom of the coop, so that I could prepare a wire cage and put it deep into the backwoods.) I told him about my experience, and he said he really couldn't wait to go home now to tell his wife. "Wait til I tell her! Greg's got quite a woman there! Wait til I tell her!" I just laughed to myself. Wasn't I doing what every person does? You do what you have to do.

Other fellows who stopped in to browse heard my story. They, too, were duly impressed by it. I didn't think it was that big of a deal, but evidently it was. In the end, it even got me an invitation to elk hunting camp in Montana, with friends, later in the fall. My one concern now, though, is that if we get a call on another rogue bear, Greg will turn to me and say, "Why don't you take care of it?" Sometimes there's danger in knowing too much.

Now I have a nice, clean, white bear skull to hang somewhere. I also have the claws, and someday hope to do some beading with them. We have some roasts in the freezer. And I'm hoping that this year's crop of bears are out there having a good life, finding berries, plants and anything else that makes them full and happy.

The Bear Story Part Two

2010-06-03T06:24:00.000-05:00

Last summer, I was wearing several hats, as Greg had taken a full-time job outside of the resort. Each day, he left at 7:30 a.m. and he took Paul with him. That meant that anything that took place on my watch had to be taken care of by me, knowledge or experience notwithstanding. It was a crazy learning event for me, as I saw how much I'd taken for granted when I always had the guys around to take care of the outside stuff. Fortunately, they were home on weekends, so if possible, I would save certain jobs for those two days.

It is not unusual for us to get a call from someone who is having problems with a nuisance bear. That is because if they get permission from the DNR to dispatch the bear, we are willing to salvage the meat from the animal. We all try hard to use this as a last resort. We much prefer to see the bears do what they are intended to do---hang out in the woods, find their sustenance, have new little bears. Looking at the studies of Lily the Bear in Ely this year, it's easy to see that many people enjoy bears. I've heard that she has an incredible following on her Facebook page, to the tune of over 98,000 followers. Her webcam was a huge hit this winter. Pretty impressive stuff. We like bears. But if the bears become too habituated to people, they can be dangerous. If this happens, sometimes they need to go.

We got one of those calls on a Saturday morning in mid-June 2009. Our neighbor had a rogue bear that had become so comfortable around their place, he totally ignored all people, and made some pretty bold moves in broad daylight. They had called it in, and were granted permission. When we heard about it, I prayed all weekend that the bear would die before Sunday night. No such luck.

Early on Monday, just after everyone had left for work, I got the call that "Yogi" had just eaten his last breakfast. Could I please come down and pick him up? Now mind you, I have assisted many a time on the care and butchering of a dead animal...but I had never done it all by myself. I tried hard not to start hyperventilating (though I felt like it) and I said that I would be down shortly. Before panic set in, I attempted to reach Greg, in order to have a quick phone tutorial on what to do. I jotted down some instructions, loaded some water jugs in to the truck, and headed out.

With help, the bear got loaded into the back of the truck. He was just a little guy, and we felt bad that he had learned his habits so young. We knew that he would not have stopped looking for easy meals, at the local resorts, cabins, campgrounds, wherever people are. At some point, he could have become a real danger. Instead, he met his fate....and so did I. I got him back home, and found a couple of really sharp knives. Since I have a degree in biology from a lot of years ago, I had experience in dissecting animals. It has never made me squeamish, and that is good. So for me, at this point, it felt somewhat clinical, but nonetheless a bit intimidating. Since the day was hot, I knew that I couldn't put it off, so I just dug right in.

Greg had told me that in the summer, it is best not to gut the bear, as it makes a very stinky mess. He said to cut back the hide, and peel it away from the muscle and bone, exposing the four legs, and the spine. That is what I started to do. Methodically, I made my cuts, and peeled back, while swatting away the flies and mosquitoes. I paused a time or two, to catch my breath or answer the phone. Mostly, I just kept at it, and after a couple of hours, I had two hind quarters and two front quarters washed, wrapped, and safely stowed in the refrigerator. The butchering of it, into manageable size pieces, would come later. I next located the backstraps, and carefully cut those away from the spine. As for the tenderloins....well, as tasty and tender as they might have been, I didn't attempt to retrieve them. Greg says that it is possible to get them from the back side, by reaching inside, and using a knife to loosen and cut them free. But since I had my orders not to puncture the gut cavity, I felt it was too risky. Why push my luck when things were going so well?

By this time, Addie was home from work, so she took a moment to snap a photo of me, and I gave her a quick anatomy lesson on things visible still within the bear.
The job wasn't over yet, as I still had to take care of the remains. I washed up and got everything secured in the truck, and then drove off to find a remote area to dump the carcass. I had been telling people that a lot of the days at the resort, I would find myself pretending to be Greg, when I was attempting to figure out a solution to new challenges. That day, I felt like I was Greg, driving down an old road, bumping along in the truck, mission nearly accomplished. I got the deed done, and soon was back home to do the final job of the moment, clean-up. I scrubbed the back of the truck like I clean in cabins, since I didn't want the smell around to attract any other critters. Finished, I have to say that I felt a bit of a sense of accomplishment, having achieved a job I never dreamed that I would be doing when I signed on to be a resort wife.

A Bear Story

2010-06-02T16:32:00.000-05:00

Often on my blog, I talk about seasons. Not just the usual four, mind you. I've mentioned the fifth one in these parts, known as mud season. I have probably talked too much about firewood season. I know, of course, that these are not seasons by the true definition, but it is an easy way to mark things that are regular events that tend to occur at roughly the same time each year. Something that can happen at this time is that the bears can become a nuisance while they search for early-season food. Berries are not yet ripe, and there are only so many grubs a large bruin can find and consume. Though we have only had one weekend so far that a bear has been around, we are always cognizant of them, and try to act accordingly. No leaving coolers outside, and garbage needs to be safely stowed in the shed. Last year about this time, we had a young bear who totally ignored the bear rules, that call for staying away from people, and here is his story:

We knew that a rogue bear had been hanging around. I had seen it walk through our property one evening about nine p.m. I grabbed my camera and went out to follow it. It walked nonchalantly to the bread oven, sauntered over towards the garbage shed, and then began to make its way up the path to where Moses lived. I followed about twenty-some paces behind, ready with my camera. The bear knew that I was back there, because at one point, he turned around and looked at me. His pace remained the same, though, so I figured he was too young to be scared.

As he headed up the path towards the donkey yard, I said out loud, "You really don't want to go up there." I was remembering the treatment of a different little bear, the year before, who inadvertently found himself in the pasture. I heard that commotion, and got up there in time to see Moses and Jethro chasing the poor little thing, full bore, as the black ball of fur kept hurtling itself at the fence. It finally made it over, and then just sat stunned and dazed for a moment. I'd feel that way, too, I'm sure with two large donkeys in pursuit of me.

Thus, I felt it best to warn the current little guy of the danger. He must have taken me seriously, because a moment later, he found a good spot to divert off the trail, and chose to climb the nearest tree. It happened to be a dead cedar with just a few broken branches left. Still, it offered protection. I snapped a few photos, and then continued on up the hill to check on Moses.

Sure enough, Moses knew that someone new was in the neighborhood, and he wasn't happy. He stood at full attention by the gate, ears pointing high to catch every last sound wave. Donkeys have an advantage like that. I went in to the pasture, and talked softly to him. While doing so, I could hear the bear climbing down from its perch, and so Moses and I got a fresh glimpse of him as he made his way up into the hills behind our sign. That was the last we saw of him that night, but not for long. (Stay tuned....More tomorrow.)

Eagle Entertainment

2010-06-01T22:35:00.001-05:00

Lately we've been fortunate to have some great eagle activity in these parts. On Sunday afternoon, we saw this one sitting in a spruce tree on the shore in front of the lodge. Greg was outside, and he whispered through the kitchen window to alert me . I grabbed my camera and headed upstairs, since our bedroom window is conveniently at about eye-level to the treetop. I took a few shots through the glass, and then decided to quietly remove the screen. It seemed as though the eagle knew we were there (Greg had joined me), but it didn't seem to be bothered by our actions.

It was a grey and cloudy day, so the pictures didn't end up to be very colorful. Still, it was quite a treat to be able to shoot these, and to see this fine bird from such a great vantage point. I knew that if I waited long enough, some sort of action would take place. Sure enough, it decided to take off, and I snapped the next two photos.

We weren't the only ones to see an eagle. Our guests Mark and Renee were hiking on the South Rim trail, and they were able to see an eagle's nest from above. What a neat sight that would be! They said the adult left the nest and was soaring about. They didn't mention if there were any eggs or eaglets in view.

Finally, the raven neighbors had an eagle come into their territory, and they made short order of chasing it away. We were down by the beach, and I heard the familiar calls. We looked up in time to see the eagle gracefully winging its way east, with two ravens in hot pursuit. The ravens' wings were beating rapidly in contrast to the long measures of the eagle. Generally the ravens seem to be large birds on their own, but it is all relative when the bigger guy comes along.

Make Way

2010-05-31T06:11:00.000-05:00

The exercise of clearing out stuff from our storage building resulted in treasures finding new homes, and fresh, open spaces where the items used to be. What a great feeling....like maybe I am regaining a bit of order in my life. It's amazing how possessions can have the power to control us at times. The key, I realize, is management, and that I haven't been managing well. Now I have the chance for a new start.

We had a discussion about space...can it be created?...because that is what I feel like we did. More likely, space is like matter, and can neither be created nor destroyed. It just is. So even if I didn't create space as such, I realized some now-empty room, and I can make use of it in a different way. In the immediate case, I am going to continue the clean-out, and I can do it in the storage building (also known as our laundry building. A long time ago, Peggy would do laundry out there.) Yesterday, we worked outside on the lawn. I guess we don't have to air our dirty laundry in public anymore! Sorry--bad pun.

Greg and I have lived in the lodge building for twenty-two years, and only a time or two have we done a major clean out. The most recent was in 2004 when we re-roofed the building. Actually, it's taken me a few years to finish that sorting project. At least with the storage building, I don't need to look at it everyday. The constant sight of the mess didn't necessarily motivate me to get it done quicker, it just depressed me. Time was the biggest challenge. I guess like space and matter, spare time also cannot be created. But I find if I can remove some things that have served a purpose for us and are no longer needed, then my mind opens up to think more creatively.

One aspect of this cleaning is that we are making room on the screen porch. Since the roofing project, it has been housing old stuff, and we haven't really taken the time to re-do the screens and enclose it again. That will be happening, and none-too-soon for me. June evenings on the screen porch, with daylight until nearly ten, are a treat I really enjoy. It will be nice to reclaim them.

Two More Raven Poses

2010-05-30T17:07:00.003-05:00

Greg took these two photos, as well as yesterday's picture, of the ravens. Not only does he have a better camera than mine, he also has a better eye for it. It probably helps that the ravens like him the best, too.

Ravens in our Midst

2010-05-29T21:57:00.000-05:00

The raven buddies are still hanging out with us. They were especially vigilant yesterday when we were working in and around the storage building. As we put things outside to sort, discard or ready for the rummage sale, they circled the sky above us. I'm certain that they figured any moment now, a morsel of food would appear for them. Of course, it didn't. But they persisted in the watch. Funny birds.

Today, we had several black bags of garbage in the back of one of the pick up trucks. I watched as one tested the territory, by first landing thirty feet away, then hopping to twenty feet, and then finally zeroing in on his target. There he was in the back of the truck, ripping into a bag. I chased him off...several times. Then a neighbor stopped by with a dog, and the dog happily chased him off. Finally, Greg covered the stuff with a tarp, so they couldn't see the bags any longer. I wondered if they knew that the bags were still there, but underneath. I didn't have time to observe long enough, but I'm curious to know if their "smarts" extend that far. I'm sure I'll get more opportunities to look for the answer. Seems I can't forget a trash bag in a truck or on a porch for more than five minutes before they find it. Good eyesight.

I was a bit concerned that when we were making pizza tonight, we might have these guys for visitors, too. No worries, though, as they made themselves scarce. Just a chipmunk or two to keep an eye on, and so far they aren't bold--0r savvy--enough to have figured out the tables full of temptations. Not so for me....the pizzas tasted great, and the brownies our neighbor John brought were delightful. If it weren't for the no-see-ums eating our ankles, I may have stayed out there longer. Now that's a new way of dieting and portion control!

Hopping Along

2010-05-28T21:38:00.000-05:00

Today has been a very busy day. Lots of cabin folks arrived, neighbors stopped in, the gas man brought a delivery of gasoline, and we attempted to find stuff to put out for the first ever Trash and Treasures Gunflint Trail Rummage Sale. Tomorrow, many of the businesses, as well as cabin and home owners who feel so inclined, will host rummage sales. We all know that each other has a stash of treasures....it will be a great day to be out and about, trolling for goodies.

One of my most important jobs today, however, was not related to the sale. Instead, it was about the beer. Two years ago, Greg's trellis for his hops was knocked down by a falling birch tree. He has been growing hops behind the workshop for several years, and they produce a beautiful wall of vines and leaves, and eventually flowers, which can be used to flavor the homebrew that he likes to make. We didn't have time to resurrect them last year, so the vines just grew willy-nilly all over the place, and as a result, we didn't have much of a harvest. When he told me this year that he mostly enjoys just seeing them growing, I was determined to get them back in to operation.

Paul and James helped me. I got new strings tied on, and then the guys hoisted the poles and I put in the bolts. I then strung the twine to the posts in the ground, and guided the new vines over to the lines. A couple of them are already six feet tall! This warm weather has definitely been making an impression on them. As long as we get some rain, the harvest should be good enough for a batch or two of beer. As a back-up plan, we have a spigot nearby, so that I can give the hops a swig or two....they deserve that, right?

Many years ago, when our boys were much younger, Greg worked with them one fall to make a moose calling device. They went out by our powerline to test it out. Back then, Greg was growing hops under the line, as it was a great spot for full sun. The trellis system was a bit different---one twelve or so foot pole for each hop vine, again with a long piece of twine for the vine to grab. They tested out the moose call, but no one answered, so they came in for dinner. It wasn't until the next morning, when Greg was driving by, that he saw the result. Evidently a bull moose had indeed heard the call, and had come looking for what he thought was going to be a lovely lady. All he found was a big old trellis, and he got his antlers tangled in the line, to boot. Such disappointment. Greg could see that the top of the trellis had been snapped off, and that very determined (and angry?) tracks trailed down the hill, as the lonely moose ran off. At least now we know how to make a decent moose call if we ever go moose hunting again!

In Pursuit of a Good Burger

2010-05-27T14:52:00.000-05:00

In our travels in the past year, Greg and I have found places that advertise "The Best...(whatever)" their specialty might be. We don't usually go for things like that, but we decided to test out the hamburgers at a couple of places making this claim. While good, we both agreed that the best burgers we have ever enjoyed have been right here in Cook County. Last Sunday, we had the chance to re-test that theory at one of our favorite local spots.

Once again, it was a Sunday that took us to Sag Lake Trail, this time to retrieve the dock that we had recently purchased from a neighbor. In order to recruit the young muscle around here to help us, we bribed them with the promise of lunch at Trail's End Cafe. After loading the dock into the back of Greg's truck, we headed up.

When I walk in the door at Mark's cafe, I always know exactly what I am going to eat: a mushroom and Swiss burger, fries, and coleslaw. Last year, I took Greg there for his birthday, and had that. When you know a winner, there is no reason to switch. The burgers are hand-formed and are generously portioned, with an excellent seasoning blended in. Juicy, flavorful, cooked to order and served on a french roll, I am always satisfied. The fries are a treat that I only allow myself once a month, and the slaw is crunchy and tasty, not too strong the way cabbage sometimes can be. Overall, an excellent meal and one we highly recommend. Why we take a chance on burgers at other locations is mystery to me, when the best burger I've had on the Trail is just a short--and beautiful--drive away.

And if you happen to be in that neck of the woods and have a call to make, this rare find, a pay telephone, is in the parking lot adjacent to the restaurant's driveway. It's not easy to find those dinosaurs anymore, in the age of cell phones.

A Sign of Good Things to Come

2010-05-26T09:03:00.000-05:00

Up on Sag Lake Trail on Sunday, I spotted this bush. Yup, those are early blueberries. With luck and enough moisture, we should have another good crop this year. Our friend who owns this land told me that many more bushes in the woods looked bountiful as well. We got a little rain last night, and a bit this morning. Keeping our fingers crossed for more, since this will be the reward.

Straight From Spring to Summer

2010-05-25T09:13:00.002-05:00

It's not really unusual for Gunflint Lake to go straight from winter/early spring into summer, when it comes to the weather. That has definitely been the case over the last week. Our daytime temps have been in the eighties, and it is cooling down to the sixties at night. For me, this is a real treat. I love the hot weather, and still have many memories of how cold it was last summer. I'm not complaining. Never mind that I haven't had time to find my lighter clothes....at least my Hawaii wardrobe is still nearby, so I can grab those things. Greg, on the other hand, is not pleased, and keeps reiterating the fact that it is soon to cool off. Five degree declines are predicted everyday, and for him, they can't come fast enough.

Because of the early onslaught of summer, the plant life has taken off at rapid speed. Suddenly, my lawn needs mowing. The weed whacker is in for a work out soon. The leaves are turning from the early chartreuse to a deeper summer green. The rhubarb has gone ballistic. I'm tempted to make only pie and sauce for every meal, just to use it. Putting it in the freezer generally doesn't work too well for me. I tend to forget about it until late winter, and by then it has totally shriveled up.

This would have been one of those years when I could take a chance on early planting in the garden. Had I done that, I would probably have loads of lettuce and peas, and be well on the way to some lovely tomatoes and beans. But the words of my grandmother, passed on by my father, are that wisdom in Duluth says not to plant before Memorial Day. This year, the holiday happens to fall on the traditional day, the 31st. I guess that means that I am shortening the season even more. That's okay. I'm at best a casual gardener. I sow the seeds, attempt to pull weeds, and generally expect the plants to survive without me. It seems to work well enough.

Today, however, I am going to cheat a little. When I am in town, I plan to pick up some flowers to spruce things up a bit. You can't beat that instant punch that some bright colors add to the landscape. Even on a bad day, the happy faces of pansies perks me right up.

Portaging Boat Ramps

2010-05-24T09:43:00.000-05:00

Saturday brought together a crack team of carpenters to accomplish a long-awaited task: new boat ramps for the beach. Greg organized the labor and supplies. Working off a sketch on a scrap of paper, Paul and Joe put together the prototype. After putting the winch on the front of the ramp, we carried it down to the beach to give it a try.

Only the barge has been put into the water thus far, so we took advantage of the extra young muscle, and pulled the Lund down to test it out. We got the boat into the water, and then with the aid of the winch, I was able to crank it up and out of the water. Hooray! I am always searching for ways to make my life easier, and these fellows had just done it for me.

They came back up to the workshop, and our friend James joined them. In under an hour, three more ramps were assembled. The guys portaged them down to the beach, where they now wait for a bit of rearranging. (Isn't that the hallmark of a woman? I just want them in a certain place on our beach!) Soon we will have boats and motors sitting pretty on their ramps, all set for fishing and exploring.Finally! A smart way to store and move our boats, in and out of the water. I thought back to the fall of 2005, when Greg and the boys went to Alaska for four weeks. Addie was home with me, but between the two of us, we couldn't budge the boats very far off the beach. Greg rigged up some of his tree-removal equipment for me to use for the task: a strap and a rope come-along. While it worked adequately, it was cumbersome to carry back forth, as well as to use. This solution will be so much better.

Thank you to Greg, Paul, Joe and James!

Sunday Photos

2010-05-23T05:55:00.001-05:00

A not-so-random collection of the doors we have around here.

Can you identify the buildings that belong to the doors?

Like a Bowl of Cherries

2010-05-22T10:22:00.000-05:00

If this is what summer vacation looks like, then I want to go there! Read more about what's new in the sewing department at Matey Couture. Looks like it's going to be a great summer.