Wednesday, 5 September 2007
Like these geese we saw veeing up in the UP, we got the migratory bug. Today we made it across Ohio, Kentucky, and Tennessee, to land once again here in ATL.
Gotta get the pasta in the boiling water, or I’d write more….
PS That’s code for “I’m too tired and brain-dead to compose a coherent thought….”
Saturday, 1 September 2007
Little ol’ Curtis’ claim to fame.
Busy. Sunny hot. Lots of sales. Including at Gail’s.
These lovely, fun, exotic fish are a new innovation. I should have gotten one!
Wednesday, 29 August 2007
I know that’s an oxymoron, but that’s what we found.
Took a drive north of Laketon (only one house remaining), crossing the Tahquamenon at Danaher (two houses there, but too new to be part of the original town) yesterday afternoon. Encountered few vehicles, but did have to remove brush left by sloppy loggers, perhaps (sigh) as part of a road-widening project from one stretch of the road for our fine low-clearance aerodynamic vehicle (not really a woods critter).
This puddle was the only standing water left in this huge swamp-basin. Like the Sleeper Lake fire area east of here, the dry spell has lowered the water table. Indeed, I understand that the Sleeper Fire is burning below the ground surface more than above ground, and has become, at least in part, what they call a bog fire.
Tuesday, 28 August 2007
Yesterday we could see the changing of the seasons in the drying of the grass and the yellowing of the maples.
This morning we’re full into fall rains, a huge seasonal jump, with no chance of painting, or at least of the paint drying very quickly.
Rain days acquired a special twist for me when I started doing CRM fieldwork. As a kid, here at the cottage, they’d been days with long convoluted card games (War was a favorite), or 500-piece puzzles on several card tables at once. This changed, as with so many things, as I entered the work-a-day world. On some jobs I didn’t get paid for rain days. And I might or might not have access to wheels. And I was probably in some dull, boring town, or where I’d already explored the even mildly entertaining parts. Living with people I already knew too well. And having already finished all my novels. Twice.
This rain day means I could work on cleaning mouse droppings from various cabinets I’ve been avoiding (ick), begin making lists for the exodus (whenever that will be), or read a novel or Mann’s “1491.” Commensurate with the cool temps and grey skies, on this rain day, I’m making split pea soup with barley and Minnesota cultivated wild rice.
le Carré’s plots are always outstanding, but I think people often overlook his superb ideas and turns of phrase. For example (Ch. 24):
So Jonathan had retreated into his own thoughts. He had long been aware that he was one of those people who are condemned to think concurrently rather than consecutively. For instance, he was comparing the greens of the jungle with the greens of Ireland and reckoning that the jungle beat Ireland into a cocked hat.
I’ve not encountered that idea: concurrent vs consecutive thought patterns. I like it though. I do both though, I think, so is there another type?
The sun broke out just after 1pm, and maybe the humidity will drop enough for more (sigh) painting.
PS Tasty pea soup for lunch, especially with a few crumbs of bacon simmered in.
Saturday, 25 August 2007
We held the Make Up Party tonight, the one McGrady suggested because we weren’t up here for the Fourth. The best eye-candy came from the moon, however—see the Two Moons of the UP?
No beach fire; the Gov’s put the nix on outdoor fires until…?
Friday, 24 August 2007
While we’re extremely happy we’re getting moist weather—although real rain would be highly appreciated instead of this foggy-dewy stuff—it puts a damper (haha) on painting operations. In addition, I discovered that the wood filler I used just rolls right off when you try to sand it and it’s damp. Not good.
So, the Handiman decided to do some other chores, and cleaned pine needles off the roof and inspected the chimney (using the long lens of the camera, without climbing the really steep part of the roof). He reports one dead bat clinging up there somewhere. I worry about the decomposing bricks.
Maybe next year. Our card’s full for this year.
Thursday, 23 August 2007
Near the northern end of the Old Manistique Road that wends its way along the south side of the Manistique swamp from Germfask down toward Lake Michigan is a lovely State Forest park at the confluence of Mead Creek with the Manistique.
Although all the road-straightening and bridge improvements have removed some of the winding woods-road charm, this route remains one of my favorites. We almost always make a short stop at Mead Creek to admire the river, especially the reflections of the treeline. Sometimes we can even find a few berries to browse on, too.
This week when we stopped we found the latest change. The tiny campground loop is barricaded and marked with red “CLOSED” signs, surely a casualty of the budget-tightening afflicting the State.
This clump of birches (etc.) remain mute witnesses to the days when campers built smokey fires on this bluff, waiting for the coffee water to boil so they could head out for some early morning fishing along the bank carrying a full thermos. See the peeled bark on the right-most tree? Evidence.
Water levels are low along these reaches of the Manistique, too, although the sprinkles we got yesterday and fogginess that continued this morning brought dew, a very modest relief. So, the sun hasn’t extracted as much from the plants and soil lately, but the deficit still means the UP is dry dry dry.
At the same time we hear about flooding in northern Ohio and in I believe MN/WI, which aren’t that far away.
Wednesday, 22 August 2007
The rain gods have finally smiled, and a morning that began with a sprinkle, developed into ground-cloud moistness, with bits of ever-so-tentative extremely light rain. Unless things change, it won’t be enough to really moisten the soil even an inch or so, but….
And, besides, it means: no staining or painting today!
Saturday, 18 August 2007
For, I believe, the first time since we arrived in good ’ol Luce County this summer, we had dew this morning. Between that and the quick shower yesterday morning, maybe the tide (may I say that?) is turning on this summer dry season.
I’ve done a dawn photo session looking through the orchard, across the field, and at the woods and sun every summer since I got a digital still camera in 2002 (and at least once before with a film camera), and the results vary by camera and conditions (of course). This year they’re on balance somewhat drab, but still compelling with judicious framing and cropping. I picked this one of the apples, to remind myself how late in the season we are here this year (usually we’re here in July), and as a reminder to pick some of the good ones for apple sauce!
These quiet dawns are one of my special pleasures while I’m here….
Tuesday, 7 August 2007
Manistique Lake’s levels are lower now than ever in my memory, and this is the beach (much narrower) we would run up and down as kids when we wanted to keep playing in the water, but we were assessed by the watchful mother (rarely father) as having the dreaded “blue lips.” The remedy for this condition was to wrap in a sun-warmed towel and make several speedy sand-tossing-by-toes circuits until circulation had been restored and we were allowed to return to the water.
Awoke last night over and over again because the wind switched yesterday to the north, bringing the smoke smell to the house. (Earlier this year we smelled the smoke from the South Georgia fires—in Atlanta, now we get the smoke from the Sleeper Lake fires.) It doesn’t smell so bad at midday, but we expect that to fluctuate.