Eight Years Old

Happy birthday, dear Joy!

We just got back yesterday afternoon from our annual Memorial Day trip "up north" to the family cabins, a trip that regularly coincides with Joy's birthday.  I've just changed the "Introducing Joy" sidebar to reflect her new age.  Eight.  Hardly seems possible -- eight years old!

We celebrated with balloons and bubbles and little cupcakes in the cabin.  We'll have further celebrations at home, and shopping for a big-girl birthday bike as soon as we get our post-holiday act together to do so.

As Memorial Day trips go, this one was relatively uneventful, especially considering our track record of muddy departures and explosive avian visitations.  (Well, JoyDad did have to do some work on breaking out a beaver dam that was flooding the road.  But we'd had warning so that was expected.)

Our party was smaller than usual, just the four of us and GrampaK.  The weather was pleasant for the end of May, mostly cool with a couple of rainy bits but at least one warm-enough-to-swim afternoon.  We did our traditional walks in the woods:

and spent a lot of time on the screen porch watching the hummingbirds come to the feeder:

(When I posted this one on Facebook, I captioned it: "Secret for a long-lived relationship -- always respect your partner's side of the hummingbird feeder.")

You can tell that your daughter is growing up when she wants to drive the boat!

Not to worry, folks, it's safely docked.

One of the basic experiences of life up at the lake is the lack of running water.  We bring drinking water along, but wash water for the dishes and floor and ourselves comes from an old-fashioned pump just a little ways away from the cabin.  This weekend I had a startling realization -- though we'd been bringing Joy up to the cabin at least once a summer for her whole life, and sometimes more often than that... we'd never taken her down that short path to "help" pump water.  It's been part of Rose's experience since not long after she could walk.  But with Joy, early on I suppose it felt like too much of a hassle, and then later we just sort of had our fixed routines and always expected to come back from the pump with a full bucket in each hand, and no hand left to hang on to Joy lest she make a dash for the lake.

This vacation I finally realized what had been happening.  And Joy and I went to have fun with the pump.

So easy, to get into these ruts and hold our kiddos back.  We've got to do better than that.

We will not have another trip to the lake without a trip to the pump for Joy -- which she enjoyed to the hilt, my sweet water-loving child.  We've got to keep examining, and listening, and doing better.

Happy birthday, my sweet eight-year-old!

Go Jump in a Lake!

I guess if one's child is going to be driven by an unspoken imperative to "Go jump in a lake!" it's good to have a beautiful lake to jump into.

The JoyFamily returned on Monday from another long-weekend jaunt to the family cabins in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I'm pleased to report that our trip home was nicely uneventful, in contrast to our Memorial Day mudbath. The vacation itself was free of marauding ruffed grouse, and nary an exploding shower pipe was to be found.

The big novelty of the trip was the company of AuntieS, who hadn't been up to the lake in 3 decades. It was such a treat to have her there, I didn't even mind "letting" her win a round of dice the last night we were there... Besides, she took pictures! (Photos below are courtesy of AuntieS).

For Joy, the top-priority draw this visit was the lake itself. We hadn't been in the cabin five minutes, just beginning to unload and unpack, when we suddenly heard the lake-side screen door slam and Joy was hurtling down the steep embankment toward the pier. How she kept on her feet the whole way down, I'll never know -- I'm not even sure how I managed to stay upright in pursuit. I caught up with her at the last second, just as she paused at the far end of the pier before launching herself into the drink.

In past years, we've been able to sit on the pier and play little games, or swing on the rickety metal swingset between the cabins, or hang out happily for hours on the screen-porch overlooking the lake. Not this time around. Some switch on Joy's mixer-board had assumed a new setting -- the "Go jump in a lake" setting. Being in sight of the lake without actually jumping in? Not to be considered.

Fortunately, the weather cooperated for lake-splashings every afternoon we were there. Summer is waning up north, but by afternoon the sun had always warmed up the air and the lake enough for a swim.

The first afternoon, we splashed both off the pier and with the rest of the family off the side of the pontoon boat.

The next day we learned to float tummy-down on a little inflatable life-ring toy.

The third day, Joy discovered the delight of driving her hands down into the muddy sand of the lakebed. That was so much fun, she was even willing to dunk her head under when we went into slightly deeper water, for the joy of that sloppy lakebed.

We had other fine moments as well: unusual success at going for walks down the woodland roads, and playing with ferns WITHOUT consuming them, and an unusually calm ride home.

Gorgeous weather aside, this was not really an ideal weekend to upset the Joy-routine with a trip to the lake. We've had fruit-basket-upset with our therapy staffing and schedule and location through the course of August, with changes still happening. Then our summer childcare arrangement came to an end mid-August, leaving us patching together the last two weeks. And then the crowning routine-buster -- the start of first grade, with shortened days both Thursday and Friday, and a new teacher and case manager.

Since I didn't get this written before Day 1 of school actually happened, I'll let you in on the first day's outcome -- Joy's two main special education assistants are with her again this year. The first day of first grade was not at all like the traumatic first day of kindergarten. Not without some stress of course, but overall a big relief to everyone involved. Onward to Day 2!

Northwoods Adventures, May 2011

Here's the long-promised roundup of our Memorial Day at the lake.

Balloons for the birthday girl:

And for her big sister:

We walked in the woods:

And blew bubbles on the pier:

And played with the bubble-swords on the screen-porch (thank you AuntLO and UncleDO for the gift of bubbly entertainment!)

And enjoyed the heck out of pine-needles (so soft! so fragrant!):

We had unusually long stretches of independent play with the ring-stacker:

And lots of people-peek play with the pompom:

And the rocking chair:

Rose learned to cast with a borrowed fishing rod:

And caught a 20-inch northern pike off the end of the pier! (Actually, Rose hooked it, JoyDad landed it, and GrampaK de-hooked and released it. Rose was not interested in even get near enough to "her" fish to be photographed with it.)

Very tame, so far. Minor adventures only. Nothing nearly so eventful as last year...

Until we set out for home.

We'd decided to try & save some time by going out the "back way," down a remote logging road that had recently been widened a little by a new logging operation. We actually drove out to town that way on Monday, so we knew the road was passable (if a little muddy & exciting to drive.) We and GrampaK were the last ones out on Tuesday -- he went one way, we went the other.

And before we'd gotten more than a couple miles out, we zigged where we shoulda zagged -- and the passenger wheels sunk deep into soft mud at the side of the road.

"Everybody out," declared JoyDad, after the first attempt at backing up went nowhere.

I swung my door open... and it barely cleared the mud.

So we all clambered out the driver's side doors, and I spent the next 10 minutes holding Joy and getting bitten by mosquitoes while JoyDad got muddier and muddier trying to dig out (without tools) or toss something under the wheels for traction (a losing battle.)

Finally we decided that someone needed to hike out. Probably about 3 hours walk to the nearest house. We only had the one cell phone (mine) and of course no reception back-of-the-beyond as we were.

So the mud-spattered JoyDad set off down the road, glancing down at my cell for "bars" about every ten steps. I piled back into the car in the mud with the girls, out of mosquito range, to settle in to try & entertain them for who-knew-how-long. With no means of outside communication whatsoever.

Rose and Joy were two different entertainment challenges. Rose was aware enough of the situation to have some imaginative worries, and kept asking when Daddy was coming back. (As if I knew. He'd set out at 8:45. In my mind, the earliest he could possibly return with help would be 11am, and that was terrrrribly optimistic. But I didn't name a time.)

We snacked. I read chapter after chapter from Little Women. Joy watched DVD -- how long would the battery last? The sun started streaming through the trees onto the car, but I didn't dare run the air for more than 5 minutes every half hour, for fear of killing the battery too...

And then, just at 11:00, a tow-truck appeared through the leaves.

I didn't remember to get out with the camera to record the sunken car, but here's how it looked just after rescue:

We had guardian angels watching over us that day. JoyDad got a shoulder-tap from the first one about 15 minutes into his hike. He was watching that phone for the non-existent "bars" when all of a sudden... it RANG! Still no bars visible, but just enough connectivity that it was able to let him know that there was a message waiting.

That message was from the angel -- because I almost NEVER use my cell unless I'm setting up a specific call. Very few people have the number, and even fewer use it unless we've set up to speak. And yet, someone from home-town had called, just about the time we were getting stuck.

If JoyDad hadn't gotten that voice-mail alert, he'd never have known about the patch of connectivity back there in the woods. As it was, he was able to call 911 and be connected to a towing-company dispatcher and get help on the way.

And then he walked out of the connectivity and didn't hit another patch before finally intercepting the tow-truck, about two hours after his hike began.

Second angel was a mechanic in Merrill, Wisconsin, who was able to take a look at our vehicle when it started making awful noise en-route, and (instead of taking us for a huge sum of cash in our distress) assured us that we'd make it home as long as we didn't accelerate into any sharp turns.

I'll spare you the account of the rest of the trip -- it was long and warm and kinda cranky -- but we made it. And even the total expense, between the tow and the next day's necessary repairs, weren't nearly as awful as they could have been.

Wonder how next year's trip will go (she says with fear and trembling!)

Peak Stim Season

Autumn has come to this part of the country, with chilly nights and turning leaves. As we planned for our annual fall getaway to close up the family cabins for the season, I watched the fall-color map on the weather.com web site. Fall-color watching is a tourism activity in and of itself, and the past two years the leaves were pretty much at "peak color" when we closed up the cabins. The fall-color forecast maps gave us reason to hope that the same might be true this year.

But as dawn broke on our drive north, it was clear that the traditional peak had come and gone. Aside from the evergreens and a few bright splashes of yellow birch leaves, everything had already fallen.

And guess what? From Joy's perspective, it was just perfect. The forest floor, and even the roads, had a thick coat of crunchy leaves to shuffle and kick.


The leaves helped distract from the stim that's been driving me & JoyDad crazy lately, which involves grabbing handfuls of dirt and trickling the soil down onto her own body or hair. With all the leaves around, she was more interested in making careful bouquets of the bright birch leaves, assembling and twirling the stems in her hand. Lovely, and much less messy.


Rose enjoyed the fallen leaves too. She and JoyDad went hiking up into the woods, to find the continental divide between the Lake Michigan & Lake Superior watersheds that runs through the family property. Rose also used red & yellow leaves to decorated the chains on the rickety old metal swingset, which was just the right height for Joy to swing all by herself this year.


Other highlights:

• Joy went swimming (Swimming! In the lake! In October!
  
  
• Rose went fishing with her uncles and learned to cast.
  
  
  
• Joy learned to drink from a soda can.
  
  
• Rose played her first game of dice with the grownups in the evening.
  
  
• Joy actually echoed the name of the lake, for the first time ever!
  
  
• We saw some ruffed grouse in the woods -- but not in the cabins.
  
  
• The weather was stunning all weekend -- shirtsleeve weather, blue skies, minimal insect issues.
  
  
• The starry skies at night went on forever.

Unfortunately, vacation is never forever. Back home we had to go, hoping the transition back to school won't be too exceedingly traumatic. At least we got to see the fall foliage in full swing on the ride back home! Tune in next spring for more exciting northwoods adventures.

Further Adventures Up North

What better way to celebrate a long holiday weekend than to head up north with family?

It had only been a month since our last trip, so all of us knew the drill. Pretty well, anyway. We'd thought ahead for some helpful additions such as water shoes to protect our feet from the lake bottom; it would have been nice if I'd remembered my swimsuit, though! (T-shirt and shorts made an acceptable substitute.)

We had a somewhat larger group this time, with both JoyDad's brothers (Uncle Marathon and Uncle DO) and their spouses (Auntie Save-the-Tatas and Auntie LO). Joy was delighted to discover that four out of the six adults could do JoyDad's special trick where he relaxes his face and shakes his head quickly from side to side, making a silly "blub-blub-blub" noise with his mouth. She ran from one to the other on the screen porch, grinning up at them and shaking her head to request more!

Joy also had a special connection with Auntie Save-the-Tatas, whom she doesn't see often. This auntie was the go-to gal for special kissies and cuddles. Cute as could be.

Auntie LO and Uncle DO, meanwhile, brought the entertainment with games and goodies. Rose loved the big bubble-wands they brought, just perfect for holding up in the wind on the pier and creating huge bubbles for Joy's delight:


Joy, meanwhile, got a lot of mileage out of the swim-noodles that we bought on the way:


Wonderful weekend for water-play! The weather was warm and we had sunny skies for most of the sojourn. Despite the wind on the water, Uncle Marathon could always find a place to anchor the pontoon boat for the whole crew to take the plunge. Joy discovered what fun it was to lean back in the water in her life-vest and kick with her feet. And Rose was brave enough this time to actually jump from the boat:


The lake was at least a foot higher than it was a month ago, due to some rain and a strategically placed beaver dam. This made for some fine water-play down at the pier as well:



I suppose I should report that we finally broke our flawless chain of laxa-swim events. After a less-than-ideal diaper change on the pontoon boat the first time out, we managed to have the rest of the weekend's swims without going through more than one swim diaper. Whew. And in further toileting news, we did bring along the potty insert so that Joy could practice in the outhouse. I didn't have the stamina to take her for nearly as many scheduled trips as we do at home, but we practiced often enough that she did pee out there once!

Though it seems sometimes that the lake vacations never change, this time there was a new addition, engineered by the inlaws who own the larger share of the property and spend most of the summer up there: a new, not-quite-finished shower house.



It's quite a complex system. First you have to pump a tank full of water by hand over by the old pump. Then you have to fire up the generator so the sump pump can move the water over to the tank by the shower. Then there's switch mechanisms in the shower for heat and water pressure. Fancy stuff.

Of course, it wouldn't be a lake vacation without some explosive crisis. For some reason the girls and I are always down at the lake when the hollering starts. We were splashing at the pier when Uncle Marathon's voice raised the alarm, and his brothers burst out of the cabin (one out the front door, one out the back) to come to his assistance.

Here's what exploded this time:


Doesn't it look rather like an exotic flower? Alas, this is the remains of the hot water line coming into the shower house. The tubing was obviously not quite of a caliber to take the heat and the pressure, and so Uncle Marathon got an unfortunate surprise during his shower experience! (Auntie LO was the only one who got an uninterrupted shower earlier that afternoon. Lucky lady.)

Though we were there for Independence Day, we didn't take any explosives up with us. There's been a drought up there, and we weren't interested in risking a forest fire -- though it turned out to be rainy on Sunday afternoon into the evening, so even our grilling was soggy! The gray sky was still light when we put the girls to bed, and then we retired back to the screen porch to listen to the 1812 Overture that Uncle DO and Aunt LO had thoughtfully put on their MP3 player. Just as the cannons were firing, we noticed that the sky behind the cabin was producing shades of pink. As we ventured out to see, we discovered that the sunset had produced something else amazing:


This rainbow was huge, and complete. No way to get it all on the camera. It arced all the way across the sky, and from the end of the pier we could see the entire arc reflected in the lake as well. Full circle.

Northwoods Adventure: Why We Had to Come Ashore

So -- as we left things in the previous (inadvisedly cliff-hanger-y) post, we'd been summoned back to the cabin in a voice that brooked no dispute, without knowing why. The distance would have been an easy dash on land, but not from an anchored pontoon boat with the crew bobbing about in the water! Had to get everyone back on board, haul up the anchors, get the boat restarted despite a balky battery, then ease it back into the super-shallow water next to the pier. All without unduly scaring the young'uns... Rose in particular has such an imagination.

As you can guess, the adults on the boat had no trouble imagining a couple of dire health-related scenarios too. Just in case, I volunteered to keep the girls busy at the pier and let the guys go pounding up to the cabin to see what was up.

GrampaK was on the screen porch, trying to catch his breath. From the adrenaline. According to reports, the first words out of his mouth were, "The window exploded!"


He'd been sitting at the dining table with his back to the window in question, halfway across the room. All of a sudden there was a huge crash, and glass from the window came flying all over the room, some of it hitting him in the back and head. He escaped to the porch and was waiting for reinforcements to try and sort things out (and check for cuts, which fortunately were none).

Guess what they found on the kitchen floor, amidst the shards. A sizable hawk, somewhat dazed but very much alive! [Update: and here it is!]


We suspect that the hawk was stooping down on one of the birds that was nesting in the eaves of the cabin -- and that the nesting bird had a much better feel for its position relative to the cabin than that hawk did. The impact must have been full-tilt, probably deceived by the reflection of the woods in the glass.

JoyDad and Uncle Marathon tried to toss an old army-blanket onto the hawk, to wrap it up and get it out of the house without any close encounters with beak or talons. But the hawk wasn't as injured as all of that. It kept escaping as the blanket came down. Then it flew into the loft. The guys ended up chasing it all around with a broom before they finally got it out the door. Then they had to use the broom for its intended purpose. There was glass everywhere, strewn all the way across the cabin floor and furniture.

We actually only had one night with a tarp nailed over where the window should be. GrampaK and Uncle Marathon went to town the next day, and despite the holiday weekend, found someone to cut a pane of glass to the right size. They brought it back unbroken over bumpy roads, puttied it in, and with any luck, it'll last sixty years like its predecessor.

As long as the hawks steer clear.

[Great big additional update!]
Great googly moogly, y'all. It wasn't a hawk after all. It was a ruffed grouse!!

Photo from
http://www.wataxidermist.com/wa-taxidermist-GALLERY.html

Huge tip of the hat and a low bow to Kelly's bird-enthusiast son, from the comments. Now that he pointed me in the right direction, I can see it: the chicken-like beak instead of the hooked raptor-beak, and the dark band of feathers (broken in the middle) at the end of the tail.

I guess this gives us all something to grouse about?! :-)

Northwoods Adventures

As the holiday weekend approached and we watched the weather forecast for our northwoods getaway, we feared an adventure full of sweltering heat and vicious bugs. Several years ago JoyDad and Rose had suffered through such a Memorial Day sweatbox at the lake, barely able to step out of the overheated cabins without being carried off by mosquitoes and biting flies. (Other years, we've had snow at the end of May. You just never know.)

This year couldn't have been more beautiful. The sun shone hot at mid-day, but the air was dry and didn't hold the heat at night. In fact, everything was dry. The lake was low. But the drought meant that the bugs were at an all-time minimum for spring. It felt like mid-summer.

The dry roads meant we could go driving on paths that are usually too muddy or flooded -- and as we were out driving, we saw a black bear! He lumbered along ahead of us for quite a ways along the road before crashing his way into the forest. Fortunately we were several miles from the cabins at that point. Right next to the cabins all we saw were hummingbirds, eagles, woodpeckers, loons, ducks, and a little red squirrel!

Oh, and the two little crawdads I caught by hand as we cavorted in the shallows right off the pier. And the leech I brushed off my foot. Rose was wary of the muck and rocks in the lake, but Joy could have played all day. She splashed and splashed...


... and climbed the pier and jumped back in, over and over.


She also figured out how to "swim" by walking on her hands in the shallow water, pulling her body along behind.

All that exercise could work up quite a thirst. One meal Joy was sitting next to me and reached over toward my share with a big "more"! The most likely desirables were the beverages -- a tumbler of milk and a bottle of beer. I poured her a little glass of milk, but she's been on an anti-milk kick lately and pushed it away after one sip. The comment came from across the table -- "Hey, maybe she wants your beer!" And from Joy, the explosive echo: "BEE!"

One of the great pleasures of the lake vacation is the photography. Rose now uses the old digital camera we got back when she was six months old:


She's learning to identify wildflowers as well as capture them in pixels. Here's a pink ladyslipper:


And I found and photographed a nodding trillium:


Ah, but I haven't yet shared the biggest adventure of all. Splashing by the shore was fun, but the real action involved the pontoon boat (thank you Uncle Marathon, and Uncle DO who couldn't be there this time!)


Take the boat out on the lake, anchor in about 20 feet of water, tighten up the girls' life-vests, and throw 'em overboard! OK, not really. We threatened to do it to Rose, but she shrieked and insisted on climbing gently down the ladder. Joy wouldn't have minded -- any way into the water was fine. Uncle Marathon was eager to take the plunge as well...



One one such swimming excursion, we were anchored a ways out in front of the cabin, about half-way between the pier and the eagle's nest. GrampaK had stayed behind at the cabin to take it easy. We were glad that he was in good enough health to come to the lake in the first place, but swimming wasn't part of that package. So the rest of us were out with the boat, just getting started, when suddenly GrampaK's voice came rolling out over the water, calling Uncle Marathon by name. And then these words, urgent and chilling:

Come. Home. Come home now!

And then silence.

[to be continued]

Pot of Gold

We returned yesterday from our traditional bit of October insanity -- a three-day weekend getaway to the northwoods of Michigan's Upper Peninsula, where JoyDad's family has a couple of rustic cabins on a little lake in the back of the beyond. The October trip lets us help take care of closing down the property for the winter, taking the boat and pier out, this time with both JoyDad's brothers and father.

It's about seven hours in the car each way, this three-day weekend of ours, for the privilege of enjoying woodstove heating, cold water from a pump, cold outhouse. Plus this year, we'd been watching the forecast with dismay, as the Weather Channel hour-by-hour showed a greater than forty percent chance of rain for every hour of the dang weekend! I had visions of being cooped up in the cold cabins the entire time with the rain pouring down, trying to entertain two damp-bored-miserable kids.

Shouldn't have worried. Without rain, you don't get this:


And in fact, the rain was on and off, more off than on really. We got to go out in the boat, and Rose & I managed a (success-free) fishing run with the uncles. And while we were out fishing, one of the eagles that nests in the tree on the left of the above photo sailed about overhead, bringing branches to shore up the nest for the winter!

I went for a fine walk in the woods with Rose, and we took another one as a family, without even getting Joy too muddy! Her favorite stim for the weekend was long-stemmed grasses, so she did a lot of dropping to the ground in order to pick the next one. Joy also managed to escape her father's clutches and go walking into the lake at one point, while her sister was playing on the pier.

Lake-walk and all, Joy was a happy camper pretty much the whole time. I think she was relieved at the break from the incessant therapy that she gets subjected to at home. We did a lot of playing on the screen porch during the drippy-er bits of the weekend, and she let me take a whole sequence of photos where she looked right at me and did this:


And this:


I blew bubbles upon bubbles for Joy to pursue and pop, there on the screen porch. Rose got into the action too:


The two sisters enjoyed one another a lot this weekend:


So now it's back to reality, back to a whole lotta laundry, back to the therapy schedule and work and studies (which I ignored totally while up at the lake).

What a priceless getaway, though. Once again. Rain, rainbow, and all.

Random Tuesday Thoughts

JoyDad takes the wheel for a spin through a special Memorial Day Weekend edition of Random Tuesday Thoughts...

• We are blessed that Joy is a good traveler. I know some kids on the spectrum take exception to having their routines mangled by vacations and such, but Joy just seems to take it as it comes. She doesn't seem to mind the long car rides, strange places and stranger people (but hey, they are the only family I have...)


• A favorite activity for Joy this weekend was bubbles. Joy even tried popping them with her nose, which was too cute for words. And it is great to see her able to track individual bubbles with her eyes, and have repeated success in popping the bubble she is following.


• Another favorite activity for Joy was getting any available adult (and sometimes Rose) to help her to jump. And there were seven adults for her to choose from, so the opportunities were plentiful... She doesn't have a word for "jump," but she lets you know in no uncertain terms by coming up in front of you and grabbing both of your hands. She makes wonderful eye contact as she sails through the air, with a great big grin and squeals of delight.


• When she wasn't chasing bubbles or requesting the jump game, Joy also liked to play what we call the clap game. She'll put her hands on yours and make them clap. She does that a time or two, and then makes them miss with the other person saying a great, big "UH OH!"


• Rose loves going to the cabin. She didn't seemed fazed by the bugs, and spent a lot of time outside on the past-its-prime swingset and down by the pier. She is looking forward to telling her friends about it at school tomorrow. We printed out some pictures of key events (the restaurant meal in town the morning we arrived, the bald eagles nesting in a tree, the ride on her uncles' boat).



• The fish weren't biting but the bugs were. We took to describing the swarms of bugs as "biblical" in their epicness. And they must not have gotten the memo about how deet was supposed to repel them.


• Changing a tire on a large vehicle on soft sand is sub-optimal. The jack doesn't do a good job of staying put. But if you are going to drop said large vehicle onto its brake rotor, soft sand does less damage than pavement would. Don't ask us how we know...


• Have you ever tried changing a tire with about a gajillion gnats trying to suck every last drop of fluid from your body? Or chopping up a tree that has fallen on your garage while choking on a lungful of gnats? Let me tell you, you haven't lived until you've tried that. Bet you're jealous.


• Now that I think about it, I'd take using the outhouse when it's 20 below zero over the gnats any day, thankyouverymuch. Oh yes, I have used the outhouse at the cabin in the middle of the winter, with the outside temperature hovering around 20 below. Good times....


• Even with the bugs and lack of indoor plumbing, I'd still rather be there than here.


• JoyMama even managed to squeeze in a run on Sunday. She was smart and went early in the morning while there was still frost keeping the gnats at bay. Uncle Marathon and UncleDO wimped out. Although Uncle Marathon does get props for going swimming in the very cold lake.


• Hot and cold running water are not essential for humans to live. And it's nice to be reminded of what a luxury they are (especially the hot running water) by going without for a few days. I have partaken of the soap and hot running water since our return to civilization, so y'all can take the clothespins off your noses.


• Our cabin and lake in da U.P. are about the only things that have remained constant in my life. The lake still looks the same as it did when I was a wee lad, the cabin looks and smells just like it did way back then. I'm glad that JoyMama and the girls like to go up there, it holds a lot of memories for me, and hopefully there's a lot more left to be made...