The wind has died. The rain has stopped, and it’s Saturday morning and we’re dry. Yesterday we had a steady wind blowing through at 23mph – most of the day the water in the cove ran ‘white-horses’. Nothing like a hurricane, but enough for us to hear three trees snap somewhere in the woods across the cove. With the rains I think the ground must have softened enough to cause some of those big beasts to either topple or crack.

At this time it’s perfectly quiet and my coffee is just about ready to pour. The cold front came through so now it’s 37 degrees outside. Better yet, it’s a perfect 61 degrees inside – ‘perfect’ that is until Marcia gets up; that’s when the heat gets turned on. A hot coffee is just what the doctor ordered.

”Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,–
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.” ~ To Autumn (stanza 3)
~ John Keats 1795 – 1821

Sylvan Circle Artist and Artisan Tour – The tour was absolutely perfect. Great art, touring on back roads with cars made just for such travel, and a lunch served in the basement of a little church by the church ladies. It was wonderful.


Looking about the church I spotted a framed sheet signed by (possibly) every member of the church pledging their abstinence of any “Intoxicating Liquors”. This was as Prohibition became the law of the land. What a fascinating piece of history.


The morning after – the Sylvan tour that is. I went to get something outside and noticed something strange, the back window on The Duck had blown in. Nothing had hit it, not even an arrow as one person suggested.

Seems that tempered glass has a bit of memory and will tolerate stress damage to a point and then call it quits. Two hours of cleanup later I had a clean opening where there had once been a window.

Now, here in the north woods, finding a repair place able to re-insert a new window into a soft top takes effort. After a series of phone calls I located the only company in the area able to do it, in Sault Sainte Marie, an almost two hour drive away. I sent several photographs and all appears ok, except the car will be there one (possibly) two nights. This means that either Monday or Tuesday the old Dolly trailer will come out of storage to transport the little Duck for its repair (it has to be a no-rain day).

Marcia suggested I could save serious back and forth travel if I would just stay and sleep in the car. Yeah, right!

Last Happy Hour Pontoon Cruise – we hit it spot on, a perfect cruise on a perfect late afternoon. Marlene and Donn joined and we filled an easy hour and a half with happy banter. Most everyone was loath to dock at the end. The very next day the weather turned and since then it’s been rainy, much colder, and yesterday, the winds.



Jam Session – now that it’s getting darker earlier the desire to not just sit around in the evening means that we’re always open for something to get out; Wednesday it was the Jam Session at the local Curling Club (which does have a bar). Sure, I’ve heard better. Sure, I’ve hear different styles of music. But, these folk have at least as much fun and comradery as seen anywhere.

Finis – Mid week Marcia and I will celebrate our 48th Anniversary. I remember that I wanted bagpipes at the wedding. That idea was nixed. Last year I kayaked several miles across Big Basswood Lake to listen to and see pipers play outdoors on a dock; this year that idea too was nixed (by the same person who nixed it the first time). In its place I’m taking Marcia to the Red Top Inn for dinner (it’s one of the better eateries in the area) and we’re bringing Marlene and Donn as witnesses.

This evening we’re all off to the little Kynoch Community Hall for their annual roast beef dinner. Many of these events are held in late season. I part, they recognize that for us seasonal folk our food supplies are dwindling and no-one wants to stock up again.

Make it a great week and again, please keep the people affected by the floods in the Carolinas in your thoughts.


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