Rain

Last night, once again, rain was forecast.  It didn't rain.  The drought continued.  It was water the gardens again, or take desperate measures. 

While waiting for someone who wanted to dig up plants, I took cushions out to the lawn furniture and got comfortable with a book. In five minutes, it began to rain.  I took the book inside, but it was too late for the cushions, which were soaked.  The people showed up and decided there was no point in going into the gardens in the rain.

Ten minutes after they left, the thunderstorm was over.  It will take days for the cushions to dry out but I left them out there anyhow.  

Mid-afternoon, I weeded the vegetable garden.  I looked at the garden tools and carefully laid them on the back deck and said to the clouds above, "I'll put them away later."  The next thunderstorm rolled in fifteen minutes later. 

For the rest of the day, whenever clouds approached from the west, I challenged them.  I left a car window open, just a crack and sure enough, another shower.  I took a walk and came back wet.  I didn't mind at all, in fact, I danced home in the rain. 

The gardens are perking up nicely.  I think I am on to something here. 

Maybe I'm a rain goddess. 

 

Short Stories

In July 2011, while on a tour for the summer reading program , I met Susan Weise, librarian at Augusta, Montana, population 284. Because her patrons were too busy and too few to have a book club, she started a short story club. The readers come to the club prepared because while they don't have time to read a book each month, they can read a short story.

I thought that was a great idea, and when I came back, I suggested the idea of a short story blog to our critique group.  Wade Peterson jumped at the idea and we've been writing stories for Black Coffee Fiction http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com ever since, alternating weeks.  Today, I posted my 20th story.  Not every story is a blockbuster, but there are some that are pretty darn good.

Today's story is "Love and the Colonoscopy", the sixth story in a series about Sheila and her life, starting with "Love in the Sixties" and following her story through the decades. In two weeks, I finish the series, then go on to new topics.

Wade and I do quite a bit of this thing.  He has a couple of minor superheroes called Michael and Corncob who have shown up twice and will be back.  Then there's another with an annoying talking sword called Balance. Is it obvious that Wade writes fantasy?

My depressing Christmas stories were recurring as well, with characters weaving their way into other stories than their own.  I almost have enough for a book, so I will return to these as we get closer to the holidays. There are so many ways to be depressed at Christmas.

To celebrate our first year of short stories, we plan to self-publish a collection, both in paper and as an e-book.  All of this while working on our individual blogs and writing novels.

Sometimes, all it takes is starting and sticking to a project to get results.   

Pouting Cat

I feel guilty when we go off on our camping trips, leaving our old cat Rascal alone. On Tuesday night, I dreamed that I found him dead when I returned and wondered what to do about it.  I decided I would double bag the body and put him in the freezer until Gary and I could have a suitable funeral.

I told Gary about it the next morning and asked him what I would do if Rascal died. "Put him in the freezer, of course," he said.  We have our plan.

When I returned to Seymour yesterday, I stopped at the grocery store for a broasted chicken thigh, as I always do, to placate Rascal, who was home alone save for my neighbor Elaine coming over to feed him and son Chris stopping in to take care of his litter.

Rascal, who was alive after all, ate the chicken then demanded to be let out to check the perimeter of the property.  He does not approve of Mittens and Koala next door going into the gardens.  

When he came back in he demanded my lap for what Gary calls cat therapy.  He butted at my hands until I scratched his ears for him.

Next, he wanted cat food from a can.  He knows how to communicate his needs, but does not have opposable fingers (thumbs) so he can't open cans or get into the refrigerator. I do have my uses.

Still feeling guilty, I catered to his demands, but by today, he was getting annoying.  I have work to do so he can't be on my lap all the time.  Demanding to be fed four or five times a day is too much.  He has dry food he can work on.

Finally, I used my head and my opposable thumbs to open up yet another can of cat food, but inside was ground up chicken, which he doesn't like.

So now he is sitting here in my office, refusing to eat and pouting with plaintive meows.  It isn't working any more.  Not until I come back from the next camping trip.  

Last Day at Lost Lake

Yesterday, I had one last day at Lost Lake.  Gary will stay until Thursday but I have things to do here in Seymour.  We put a lot into that one day however.

We began with a trip to Florence where we visited the new St. Vincent de Paul.  I found a wonderful pants suit, perfect for me, but I told Gary the problem with it was that it was perfect for occasions I didn't want to be any part of!  I bought it anyhow for $2.25.  

We visited the wonderful ice cream parlor with its multitude of flavors.  I tried Lady Bug, which is French vanilla swirled with chocolate, caramel and pecans.  

At the Wild River Interpretive Center, we chatted with the attendant who has been there for years and knows all the gossip.

Gary bought a sub sandwich at Subway and we carried it off to Perch Lake which is part of the Lauterman Trail system.  I solo camped at a walk in site years in a brilliant September autumn, but then drought hit the north and the lake dried up to a big mud puddle, so sad.  I am happy to say, the lake is slowly recovering.  This day there were white fragrant water lilies and yellow bullhead lilies as well.   We sat at a picnic table, ate our meal and took it all in.

I wasn't ready to call it a day, so hiked around Lost Lake again.  As I began to walk, a shadow crossed my path.  I looked up and it was the osprey.

The trail follows the lake shore.  It is easy hiking as long as one keeps an eye on tree roots.  

Every so often, one of the giant trees ends its life in a windstorm.  The national forest rangers come through and cut sections out for people like me to pass though I am perfectly capable of crawling over a log.

Near the boat landing, there's a tepee some children created.  

I wondered how they managed to make their little cave then went around the back and found out that they had built it against the roots of a fallen tree.  The tepee has been there for a year or two.  I wondered if any of the woodland creatures had wintered in it.  No sign of any and now there are people passing by every so often.  No creature would want that much human company.

Late in the day, I was resting beside the fire when Gary came up from the shore to tell me to get my camera.

A bald eagle was calming perched above our canoe, waiting for something.  Gary thought it might be the osprey.  Our white headed friend was still there at sunset, ready to chase his mortal enemy away.

I left Lost Lake this morning, but there was one more surprise for me. As I drove, I was listening to public radio. A retired Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources warden was talking about his book and how to report problems.  Just south of Moody Lake, a flock of crows were chasing a large bird.  I looked up to see what was going on, when the big bird swooped down.  It was an eagle and he missed the car by a feather.  I am so glad I didn't hit our national symbol but if I had, I would have known exactly the number to call: 800 TIP WDNR.  

Gadgets

Strong winds blew across the lake last night which would have made little difference to our sleeping except for a tree nearby that split some time ago, with one side falling against another tree.

All night the two trees rubbed together, making a loud groan that was a cross between a sobbing child and a yowling cat.  Or, rubbing together in ecstasy, Gary said.  I guess it depended on your viewpoint.

Because I am the first up, I am the one who goes out to the cook tent to make tea on our camp stove.  I bought this stove around thirty five years ago. My then husband smoked Raleigh cigarettes and in each pack there was a coupon.  I saved and saved for almost two years to get enough to order the Coleman cook stove through the mail.  The cigarettes were a lousy investment but the camp stove was well worth it.  It is old and sometimes greasy, but it keeps on working.  We have a newer stove but it is not as reliable.

Gary gives it a good cleaning each winter and does his best to keep the rust down.  Sometimes, in cold weather, the elements get a little frisky and throw the flames up too high, but they settle down quickly as the stove warms up.

I put the kettle on, go into the warmth of the camper and in exactly eight minutes, the kettle whistles and I go out again to make our tea.

An innovation this year is the screen door. We saw it advertised on television and together said Eureka! I am not a person who needs a lot of gadgets to camp. I need only a tent and a sleeping bag.  Gary, just the opposite, even brings a trivet and a tea cosy along.  But the screen door we both liked. It was more than we ordinarily would spend, but it was just what we needed.  The screening is split down the middle with matching magnets on either side.  We push through the door, our hands full of plates, cups and  silverware, and it snaps together behind us automatically with a series of clicks.  We've had no problem with flying bugs inside the camper this summer.

We get better and better at this camping thing.

Tonight the temperatures will plummet to the 30's F.   Even this minimalist won't mind having a furnace.



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Weather

Gary came up to Wisconsin's north woods toward the end of May, camping first at Laura Lake then moving here to Lost Lake.  Other than three days in May, I stayed at home to do the gardening, digging into dry ground to remove weeds and working up the soil for the many plants I purchased with a gift certificate from the church on my retirement.

I left Seymour on Thursday with the gardens at the front of the house complete.  I had purchased plants and filled pots all around the house.  I watered everything thoroughly and left secure with a weather forecast for rain on Saturday.  The rains never came and now the forecasters are suggesting that central Wisconsin could have something that has never happened before, a dry June.

It is very likely that many of the things I planted last week will not survive the drought.  I am philosophical about that except that I could have been spending those many weed-hacking days enjoying the camping here in the north, where the weather has been as close to perfect as can be.  It rains at night making for cool sleeping and is sunny during the day.  When it is warm, there are sweet breezes to moderate the heat.

I return to Seymour in two days to take care of Rascal the Cat and consider the summer.  The past three summers were bad for gardening because of my health, travels and bad weather.  Would my time be better spent in the forests?  

Tending the Forest

It's been another day in paradise.  The temperatures may have been high, but the steady breeze kept us comfortable.  We sunbathed, read and this morning, I hiked around the lake.

Part of the hike was to get some exercise, but I was being nosy, too.  Across the lake there are cabins that are rented out.  Originally built as a Civilian Conservation Corps headquarters during the Great Depression (the last one, not this one!) Last year, as part of an economic recovery project, all the buildings were renovated.  It was a good project, using federal money to revive a bit of history and at the same time, create jobs especially necessary in this hard hit area. They do look impressive.

The problem for us was that the previous caretakers, Mary and Marty, lost the work they'd had for years and years, and didn't come back.  Mary and Marty were good friends we miss.  I especially  am sorry to lose our swaps.  Mary had me come over to the cabins to do storytelling for our use of the shower facilities.  Now, we camp for a couple of weeks here and get pretty gamey, unless our shower bag that hangs from a tree warms up enough.  We can swim, of course, but we can smell a bit fishy and have sand in our various crevices when we do that.

Still, the hike was lovely through the shade of giant trees, including hemlocks.

I took photos of the blue flag irises and in doing so, found out where the loons are nesting.

I stopped at the boat landing to check out the new dock, built to be wheelchair accessible.

All in all, a lovely day with one exception.  The people at site 10 decamped, but left a fire merrily burning, on a windy day with fire warnings up all over the area.  Gary and I went over and doused the flames with water.

What were those campers thinking!  Not only was a forest fire possible, destroying acres of pristine timber, people like us could have been killed!

People often ask me if I worry about bears.  No, humans are much more dangerous.