Well Laid Plans

The plan was for me to meet Gary at our campsite at Lost Lake and then drive together to the Humongous Fungus Festival in Crystal Falls, Michigan.  And we almost made it, too.

After a second bad night of insomnia, I watched the early morning hot air balloon liftoff from my deck as I do every Burger Fest Saturday. The allergens wafted up from the gardens and I was soon operating through a haze and so it would be for most of the day.  I managed to pack up and make the drive north, but fell asleep when Gary took the wheel for the last part of the trip to fungus land.

We found the festival, drove up to and re-considered.  It was the usual Midwest festival, lots of noise and beer. I could not get excited about stumbling around for no other reason than to put a photo in this blog. Some philosopher once said that one of the joys of old age is the pleasure of not going. We admitted that it wasn't the festival we wanted to see, it was that big fungus, and that was somewhere else in the area, not at the festival grounds. You can find out more about the world's biggest fungus here   http://www.crystalfalls.org/humongou.htm


So we drove on through beautiful forest scenery.  We did stop for one photo, a picture of one of nature's surprises.  A tree had grown up in an unusual place and finally succeeded in cracking a boulder.

The tree is dead now, but its work is done.

We went on to Florence where I finally got to my favorite ice cream place.  We returned some books we took out at the library last week.  (I'll be signing myown books there in October.)

After that, I fell asleep.  I woke up briefly at Chipmunk Rapids while Gary filled our water jugs at the artesian well, fell asleep again then went into the camper and slept for three more hours.

So much for a planned day.  Maybe tomorrow will be more exciting.

Hot Air Balloons

It's Burger Fest weekend in Seymour. There will be celebrations in town tomorrow but I will be off because this weekend is also the Humungus Fungus Festival in Crystal Falls, Michigan and Gary wants to be there. Tonight, however, was my annual date at the hot air balloon rally with Evan and Those People He Lives With as Gary describes my little family.

Before we even got to the balloon field, Evan told me he had a secret.  It was something he had been practicing all week.  He had finally learned to ride a bike. He is eight, but he lives in the city and never had the chance to really work on it.  Now there is no stopping him.  His bike is too small now so I suspect he will have another at Christmas.

Then it was off to the liftoff which was late, because of the wind.  By 6:45 the wind died down and we in the audience of thousands on lawn chairs and blanket waved the balloons off as they went over our heads.

Evan was too excited about his bike so his daddy took him to the parking lot to ride around some more.  By the end of the day he had a scabbed and bloody knee.  Isn't that part of the process? I told him it made him look like a tough guy.  He said he would rather look like a smart guy.

The sun set and it was time for the glow.  Nine balloons sat in the field, lighting up the night with their burners as they towered over the audience below.  I'll let the photos speak:

Tomorrow, a giant fungus and the next night the Perseid Meteor Showers.  We're packing a lot into a weekend. 

Time to Move On?

I'm back in Seymour in Mathom House.  I'm here to go to the Burger Fest balloon rally with Chris, Tisha and Evan, my little family. Gary is still at the campground.  I'll join him on Saturday. These two days, I've been thinking about our home here and wondering what our future is here.

This past week, Gary and I looked at a possible house that we could move to in a year or two, a house in the north woods. It wasn't the house we want, but we agree we would like to live in the woods. We have to agree on our requirements.  I think at our age (we're both 69) we should have good access to health care. That means living closer to a metropolitan area than Gary would like. I have a long list of my requirements:  a good office in a quiet part of the house, a good walking path, a workable kitchen, and at least some gardening space.  In the north woods, it would mean raised beds with good wire fencing to keep the deer away.

Seymour is pretty conservative, but there are pockets of liberals that make life bearable for environmentalists and political junkies like Gary and me. I don't want to move to Tea Party Central.  If we pick an area, I want to go for a visit during an election year and look at the yard signs.  That works well with our schedule.  Gary and his family must sell a farm in Illinois before he'll have the money to buy our new home and that won't happen until the probate from his aunt's will is complete sometime in 2014.

I moved here thirty years ago.  I wanted Chris to have family and a good school.  He got those in Seymour. For a while I worked here as a choir director but that is past. I did a certain amount of volunteer work but I decided two years ago to stop volunteering and devote myself to writing.

I can keep track of friends wherever we move and once a month, I would drive down for play dates with my grandson.  I would reverse the order by camping in High Cliff Park or Hartman State Park during the summer and stay in motels in the winter.

It would mean selling this house, the house I've lived in for about thirty years.  When I moved in, I told friends that I have no intention of letting this house own me. I've never invested much in it. No new carpeting, very little paint.

So....am I ready to move on?  The answer is yes.  I never meant to live in Seymour as long as I have. Besides, some people fear change. I crave it.  

And More Critters

The chipmunk is getting bossy.  We slept a bit late this morning after thunderstorms came through.  There was no damage here, nothing like what happened in the Fox River Valley, but a lot of rain pelting the metal room of the camper.

When I finally went out to sit in a lawn chair, Chippy came right up to me, sat on his haunches and said, "Well, here I am being cute.  Where are the peanuts?"  I rectified the situation right away.

I hike around the lake again this afternoon and came across a nice sized garter snake.There are no worries about poisonous snakes in this part of Wisconsin. There are rattlesnakes and copperheads in the southwestern part of the state but all we get up here are garter and grass snakes.

I've always liked snakes. They have the neatest way of moving. This little guy looked at me, wriggled a little way off then waited for me to snap his photo.

There are lots of white-throated sparrows in the woods who love to have whistle offs with me.  There is only one bird with a prettier song around here and that is the hermit thrush.

In the mornings a couple of sandhill cranes that must be nesting nearby fly over our campground nice and low.  They must already be done with their parental duties so are free to fly off together.

This evening we drove to Goodman to have supper at the Stony Ridge Restaurant. I took along my camera because bears have been spotted along our route.  I had the Nikon ready all the way there and most of the way back but finally put it aside.  Sure enough, just as we went around a curve coming down Lost Lake Road, we saw a black bear sitting on the road.  He ambled off. Even if the camera had been ready, it was already too dark to get a good photo. It was our second bear sighting of the summer.

This must have been the Chipmunk Rapids bear.  Perhaps he was on his way to explore the garbage bins there. We won't mention it to the ranger.  A guy has to make a living somehow.

Another Critter Report from Lost Lake

After a weekend with many well behaved, non barking dogs, we got new campers.  There aren't as many dogs, but they are a yappy bunch.

One interesting set arrived Sunday evening, just as the rains began. We didn't get a good look at them, but Gary said he thought there were two smaller dogs and one big dog. Their owners had them in a medium sized tent.  Only fanatical dog lovers would share their tent with three wet dogs.

It wasn't until late yesterday that the rains cleared and I took a walk around the circle.  When I came to that campground, a dog rushed out of me with a deep "WOOF!" followed by a growl.  He was enormous, his back coming up to my waist.  I stopped in place and didn't move.  I've been walking for years.  If you run, the dog will chase you. There is no point in holding out a hand in friendship. The best thing is to be absolutely quiet and look the dog in the eye.  The man came running out to get the dog, who according to camp rules should have been tied up.

"What the heck kind of dog is that?" I asked.

"A mastiff."

First mastiff I've seen in my life.  In fact, it wasn't two small dogs and a bigger dog, as Gary said.  It was two big dogs and a much bigger dog.  A massive mastiff.

Today we had our first hummingbirds at Gary's feeders.  That was nice. Even nicer is that the chipmunk is finally making his appearance.  Up until now, I put out peanuts but he waited until dark to spirit them away. Today as he sat eating the peanuts, I explained to him the contract between us.  My job was peanuts, his job was to hang around and be cute.  No cuteness, no peanuts. I think we have a deal.

Every year we look for the black-backed woodpeckers here at Lost Lake.  It's the only place we ever see them in Wisconsin. I heard faint tapping this morning but wasn't able to locate the tapper.  Then we drove to the Lost Lake cabins, directly across from our campsite.  We were trying to find the hosts to arrange for showers there.  They were gone, but flying everywhere were black backed woodpeckers.  Another check mark for my Birds of Wisconsin checklist.

This afternoon, we were back at Chipmunk Rapids to get water from the artesian well.  My phone takes photos but I can't transfer them to this computer.  I can send them to Gary's cell phone and he can transfer them here.  So we experimented and this is the result.

Conscience & Courage

The Muehl Public Library's summer reading program includes an adult version. I've been participating for a few years.

I am supposed to read six books to fulfill the requirement of the year's overall theme: Underground. So far I've read a mystery by Nevada Barr that takes place in the Natchez Trace, one of the National Forest Parks and The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton, one of three suggested books that changed literature.(I'd already read the other two.)

One of the categories is the underground movements during WWII. I selected Conscience & Courage; Rescuers of Jews During the Holocaust, by Eva Fogelman. With nothing but rain, rain and even more rain, Gary and I holed up in the camper to read. I finished the book in one day.

Fogelman, a social psychologist, became interested in the stories of those who rescued Jews. Why did they do it? She began to track down these heroes to find out. Initially, she found out there were no comprehensive records but by talking to survivers in Israel and placing ads in newspapers she found countless stories of courage and valor.

She found  there were no complete answers. Sometimes, people felt morally obligated to save human lives, but oddly it was not always because of religious upbringing. In some cases, churches might cooperate with the Nazis. Atheists were as likely to take Jews into their homes.The Vatican ordered clerics to stay out of it, though many ignored those orders.  Some rescuers were concerned professionals such as doctors and nurses. Some diplomats worked tirelessly. I knew about Raoul Wallenberg, the Swedish diplomat, and Oskar Schindler, of Schindler's List. I didn't know about Sempo Sugihara, the Japanese consul, who ignored his orders from Tokyo and issued thousands of visas. Aristides de Sousa Mendes, the Portugeuse consul stationed in Bordeaux went even further by signing some 30,000 entry visas. Both Sugihara and Mendes were brought back to their countries in disgrace to die penniless, though after their deaths they were honored.

Most of the rescuers were in danger of worse treatment. Anyone hiding a Jew would get shot or hanged by order of Hitler. With one Jew or dozens it was the same punishment, so the rescuers figured why not go for bigger numbers. In one two room apartment, a teenager managed to hide thirteen Jews.

What interests me about this book is the question the author poses: What would I do? Would I hide a Jew? And in these days of increasing persecution of minorities, would I hide Muslim? An illegal imm

igrant? A whistleblower? A Trayvon Martin?

I like to think that I have what it takes to speak out against injustice, but would I put my life on the line? I would hope so.

Tomorrow, Gary and I will be going to the Florence library where I hope to find something to read that is a little more cheerful.

Critter Report from Lost Lake

Critter Report:

No bears have been reported in the area since the spring. I may take the hike to Chipmunk Rapids tomorrow to see what is happening in the blackberry bushes.  Or am I asking for trouble? 

We usually see black backed woodpeckers around campsites 23 and 24 but so far, no luck. I did hear a faint tapping near the Assessor's Tree, but couldn't pin that woodpecker down.  Hairy, downy and pileated woodpeckers work the trees around here, too. 

I was walking in the woods this afternoon when a young deer, just past fawn hood I thought, posed for me. She never moved at all, just followed me with her eyes.  I made no attempt to go toward her, but took a photo with my cell phone. Later I found out that while I could have sent it, I couldn't transfer the picture to my computer. 

Laura Lake is practically swarming with chipmunks but there seems to be only one around our campsite. I've only seen it twice. I put out peanuts for him, but he gathers them when we are gone or at night. What fun is putting out peanuts when I can't see cuteness in stripes and fat cheeks? 

Over the weekend, twenty-one of the twenty-seven campsites were occupied.  Many of the campers had dogs.  Usually when there are dogs in a campground, there is constant barking, but these dogs were extremely well behaved.  A pair of Dobermans were on site 9.  When I walked bye, they came out to take a look but their master said, "Sit" and they immediately stopped.  Gordon sat down but Sam stood in place. Their owner said they were both rescue dogs that needed a lot of work.  Sam still had not gotten the concept of "Sit" but he was learning.  

A black Labrador retriever escaped and showed up at campsite 25 still dragging his leash. A camper took him on a tour of the campground asking everyone if he belonged to them. The lab had that goofy lab grin as if to say, "Look at all the neat people I'm meeting!"  He'll be off and running again soon.  Labs are like that. 

And still no moose.