Labor Day Weekend

We did nothing all day but as Gary says, “We did it rather well.”

The campground was full of Labor Day revelers, with lots of drinking and carrying on. There were many children around, shrieking to their hearts content with no teachers or parents telling them to pipe down. There's a gradual hill leading down to our campsite, so the boys on bikes and skateboards came down with appropriate vocalizations.

At campsite 14 there were three dogs that yapped when anyone went by to use the toilets. I took to taking the long way around to avoid them. They weren't on leashes so sometimes decided to run at me. “They wouldn't bite,” they assured me but then the only times I've been bitten were by dogs that “wouldn't bite me.” I like dogs, but mostly dogs I know well.

At campsite 15, there was another dog, poor thing. The people rented a trailer that was brought to the site for them. They went off boating and swimming, leaving the cocker spaniel inside the camper. From the standpoint of the dog, they had abandoned him in a strange place so he barked and wailed for hours.

We sat outside in the sunshine and talked about going out onto Lake Ottawa in the canoe but the speedboats with massive engines were towing water skiers leaving wakes. Finally the noise drove us into our own camper which is somewhat soundproofed and took two hour naps.

This evening, the campers are beside their fire pits and the boats pulled into the docks. We finally went out in the canoe, roaming around old haunts. The eagle was nowhere to be seen but the loons were chortling as if to celebrate their release from humans. We skimmed over to a rock pile out in the water where we sometimes take lawn chairs to sit half submerged on really hot days. At one end the rocks jut out of the water and there sat a common merganser. He complained and slipped off on the other side to swim away. I was sorry we disturbed him.

And so we roamed around the lake until the sun set.

Let the weekenders enjoy themselves. By Monday night they will be gone and we will have all of this glory to ourselves until September 20 when Gary will move the camper to Laura Lake where we will stay until the campgrounds finally close for the winter on October 10.   

Hardware, Haircuts and Fish

I had to get up early this morning to finish writing this week's short story. I began writing about an obsessive housewife and wound up writing about a small town hardware store. The housewife disappeared but will likely show up in another story some day. I have a nice collection of ideas so I don't expect to run out of stories in the future.

Our Internet service appears and disappears here in the northern woods.  When all else fails, we drive in to Iron River and Angeli's Supermarket where we can always get on line. That is what happened today. Because we were in Iron River anyhow, we decided it was time for haircuts. We were both getting shaggy. Gary had been to Josie's once before so we decided have her cut both our locks.  Her fee is a mere $10 a cut. I figured my hair would always grow back before my next book talk. No appointments were necessary, she only took walk-ins.

While we waited in the barbershop I looked over the magazines.  They were mostly about hunting, fishing and the military. I watched Josie cut the hair of the client before us.  She had a high powered electric cutter that not only trimmed but sucked up the hair as she worked. No brooms were necessary in this shop. I had seen trimmers like that in the barns at the county fair ... and in movies about raw recruits.

When I sat down I said, "You gave haircuts in the military, didn't you?"  Sure enough, Josie was a barber in the U. S. Air Force.  The haircuts from were fast and furious.  They weren't the careful trims I get from Melissa at Hair Graphics (she even trims my eyebrows) but Josie's are neat and do the trick. Gary went next and soon we were at Angeli's where I could post my short story.

It can be found at http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com

Sometime this week we will received our 15,000th "hit", quite an achievement as we come to the end of our second year of posting short stories.

This evening another outing.  We met Brad and Marilee, their son Ryan and his friend Matt at Fritz's in Long Lake where we would introduce them to that Wisconsin tradition: the Friday night fish fry. It was a time of laughter and camp talk. Ryan and Matt will be hiking around Laura Lake, a great adventure for them. Matt has never seen a bear in the wild.  I wonder if he will this time around?

And so our day ends.  I've been up since 5:00 a.m. so I am calling it an early night.




I

Working and Vacationing

Today I wanted to finish the short story I must have by tomorrow, but things never quite work out the way I think they will.

Gary said we had to go to Iron River to get something.  I thought about refusing to go along but it seemed to be important. We wound up at a jewelry store. No, not for a diamond for me, but to pick up my key chain which he had engraved. This way, if I lose the key (likely) the person who finds it can call me.

We had lunch at the Beefaroo, which has a marvelous spinach salad, stopped at St. Vincent de Paul (nothing new there),got gas for the generator, and then hurried home because company was coming to our campsite.  And sure enough, Brad and Marilee arrived. We met them at Beaver Lake some years ago, and have kept the friendship going.  Brad and Gary share insults about the Bears and Packers. Marilee and I commiserate about our partners in life.

It began to rain. We sat in the cook tent and chatted.  We agreed to meet tomorrow night to celebrate Gary's 19th anniversary of sobriety at Fritz's in Long Lake.

Tonight, rain pounds on the roof of the camper.  It will be cool sleeping.

Somehow, I haven't finished the story, so the alarm will be set for 5:00 a.m. The story is almost complete but it will still take two or three hours of hard work.  And who knows what tomorrow will bring? 

Lake Ottawa

I joined Gary at Lake Ottawa this afternoon.  I will be here for at least a week.  On the other hand, he might go to Seymour for a day or two in which case, I would stay here even longer. Only one of us has to check on things down there.

Lake Ottawa is in the Ottawa National Forest in the Upper Peninsula.  It is near Iron River, so we will not have to drive such long distances to get groceries and other supplies.

It is cooler here than it is farther south but still a bit humid.  The solution was to jump into the cold 500 acre lake at sunset and paddle around until our body temperatures have been lowered.  By then the night breezes were blowing.  Gary turned on the air conditioning fan to pull those breezes into the camper.  By the time we go to bed, we'll be pulling quilts onto the bed to stay warm.  Great sleeping weather.

Big news!  Gary actually threw out one of the chairs he had accumulated, bringing us down to a mere eleven, but I look at that as a major step.

Tomorrow I'll have tea with Anita Joy, our camp hostesses with the most-est who will be 82 years young this next week. What should we give her?  She has every trinket one can think of around her camper.  One year, someone from the national forest service tried to get her to take down all the knic-knacs, flowers, and signs but the campers rose up and complained.  Anita and her stuff are still here. The forest service rep is gone. We all love Anita and will take her side every time.

We are thinking a bouquet of balloons but are up for suggestions.

Hot and Humid

Whenever there are high heat warnings from the weather forecasters, they tell viewers to keep an eye on senior citizens who could suffer. They should be checked on frequently. Today, I realized, I am a senior citizen and perhaps someone should check on me.

Today I ran the local writers' tent at the farmers' market here in Seymour. Susan and her two grandsons helped me set up the screen tent, then I was ready for a long sit.

The sun was beating down on those of us selling our wears but not on many purchasers. I read, did puzzles and talked to other vendors. I had an chest full of ice and dipped my cup in from time to time. A few people stopped by, not to buy books but to talk about books they intended to write.  And the heat index rose.

I took two breaks to go to the mini mall adjacent to the market:  first, to go to the post office to have our mail held for another week; and second, to go to Family Dollar to use their rest room and to buy some chicken salad and crackers for lunch.  I went back to the tent and perspired some more.

I talked to more people, ate some Storheims' frozen custard (Death by Chocolate), bought some vegetables. And it got hotter.

After three hours, a new vendor arrived, a young man with some lovely metal sculptures of trees along and some interesting jewelry.  He had a table and a chair but no cover from the shade.  I asked him if he would be all right and he said sure.  He had two bottles of lemonade. In fifteen minutes, he had finished off the lemonade.

Even with cover, a tree overhead and a cooler full of ice, I felt myself getting sick.  I called the young artist over and made him an offer.  He could have my screen tent.  I don't have any expectation of coming back to the farmers' market. Gary and I will be camping all the way into October.  If by chance I do find time for the market in the next six weeks, he and I will share it.  Meanwhile, he's got shade.  And me, I could leave without having to take down the tent. And remember, I bought that tent for $1 at a rummage sale.  No big loss.

I threw all the books and my chairs into my car and went directly home to take a very cold shower.

Walking the Dog Days

It's the Dog Days of August, hot, humid, miserable. I want to keep on walking, but that means exercising early in the morning or late at night.

Tonight, I walk alone on the streets of Seymour.  Through bay windows I can see people inside their homes watching television as their air conditioners hum. I remember back to the days of my youth when people sat on their porches to get cool breezes. In those days, people would have been calling out to passersby like me. Now, just quiet.

Overhead, the bats are flying.  I doubt they are catching much, mosquito season seems to be over. Maybe they are eating the moths circling the street lights or the cicadas chirping in the bushes.

I stop at Don's to get some chewing gum and to see who's around.  The entire city council is there shopping after their Monday night meeting. I talk to the city clerk who says it's a quiet month in Seymour. There are some issues about the recent strong winds in the area.  The tornado siren failed to sound. The county will have to explain about that.

I walk south over to Rock Ledge Park but the skies are getting darker. It could rain soon. It makes sense to circle around my home so I can get home quickly when the rains start. I circle around the elementary school which is well lit.

When I figure I've walked two miles I go home.

Gary is on line from Lake Ottawa in the Ottawa National Forest in the UP,  telling me he has been walking around, too. In two more days, I will be there walking with him.

Chairs

While I was home here in Seymour taking a nap, Gary was moving the camper and all his gear to our next destination, Lake Ottawa in the Ottawa National Forest in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

I loved Stevens Lake but Gary prefers Lake Ottawa.  What is the difference?

I like simplicity in my campsites.  I want them private, surrounded as much as possible by shrubs and trees.  I want quiet. I want scenery. The Stevens Lake campsite was perfect to my way of thinking, but then I like camping in a tent.

Gary likes scads of camping gear.  Our camper fit perfectly on site 1 at Stevens Lake but there there was no room for the cook tent, the extra gear that Gary brings along.  There was also no room for twelve chairs.

Why does Gary have twelve folding chairs of varying kinds?  Because we are a throwaway society and Gary is a dumpster diver. He always checks the national forest dumpsters and what he finds are chairs.  Many chairs. People come to campgrounds with folding chairs.  Like women in shoe storms, they hate to admit that they are not bringing chairs commensurate with their sizes. Sooner or later those chairs collapse.

Usually, all it takes to repair the chairs is a screw. Gary stops at Bigari's Ace Hardware in Iron River, find the correct screws and repairs the chairs.  He has found some really nice chairs. The Cabeleas lounger sells for around $60 and it was ours for the cost of a $1 screw.

I particularly like his latest find, a Swiss Gear heavy duty canvas chair worth $40.  It is large and comfortable and can take 300 lbs of weight.  Apparently that was not enough. It comes with a pocket cooler that I don't use for beer but for books.

What I don't understand is why we need every chair when we camp.  There are two down at the lake shore, two at the fireplace, two under the awning, and perhaps two in the cook tent.  That's eight chairs.  Why the other four?  For all the visitors we might have?  So far, we haven't had twelve visitors at any given time.

But Gary is a pack rat and a dumpster diver.  He can't help himself.

It really would help if people took those chairs home and did their own repairs.