Lying

Dashing around buying power washers and groceries, I drove by the field across from Lake Doll. Last week these three donkeys were all lying in a pile next to the fence. This week it is warm again and they were nicely lined up for a photo. They looked so sleek and well-groomed, and unfailingly elicit the same response, "Aww, aren't they cute?"

Circling

In response to Apple's victory regarding its patented rectangle, Jim thinks we should patent the circle.

Circular things of beauty this morning:

A new beaded mala bag adorned by feathers,

And sweets for the car guys.

White Anglo Saxon Protestant

Wasp 1: Julie 0

Medically this picture could be confused for a nummular dermatitis if it were not for the history of intense focal fire and a wasp flying away. Wasps think the power mower is a really big wasp invading their territory.  I don't like wasps. They're mean-tempered and petty.

I have been called a W.A.S.P. before. I didn't like it either. Now I'm going to pout and drink coffee and plot my revenge. Mean tempered and petty. I'll show them.

Galehead, Number 47

Uh oh. Leaves turning in the mountains.

The Appalacian Trail is its usual ankle-turning rocky green tunnel.

 

Lifting mine eyes unto the hills.

Galehead Mountain from the hut porch.

A look back at the Hut.

And the summit reached under three hours.

Then there was one.

The last peak over 4000 to climb in the NH White Mountains is Mt. Carrigain. I am waiting for the gate to open so I can drive in to the trailhead. That knocks off 4 miles of a 14 mile walk. The road was being repaired after tropical storm Irene last year and still has not opened. Rumor has it that it will open sometime in September.

Sunday Drivers

Today is a hike to Galehead, with several stream crossings, a hut visit and summit to a leafy flat top. Yesterday Jim climbed back into the airplane after his long road trip.

He buzzed the Rogers' place, and after that, nearly circled the whole lake. All the Sunday people were out on the lake enjoying the last hurrah. Boat wakes make for bumpy landings.

Good hiking to all this week.

Rosebud

 To the Virgins, To Make Much of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will be dying.
  -Robert Herrick

Our neighbors at the lake named their camp Rosebud. In this painting there is no Rosebud next door. I painted her out. An artist can do that and still be telling the truth. Here lies Loretta, the brash and gaudy neighbor.

Wish I were there.

Number 46

Success on the trek to and from the summit!

Lower parts of the path made of tree roots and dirt.

Three stream crossings.

Upper parts made of rocks.

The breakout view at 4.9 miles was tremendous.

The base of the old fire tower made a level surface for the summit shot.

Lovely day on Garfield.

Mt. Garfield

Today I hope to take a photo of my own of Mt. Garfield, 4500 feet. It's a spiky mountaintop with an old fire tower foundation at the summit. Now that The Man has returned and can watch Daisy, I can attempt the 46th peak.

Book time is 6 hours, 30 minutes for a 10 mile hike. I'd better get going.

Return of the Cheesehead

His car is completely filled with a cooler

 that is completely filled with goodies from Wisconsin.

And now our refrigerator is completely filled with cheese curds

And our counter with string cheese and wieners.

Getting ready for winter the Wisconsin way.

Forecast: Lucky

Our neighbors to the west take a cruise in their party boat. One shaft of sunshine lights up the lobster buoy as a beacon.

I have been watching the television for weather to plan another hike at the end of the week. There is a high pressure system forecast for New England today and the next few days. No rain through the weekend.

The west neighbors pass by and leave some of their good cheer behind. The season slowly winds down.

What Low Tire?

The little blue air compressor that stays in the trunk of the Sissy Car has saved me on more than one occasion. This time I was out to get oil for popping corn. Mary had inspired me to pop corn the old fashioned way, in a kettle with heated oil over a stovetop flame. So nothing like a low tire was able to stop the popper.

Mine, mine, mine

Today I will study first hand the psychology behind hoarding.

Today I tackle the Room Beneath the Stairs.

Dark music will play, a face mask will appear to block the mold spores, and I will dive in to recover treasures last seen a couple years ago. Hope to resurface sooner rather than later.

Idle Hands

For a fairweather lake resident, when it's raining, activities other than being outdoors can occupy the time.

I wondered about taking a picture of the loons halfway down the lake.

Only 5 minutes passed to figure it out. Insert the camera to abut the ocular of the telescope. Focus. Snap.

Be forewarned.

Some loons don't like their picture taken and will flip you off.

A Unique Adventure

"...

But never met this fellow,
Attended or alone,
Without a tighter breathing,
And zero at the bone."

- Emily Dickinson

Daisy had finished her nighttime romp outdoors and was enjoying her cookie before bedtime. She had fallen to the floor in her enthusiasm. When I reached down to put her back on her feet, I spotted something coiled next to the cupboards.This is something I can happily say has never happened to me. Until now.

Are you kidding me?? It uncoiled and started toward the center of the house. I grabbed my camera. Snap. Then I grabbed a towel to guide the thing to the door. It crawled into a crack between the wall and the cupboards.

Now I know how those people on PBS felt when they opened the closet to a black mamba. This may put an end to prowling at night with the lights off.

Twists in the Trail

Soft underfoot, resilient, quiet as a shadow, we make our way through the woods on a mossy trail.

It makes me think of food, of course; the green chard and pepper juice of a couple nights ago.

Some people follow a rule avoiding all green food. That's a lot of avoiding, I think, as I look out at the woods behind the house, full of leafy greens. Those people say that Euell Gibbons died young even with all his natural foraging. His book, "Stalking the Wild Asparagus", was published 50 years ago. Same year as Jim's high school graduation.
There. The topics of walking, green juice, Euell Gibbons and class reunions all in one entry. It's a miracle.
By the way, Euell Gibbons died from complications of Marfan's Syndrome, a genetic disorder.
Next up, vampires and porphyria. That'll go nicely with the beet juice smoothie.

Cabin Fever

Daisy would not be able to wait for one of my long walks in the mountains. Jogging on the road is not all that entertaining. Yesterday I pulled a tiny but swollen tick nymph off my antecubital area after running in the woods, so I don't want to repeat that either.

If thunderstorms allow, golfing may be in order. It would be practice for the trip to Nebraska, not yet scheduled, but in the works. The clubs surfaced when I went downstairs to gather items for a garage sale this week. Maybe I'll sell Jim's Green Bay Packer putter while he's out of town. Cruella de Ville.

Boat Ride

Today Jim takes the SS Badger (Honey Badger) car ferry out of Ludington to cross Lake Michigan.

He'll be arriving at the home of the old Rahr Brewery, which became the Anheuser-Busch malt plant, and now is a grain storage facility,

 and also home of the Manitowoc Crane Company,

all things big and tall, and larger than life.

Road Trip

Jim headed off yesterday to his class reunion in Two Rivers.

Twelve hours of driving has led him west of Cleveland just before I-90 turns south into I-80. His GPS says 700+ miles.

I watched Daisy sleep. I might be the lucky one here.

Agni

There is nothing like starting your day with a fire.

With comfort, warmth, enthusiasm, and cheer; that's how this day will begin.

Paths Are Many

Talk of truth in my brother's blog made me think of my favorite T shirt from the Himalayan Institute, a gift to Jim years ago.

I love the mildly mangled English and can imagine Raj from The Big Bang Theory reciting the slogan.

Unity

An auspicious event occurred on the road, requiring acknowledgement.

All switches are on.

All is One.

Deep breath.

Move on.

It is, after all, only an odometer.

When it rains...

I woke to hear the doors blown shut by the wind and jumped up to get away from the flashing windows. The lake was in the direct path of a tremendous storm traveling east in the wee hours this morning. As a precaution, the electrical cords were pulled from their outlets, windows latched, deaf dog checked and noted to be sleeping peacefully. Downpour fills the boats and awnings.

It doesn't seem like we'll dry out unless we move west of the Gulf of Mexico.