Sunday, October 12, 2008
Magical Moments
I am experiencing a very magical moment as I have acquiesced to my Son’s and Friend’s wishes and disappeared!!! Jeffy asked me to make a bonfire on the beach and I did so. I got a roaring fire going, chairs around it and out he came with his friends and girlfriend Lacie. He looked at me and asked, “so what are you going to do Dad?” I told him, “Disappear!” Boy, what a smile overcame his face. Little does he know I am sitting up here on the second story, in the dark, seeing every little detail of the bonfire and goings on---it’s like watching a movie, watching teenagers in an aquarium. In any case, I am brought back to being 15 again on Douglas Lake after a day of fishing and water skiing, and having a big roaring bonfire on the beach, trading jibes with my buds, flirting with some girls---wow, what a time. And now, I am watching my very popular, star athlete son doing the same thing only better---it is good to be Jeffy right now. Jeffy is living life to the fullest.
His girlfriend is “drop dead gorgeous” as they say, she has got to be one of the most sought after girls in the 5 county area, no lie. I haven’t had such luck since Botany Class at J.U. when I was mesmerized by a girl named Jomay sitting in the front row, asking all the questions I wanted to ask, but couldn’t formulate the words. She probably never noticed me, although she says she did---I was already an old fart in Mackinac Khakis, shuffling about, thinking I would be a bearded marine scientist in the Florida Keys, living on sunshine and whatever I could catch. I never imagined that I would be the proud recipient of the Worlds Most Beautiful Woman. How did that happen to me? I don’t know, but it’s a lot better than anything on Earth can offer being married to Jomay.
But now, I realize and look fondly on the fact that Jeffy might find his Jomay. He’s smart, talented, cute, athletic and NORMAL!!!!! Isn’t that great???? What more could a father hope for in this chaotic society? I have a son that likes school, math, fishing, football and girls!!!! Wow. Rest assured, I have been over and over with him on the rules of life, respecting women, etc. You know, I think he believes it, I think he has the Christian Heart afterall.
I woke up today anticipating a magical moment. I found so many of them. I just knew when I woke up there would be magic today. I just stepped back and received them. I knew that the moon would be close to full and got the telescope ready to see the man on the moon. I knew I would go to eat breakfast at the Country Girl Diner with my son and then take him to Church, to Worship the Creator. I knew I would come home and close up the work I had to do to be ready for my Contractor tomorrow. I knew that I would have the pleasure to talk to my wife. Indeed, that is the most important part of this magical moment---realizing I already have what most people want. Even, what Jeffy out there at the bonfire wants and is looking for---a life partner, a shining beautiful prize. Hey, already have mine. I certainly pray and hope you find yours too!!!
His girlfriend is “drop dead gorgeous” as they say, she has got to be one of the most sought after girls in the 5 county area, no lie. I haven’t had such luck since Botany Class at J.U. when I was mesmerized by a girl named Jomay sitting in the front row, asking all the questions I wanted to ask, but couldn’t formulate the words. She probably never noticed me, although she says she did---I was already an old fart in Mackinac Khakis, shuffling about, thinking I would be a bearded marine scientist in the Florida Keys, living on sunshine and whatever I could catch. I never imagined that I would be the proud recipient of the Worlds Most Beautiful Woman. How did that happen to me? I don’t know, but it’s a lot better than anything on Earth can offer being married to Jomay.
But now, I realize and look fondly on the fact that Jeffy might find his Jomay. He’s smart, talented, cute, athletic and NORMAL!!!!! Isn’t that great???? What more could a father hope for in this chaotic society? I have a son that likes school, math, fishing, football and girls!!!! Wow. Rest assured, I have been over and over with him on the rules of life, respecting women, etc. You know, I think he believes it, I think he has the Christian Heart afterall.
I woke up today anticipating a magical moment. I found so many of them. I just knew when I woke up there would be magic today. I just stepped back and received them. I knew that the moon would be close to full and got the telescope ready to see the man on the moon. I knew I would go to eat breakfast at the Country Girl Diner with my son and then take him to Church, to Worship the Creator. I knew I would come home and close up the work I had to do to be ready for my Contractor tomorrow. I knew that I would have the pleasure to talk to my wife. Indeed, that is the most important part of this magical moment---realizing I already have what most people want. Even, what Jeffy out there at the bonfire wants and is looking for---a life partner, a shining beautiful prize. Hey, already have mine. I certainly pray and hope you find yours too!!!
Friday, October 10, 2008
Water, Winter, Wonderland
I live in a Water, Winter, Wonderland. In fact, that used to be on the Official License Plate of the Great State of Michigan: “Water, Winter, Wonderland.” The turbid, stormy waters of the current financial, stock market crisis in the world parallels my own crisis here somewhat. There just aren’t enough people willing to swim with the tide and they panic and sell and on an on and what fools we are…
I however, have been swimming in well water and mudd. My geothermal heat pump guys told me that there were wide fluctuations in my water pressure and that over time that would wear on the pumps, heat pump and well pump. I have never been satisfied with my water flow here---despite being on one of the world’s most incredible aquifers---my outflow was about 5 gallons/minute at the spigot. My neighbor has about 60 gallons a minute of fresh clear 50 degree water, no lie. In fact, the well people told me they didn’t want to go deeper with my well because of the possibility of finding “catastrophic flows.” They showed me pictures of rivers they have created out here, by tapping into mother lodes of water. They have had to call in special teams that go around the world capping off heavy flow water wells.
Anyway, the geothermal guys were able to adjust the furnace to obtain adequate flows and I still had enough water for living, showering, brushing teeth, etc. However, guests have commented on how you have good flow in the shower for a couple minutes, and then it sort of trickles for awhile. So I went back to my well driller friends and told them my predicament. They told me I need another pressure tank to balance the flows. I had a 6 gallon pressure tank buried by the well and they put in a 10 gallon tank in the crawl space yesterday while I worked. I came home at lunch and they were gone. I went to the sink and had but a trickle of water. I now had about 3 gallons/minute and as the evening progressed, I didn’t have ANY water, nothing. I played with the shut off valve at the well, I went into the crawl space and checked all the fittings---having to dig thru a foot of pea gravel under flashlight, my fingers are still numb. I’m thinking this isn’t going to be good for Jeffy in the morning, needing to shower and smell good for homecoming and his girlfriend. However, I found a gallon of distilled water and put it by the bathroom sink for him and he managed to get ready.
Now, imagine, next to my house is a stream from the aquifer running at about 50 gallons/minute. Out front of my house is Lake Michigan. Less than a mile from the house is a heavily flowing RIVER and I have NOTHING. This can’t be right, I called the well people several times and got the answering machine. I called them at 1300, 1600, 2200 and again at 2400 as I emerged from the crawl space covered in mudd, but no response. At some point, I gave up and went to bed. In the morning I played with the curbside shut off valve some more and was able to get a trickle to clean up Abby’s piddle and make some coffee and brush my teeth. The well guy called, they would be out about 1500 and will work as long as it takes to get my water back. I went into town to the diner and had breakfast and watched their T.V. chronicle all of our losses, flowing like the neighbors well, into the pit. I went back home and busted butt all day finishing the insulation in the garage. The plumbing and heating guys came out to re-check my propane furnace in the big garage and diagnosed it as terminal, more bad news. Heat exchanger shot, not worth repairing, new furnace next week out there.
Anyway, the well guys did show up and dug out my shut off valve down into five feet of earth and found a very frozen ancient shut off valve that was leaking like a sieve. It has probably been leaking for years, just like my mutual funds. That would explain why I never had the water the guy who sunk the well told me I have. He said I should have 12 gallons a minute after the filter in the kitchen sink for crying out loud. But alas, I have only had 5. Now, with my two pressure tanks and new shut off valve, I can supply water to the city of Chicago. I can’t believe it---I have enough pressure to pressure wash old paint away. I only wish in my little microcosm of life that I could do the same for the world’s financial market, just replace a leaky old valve and get the flow back, but I can’t. However, it doesn’t matter, I am surrounded and infused with the best of living water. I can drink it, shower in it, fish in it, console my soul with it. This is a very good thing as I realize I will be the greeter at Wal-Mart in a few years. I can give medical advice as I give people their carts. But, I’ll be a happy man, going home to my little slice of heaven, my little piece of earth on the water.
I however, have been swimming in well water and mudd. My geothermal heat pump guys told me that there were wide fluctuations in my water pressure and that over time that would wear on the pumps, heat pump and well pump. I have never been satisfied with my water flow here---despite being on one of the world’s most incredible aquifers---my outflow was about 5 gallons/minute at the spigot. My neighbor has about 60 gallons a minute of fresh clear 50 degree water, no lie. In fact, the well people told me they didn’t want to go deeper with my well because of the possibility of finding “catastrophic flows.” They showed me pictures of rivers they have created out here, by tapping into mother lodes of water. They have had to call in special teams that go around the world capping off heavy flow water wells.
Anyway, the geothermal guys were able to adjust the furnace to obtain adequate flows and I still had enough water for living, showering, brushing teeth, etc. However, guests have commented on how you have good flow in the shower for a couple minutes, and then it sort of trickles for awhile. So I went back to my well driller friends and told them my predicament. They told me I need another pressure tank to balance the flows. I had a 6 gallon pressure tank buried by the well and they put in a 10 gallon tank in the crawl space yesterday while I worked. I came home at lunch and they were gone. I went to the sink and had but a trickle of water. I now had about 3 gallons/minute and as the evening progressed, I didn’t have ANY water, nothing. I played with the shut off valve at the well, I went into the crawl space and checked all the fittings---having to dig thru a foot of pea gravel under flashlight, my fingers are still numb. I’m thinking this isn’t going to be good for Jeffy in the morning, needing to shower and smell good for homecoming and his girlfriend. However, I found a gallon of distilled water and put it by the bathroom sink for him and he managed to get ready.
Now, imagine, next to my house is a stream from the aquifer running at about 50 gallons/minute. Out front of my house is Lake Michigan. Less than a mile from the house is a heavily flowing RIVER and I have NOTHING. This can’t be right, I called the well people several times and got the answering machine. I called them at 1300, 1600, 2200 and again at 2400 as I emerged from the crawl space covered in mudd, but no response. At some point, I gave up and went to bed. In the morning I played with the curbside shut off valve some more and was able to get a trickle to clean up Abby’s piddle and make some coffee and brush my teeth. The well guy called, they would be out about 1500 and will work as long as it takes to get my water back. I went into town to the diner and had breakfast and watched their T.V. chronicle all of our losses, flowing like the neighbors well, into the pit. I went back home and busted butt all day finishing the insulation in the garage. The plumbing and heating guys came out to re-check my propane furnace in the big garage and diagnosed it as terminal, more bad news. Heat exchanger shot, not worth repairing, new furnace next week out there.
Anyway, the well guys did show up and dug out my shut off valve down into five feet of earth and found a very frozen ancient shut off valve that was leaking like a sieve. It has probably been leaking for years, just like my mutual funds. That would explain why I never had the water the guy who sunk the well told me I have. He said I should have 12 gallons a minute after the filter in the kitchen sink for crying out loud. But alas, I have only had 5. Now, with my two pressure tanks and new shut off valve, I can supply water to the city of Chicago. I can’t believe it---I have enough pressure to pressure wash old paint away. I only wish in my little microcosm of life that I could do the same for the world’s financial market, just replace a leaky old valve and get the flow back, but I can’t. However, it doesn’t matter, I am surrounded and infused with the best of living water. I can drink it, shower in it, fish in it, console my soul with it. This is a very good thing as I realize I will be the greeter at Wal-Mart in a few years. I can give medical advice as I give people their carts. But, I’ll be a happy man, going home to my little slice of heaven, my little piece of earth on the water.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
The Color and the Redd
It is with profound sadness that I have said goodbye to my last salmon fishing visitor today. Eddy headed off back to Virginia about 0430, the last of the Marines. I put the Marine Corps Proud Red Flags away in a safe place and then put up my salmon rods for the winter. As I sit here and write and look out at the quarter moon over Lake Michigan, a flood of memories hits me from the journey of the last two weeks. I remember going out on the boat out front of the house and being just as amazed as Colonel Scott W. about the number of salmon jumping around us in 10 to 30 feet of water as we trolled. We didn’t catch anything that morning, but I have to say it was one of the most beautiful and enjoyable moments of fall salmon fishing for me. The wind laid down, the sun came up in it’s glorious fullness---and Scott and I enjoyed the glory of a sunrise on Lake Michigan---all the while listening to our comrades at the river mouth, and seeing them run up and down the beach fishing for the fish going up river.
The shooting was also enlightening. I can’t believe that I can now hit a bulls-eye on a target with a hand gun. I went from hitting the board the target was on with one shot, and the dirt with the other shots---to now hitting the money. Thanks for that Colonel W., I will go back to the range this week with the pistols you arranged for me to shoot and hit a few more centers for my teacher!!!
It was “nagnanimous” to come back to “Camp” by the way Dr. Todd, and have incredible meals waiting for us. I think if Todd decides to give up doctoring, he will give Emeril a run for his money. Did he give us a kick off and change of pace or what? I honestly didn’t know they cut steaks that thick. What was that---almost 3 inches I think. And it was incredibly enjoyable to eat the “maters” and peppers from his very own garden. The kids in town are still talking about the white convertible mustang and the trip to Jeffy’s football game. Thanks for doing that again Doctor! Thanks Todd for freshing up the party and putting up with a bunch of smelly old guys! I now know more about football thanks to Todd than any dumb dad who majored in guitar and girls in high school but never went out for sports.
The salmon cooperated for some of us---most notably Ed, who took back as much fresh and smoked salmon as he wanted. Eddy does like to catch the “bite” at the River Mouth doesn’t he? It’s fun to watch him go!!! Then, there’s Jeffy, who on his first trip to the river at the high gravel, fairly hooked a big king salmon in the mouth on his Grandfather’s Fly Rod and landed it on his first hour on the river. There were many very experienced fishermen with me who didn’t do that this year, so he’s pretty proud of himself. In fact, even those who didn’t catch salmon are pretty happy that happened to Jeffy. The other guys who visited me, Dr. Todd, Mike, Scott, Ron and Ed were a joy and a lot of fun to have around. I was a little anxious about the fireworks off the beach at ONE A.M. at first, but in retrospect realize it didn’t hurt or wake anybody up---and they were quite amazing fireworks.
We all knew that the salmon run was just beginning while they were here. There were scattered fish up on the gravel REDDS, but they were hard to catch, and not the usual number of egg-sucking rainbows present either. I got up early this morning before Church and hit the river, and yes, was dodging salmon around my legs. Sorry guys, you just missed the “mother lode” as Mike said, by a few days. That’s life, always a minute too short I guess. But, that’s one of the reasons I decided to move here---I can watch the fish come up, peak, and fade away and fish when I want to. You’ll just have to come back, and you are invited always, every year, forever if you want to, to help me enjoy and appreciate this incredible water wonderland.
For me, having caught more salmon than I can count, the pinnacle of this year’s fall fishing was Lake Fishing. I had the pleasure to have a “World-Class” Fisherman on my boat, Mike L. Mike helped me go from blue to red in terms of catching fish and “tasting blood”. I have fished with a lot of fishermen, from fishing guides in the Bahamas, Florida Keys to Alaska, but none of them was as knowledgeable and enjoyable to fish with as Mike. For the first time, I watched and saw the water in an entirely new light. In the past, I tried to catch fish and watched the water and if my approach/tackle/technique wasn’t working, I’d start to kick back and call it a day. I resigned myself to the fact that the fish just weren’t biting, and were in deep water somewhere. Mike taught me that the Fish are ALWAYS there and willing, you just have to find them. Water ANYWHERE, even at sewage outflows holds fish. The pics of you catching fish, even trout, in big cities near sewage lines, etc., will always be remembered. You just have to change up, adapt, persevere and you will start catching fish. In fact, I saw him do just that, changing flies and lines and hooking into largemouth bass, smallmouth bass, pike, muskie etc. As the Marines in Red, improvise, adapt, overcome, etc.
For me, this is a profound lesson. I now realize the fish are always there, always eating and living and catchable. They are faithful to their own purpose. As I reflect upon my friends and this incredible fishing trip, I am overwhelmed by their perserverance, friendship and how faithful they are to their purpose and the pursuit of friendship. Ed’s thank-you note that I found this morning to me summed it up—“Semper Fi” my brother, “Semper Fi”. Always faithfull, the fish, the friends. The red blood of my friendship, the red color of the Marine Corps Flag, the fish on the Redd. I am overwhelmed and thankful to the CREATOR above for this time. Thank You, and God Bless, and come on back Marines!!!
It is with profound sadness that I have said goodbye to my last salmon fishing visitor today. Eddy headed off back to Virginia about 0430, the last of the Marines. I put the Marine Corps Proud Red Flags away in a safe place and then put up my salmon rods for the winter. As I sit here and write and look out at the quarter moon over Lake Michigan, a flood of memories hits me from the journey of the last two weeks. I remember going out on the boat out front of the house and being just as amazed as Colonel Scott W. about the number of salmon jumping around us in 10 to 30 feet of water as we trolled. We didn’t catch anything that morning, but I have to say it was one of the most beautiful and enjoyable moments of fall salmon fishing for me. The wind laid down, the sun came up in it’s glorious fullness---and Scott and I enjoyed the glory of a sunrise on Lake Michigan---all the while listening to our comrades at the river mouth, and seeing them run up and down the beach fishing for the fish going up river.
The shooting was also enlightening. I can’t believe that I can now hit a bulls-eye on a target with a hand gun. I went from hitting the board the target was on with one shot, and the dirt with the other shots---to now hitting the money. Thanks for that Colonel W., I will go back to the range this week with the pistols you arranged for me to shoot and hit a few more centers for my teacher!!!
It was “nagnanimous” to come back to “Camp” by the way Dr. Todd, and have incredible meals waiting for us. I think if Todd decides to give up doctoring, he will give Emeril a run for his money. Did he give us a kick off and change of pace or what? I honestly didn’t know they cut steaks that thick. What was that---almost 3 inches I think. And it was incredibly enjoyable to eat the “maters” and peppers from his very own garden. The kids in town are still talking about the white convertible mustang and the trip to Jeffy’s football game. Thanks for doing that again Doctor! Thanks Todd for freshing up the party and putting up with a bunch of smelly old guys! I now know more about football thanks to Todd than any dumb dad who majored in guitar and girls in high school but never went out for sports.
The salmon cooperated for some of us---most notably Ed, who took back as much fresh and smoked salmon as he wanted. Eddy does like to catch the “bite” at the River Mouth doesn’t he? It’s fun to watch him go!!! Then, there’s Jeffy, who on his first trip to the river at the high gravel, fairly hooked a big king salmon in the mouth on his Grandfather’s Fly Rod and landed it on his first hour on the river. There were many very experienced fishermen with me who didn’t do that this year, so he’s pretty proud of himself. In fact, even those who didn’t catch salmon are pretty happy that happened to Jeffy. The other guys who visited me, Dr. Todd, Mike, Scott, Ron and Ed were a joy and a lot of fun to have around. I was a little anxious about the fireworks off the beach at ONE A.M. at first, but in retrospect realize it didn’t hurt or wake anybody up---and they were quite amazing fireworks.
We all knew that the salmon run was just beginning while they were here. There were scattered fish up on the gravel REDDS, but they were hard to catch, and not the usual number of egg-sucking rainbows present either. I got up early this morning before Church and hit the river, and yes, was dodging salmon around my legs. Sorry guys, you just missed the “mother lode” as Mike said, by a few days. That’s life, always a minute too short I guess. But, that’s one of the reasons I decided to move here---I can watch the fish come up, peak, and fade away and fish when I want to. You’ll just have to come back, and you are invited always, every year, forever if you want to, to help me enjoy and appreciate this incredible water wonderland.
For me, having caught more salmon than I can count, the pinnacle of this year’s fall fishing was Lake Fishing. I had the pleasure to have a “World-Class” Fisherman on my boat, Mike L. Mike helped me go from blue to red in terms of catching fish and “tasting blood”. I have fished with a lot of fishermen, from fishing guides in the Bahamas, Florida Keys to Alaska, but none of them was as knowledgeable and enjoyable to fish with as Mike. For the first time, I watched and saw the water in an entirely new light. In the past, I tried to catch fish and watched the water and if my approach/tackle/technique wasn’t working, I’d start to kick back and call it a day. I resigned myself to the fact that the fish just weren’t biting, and were in deep water somewhere. Mike taught me that the Fish are ALWAYS there and willing, you just have to find them. Water ANYWHERE, even at sewage outflows holds fish. The pics of you catching fish, even trout, in big cities near sewage lines, etc., will always be remembered. You just have to change up, adapt, persevere and you will start catching fish. In fact, I saw him do just that, changing flies and lines and hooking into largemouth bass, smallmouth bass, pike, muskie etc. As the Marines in Red, improvise, adapt, overcome, etc.
For me, this is a profound lesson. I now realize the fish are always there, always eating and living and catchable. They are faithful to their own purpose. As I reflect upon my friends and this incredible fishing trip, I am overwhelmed by their perserverance, friendship and how faithful they are to their purpose and the pursuit of friendship. Ed’s thank-you note that I found this morning to me summed it up—“Semper Fi” my brother, “Semper Fi”. Always faithfull, the fish, the friends. The red blood of my friendship, the red color of the Marine Corps Flag, the fish on the Redd. I am overwhelmed and thankful to the CREATOR above for this time. Thank You, and God Bless, and come on back Marines!!!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
The Smartest Dog That Ever Lived
I always new Abby, our boxer, was smart. She is certainly the smartest dog I have ever known. It started innocuously enough, little things like her greeting you at the door and walking a few feet at a time toward the doggy snacks, twisting and shaking her head and pointing at the pantry with her head. She certainly had the Pavlov’s Dog thing down regarding snacks. It wasn’t long until she associated certain individuals with being more generous about snacks than her own family. For example, Grandma, who usually brought her own doggy snacks in her pocket. Abby would see that red car pull up and greet Grandma and start nudging the purse of the pockets for her snack. Then came Julie, who also figured out where the doggy snacks were and helped to spoil Abby even more. What the heck, it’s ok, she’s the smartest dog that ever lived.
Well, now that Abby is getting old we have had to deal with some geriatric health problems including urinary incontinence. There were just too many accidents piling up on our carpeting on a daily basis. Out comes the bucket, carpet cleaner, towels, vacumn, etc. Thus, we started to confine her to the downstairs bathroom during the day. We put up the folding picnic table in front of the door and a kitchen chair buttressed up against it so she couldn’t push it out. Abby’s sad eyes about killed me when I put her in there, she looked at me with that look that says: “What, you kiddin’ me pops? I’m not a dog, don’t you remember? You always said that Dad. You always told the kids that you aren’t feeding the ‘dog’, you’re feeding Abby, one of the family. And what? You puttin’ me in the bathroom? Whaz up with that Dude?” Well, the first day with this system she persisted in banging up against the folding picnic table so that she could get just enough room between it and the wall and squeeze out. Come home, Abby sleeping on the sofa and more piddle on the floor. Sheesh.
Applied the TWO chair method, same result, she must have pushed against that table for hours, but she squeezed out. She had her bed in there and plenty of water, she could even take a shower if she wanted to for crying out loud, it wasn’t like being outside in a kennel. She could have piddled on the floor all she wanted in there. I only used the picnic table so that she could have a view of the Lake and have a little extra air rather than close the door completely. Anyway, I had to bite the bullet and close the pocket door to the bathroom, latch it, and go to work. I left with her barking, scratching and then came a strange grunting, chewing sound, but I didn’t think anything of it.
Came home, yep, Abby on the sofa, looking at me with those eyes that seemed to say” “Hah, that’s all you got Pops?” She grabbed the stopper block on the door with her teeth and pulled it up at an angle so the wheels in the track popped out above and then banged on the door long enough to release the latch. OK, now I’m not stupid, I know enough to know when I’ve been defeated by superior basic animal intelligence. But I just couldn’t bring myself to put her in her crate because I know dogs really resist piddling in their bed and I didn’t want her in pain. Thus, I took her out to the garage.
The first day she chewed up some insulation I had just cut and placed the mess right in front of the door for me so that I would get a clear message that she was not very happy with me. Keep in mind this insulation was about 20 feet from the door, but she mangled it and dragged it in front of the door for me to see clearly. OK, time for a talk. I explained to her that being in the garage is a good thing, she has tons of room out here. Her bed is on top of two inch foam insulation and she has a heater. I showed her the drain in the floor for piddling in and her HUGE water bowl to drink from and gave her a doggy snack and she smiled at me.
Came home tonight to find Abby very content, I think she actually likes it out here in the garage. I let her out and played with her a bit and gave her a doggy snack in the house. I went back out to the garage to inspect the situation. The insulation was intact, untouched. I went over to the floor drain and there was the piddle, not pee anywhere else, just at the floor drain where I asked her to pee. Now you may think this was coincidence. However, I swear that dog understands English. Come on, this garage is like 30 by 30 feet big, she could have peed in a hundred places, but no, right at the drain where I told her to pee.
Abby is a gentle dog and travels for hours in a car without complaint, she likes her butt rubbed, she likes to lay at your feet. She’ll bark at strangers and protect you. She can tell when it’s time to go to the vet verses the river for fishing. She can tell days in advance when a trip is coming up, watching the luggage come out. It’s almost as if she knows if she’s going or not. In short, Abby is my beloved pet. I’ve determined that rather than “put her down” as I have been advised given her incontinence, Cushing’s Disease, Liver Disease, advanced Osteoarthritis, etc.---I will instead utilize the best that modern doggy medicine can offer and she and I will advance into the sunset for awhile together.
Many have said she’s outlived her usefulness, well, so have I in many ways already. I’ve procreated, I did research, wrote some songs, worked at my job helping people for many years. But the reality is I’m never going to be famous or change the world. If any of that will come it will do so thru my children. Reminds me of a Star Trek episode where the Enterprise goes into a time warp and ends up with an Air Force Pilot from the 1970’s. This is a difficult situation for the crew, because it would be very difficult, possible lethal to ship and crew to get him back. Thus, Spock does some research and finds out “all” he ever did was become a Pilot in the Air-Force and didn’t have any “major” accomplishments. Thus, they opted to just keep him and take him out of his life---until, another screen came up and they saw that his son became very influential in time-warp travel---and his son hadn’t been born yet. Thus, they returned him back to Earth at great peril, but succeeded and they preserved the continuum.
What measure of a man is time-warp travel? A number one song? What measure of dog is winning best of show? All is just a brief hiccup in the continuum of time. What is eternal? The love that dog Abby has given to me, her loyalty, the joy and funny moments she gave me. What will my children remember when I am gone? The big fish I caught? My job? Probably a bit, but most importantly they will remember how much I loved them, how I cared for them and cleaned up after them and helped their mother make HUGE sacrifices in her life for their own betterment. So go ahead Abby, piddle on the floor if you must, I won’t remember that. But, I’ll remember how you came and greeted me after a hard day, and always stayed with me, and loved me, my most wonderful, loyal loving friend, Abby.
Well, now that Abby is getting old we have had to deal with some geriatric health problems including urinary incontinence. There were just too many accidents piling up on our carpeting on a daily basis. Out comes the bucket, carpet cleaner, towels, vacumn, etc. Thus, we started to confine her to the downstairs bathroom during the day. We put up the folding picnic table in front of the door and a kitchen chair buttressed up against it so she couldn’t push it out. Abby’s sad eyes about killed me when I put her in there, she looked at me with that look that says: “What, you kiddin’ me pops? I’m not a dog, don’t you remember? You always said that Dad. You always told the kids that you aren’t feeding the ‘dog’, you’re feeding Abby, one of the family. And what? You puttin’ me in the bathroom? Whaz up with that Dude?” Well, the first day with this system she persisted in banging up against the folding picnic table so that she could get just enough room between it and the wall and squeeze out. Come home, Abby sleeping on the sofa and more piddle on the floor. Sheesh.
Applied the TWO chair method, same result, she must have pushed against that table for hours, but she squeezed out. She had her bed in there and plenty of water, she could even take a shower if she wanted to for crying out loud, it wasn’t like being outside in a kennel. She could have piddled on the floor all she wanted in there. I only used the picnic table so that she could have a view of the Lake and have a little extra air rather than close the door completely. Anyway, I had to bite the bullet and close the pocket door to the bathroom, latch it, and go to work. I left with her barking, scratching and then came a strange grunting, chewing sound, but I didn’t think anything of it.
Came home, yep, Abby on the sofa, looking at me with those eyes that seemed to say” “Hah, that’s all you got Pops?” She grabbed the stopper block on the door with her teeth and pulled it up at an angle so the wheels in the track popped out above and then banged on the door long enough to release the latch. OK, now I’m not stupid, I know enough to know when I’ve been defeated by superior basic animal intelligence. But I just couldn’t bring myself to put her in her crate because I know dogs really resist piddling in their bed and I didn’t want her in pain. Thus, I took her out to the garage.
The first day she chewed up some insulation I had just cut and placed the mess right in front of the door for me so that I would get a clear message that she was not very happy with me. Keep in mind this insulation was about 20 feet from the door, but she mangled it and dragged it in front of the door for me to see clearly. OK, time for a talk. I explained to her that being in the garage is a good thing, she has tons of room out here. Her bed is on top of two inch foam insulation and she has a heater. I showed her the drain in the floor for piddling in and her HUGE water bowl to drink from and gave her a doggy snack and she smiled at me.
Came home tonight to find Abby very content, I think she actually likes it out here in the garage. I let her out and played with her a bit and gave her a doggy snack in the house. I went back out to the garage to inspect the situation. The insulation was intact, untouched. I went over to the floor drain and there was the piddle, not pee anywhere else, just at the floor drain where I asked her to pee. Now you may think this was coincidence. However, I swear that dog understands English. Come on, this garage is like 30 by 30 feet big, she could have peed in a hundred places, but no, right at the drain where I told her to pee.
Abby is a gentle dog and travels for hours in a car without complaint, she likes her butt rubbed, she likes to lay at your feet. She’ll bark at strangers and protect you. She can tell when it’s time to go to the vet verses the river for fishing. She can tell days in advance when a trip is coming up, watching the luggage come out. It’s almost as if she knows if she’s going or not. In short, Abby is my beloved pet. I’ve determined that rather than “put her down” as I have been advised given her incontinence, Cushing’s Disease, Liver Disease, advanced Osteoarthritis, etc.---I will instead utilize the best that modern doggy medicine can offer and she and I will advance into the sunset for awhile together.
Many have said she’s outlived her usefulness, well, so have I in many ways already. I’ve procreated, I did research, wrote some songs, worked at my job helping people for many years. But the reality is I’m never going to be famous or change the world. If any of that will come it will do so thru my children. Reminds me of a Star Trek episode where the Enterprise goes into a time warp and ends up with an Air Force Pilot from the 1970’s. This is a difficult situation for the crew, because it would be very difficult, possible lethal to ship and crew to get him back. Thus, Spock does some research and finds out “all” he ever did was become a Pilot in the Air-Force and didn’t have any “major” accomplishments. Thus, they opted to just keep him and take him out of his life---until, another screen came up and they saw that his son became very influential in time-warp travel---and his son hadn’t been born yet. Thus, they returned him back to Earth at great peril, but succeeded and they preserved the continuum.
What measure of a man is time-warp travel? A number one song? What measure of dog is winning best of show? All is just a brief hiccup in the continuum of time. What is eternal? The love that dog Abby has given to me, her loyalty, the joy and funny moments she gave me. What will my children remember when I am gone? The big fish I caught? My job? Probably a bit, but most importantly they will remember how much I loved them, how I cared for them and cleaned up after them and helped their mother make HUGE sacrifices in her life for their own betterment. So go ahead Abby, piddle on the floor if you must, I won’t remember that. But, I’ll remember how you came and greeted me after a hard day, and always stayed with me, and loved me, my most wonderful, loyal loving friend, Abby.
The Lady Of The Lake
Wow, so much to say today----at random:
1. Bluegrass music on from the satellite dish on the front of the garage, pretty cool out here---sending e-mails over cyber space from the very tip of Lake Michigan in my little sleepy seaport village.
2. Made you salmon fishing guys coming up next week a little living room out here in the Big Garage with the sat tv, internet, easy chairs and couches. Monday the heating guys come to put in the geothermal heat pump in the main house and move the propane furnace out here for you. Gas company already brought the tank and laid the line to the garage and attached the regulator.
3. Mason finished up today---waterproofed the block . Incredible job, fortunately you'll see this very professional footer/block job. I asked him what it would take to lay the block for closing in my alcove on the east end of the Big Garage---I was planning to do it myself, mixing mortar in the wheelbarrow---doing it over several days, putting in the bolts, etc. I have done some incredible masonry work as my outdoor kitchen in Ohio will attest---but I'm tired tonight---so, he said "I dunno, maybe ____ bucks"---DONE I said---and now I have the block laid to close in the alcove too.
4. Wow, bluegrass music is great.
5. I pulled up from work today to see my contractor lighting up a smoke and saying it was "QUITTEN "time. It was then I saw the block laid in the alcove and half joists all laid for both additions and half the floors done and the block insulated with 2" foam on the inside. I inspected the work and thought Wow, this guy is good. It's a family affair--his son, daughter, himself and a hired guy---doing the work at an amazing rate of efficiency---man I'm glad I picked Rich. I guess you can't go wrong with a guy named Rich. I will keep trying to get him to quit smoking!!!
6. Tomorrow they'll finish the floors. Then they start the walls for the dining room/kitchen, working in from the south and once all framed up to the old house, they start tearing off roof. I think you salmon fishing guys will be heading out right about then, so I expect to have a fully functional kitchen still and the laundry room and bunk room available.
7. He's canteleving (sp?) out the floors a foot Eddy---so the downstairs will be bigger---and putting in a vaulted ceiling in Jeffy's room so he can have a loft and a skylight.
8. MOST IMPORTANTLY---I went up to gravel on the river today and the water is high, bringing water and oxygen to more gravel than ever on the river. I wanted to pick some blueberries too, but they are fading....However, I have never seen so many fishing spots below the campground---lots of beautiful gravel with water over it. No fish yet on the gravel---but that's good---because I am sure they are coming soon---we are
catching at the mouth and out trolling. Thus, the fish are staged and should be coming up anyday. Thus, make sure you are rigged for big salmon fishies on the stream, and have a lighter rod for catching the egg sucking rainbows below. We'll have some incredible hours on the gravel. I have smoked salmon ready for you guys to eat (from Jeffy's 16 pounder).
9. I have our brook trout fishing picked out finally. Going to take you into the Seney National Forest to a stream that has a beautiful big pool in the wood fairly accessible that my brook trout fishing nurse told me about today. She told me that she and her hubby fish this pool often and never see anybody else. She told me her husband didn't want to tell me about it---but she told him what a great guy I am etc. and thus they are sharing it with us. We'll fish that, the Fox and the Indian River in one day---they are all on my driving line.
10. Sarah is off to an incredible start in New York City. She has a voice teacher that the acting coach directed them too and had her first lesson. He has coached Brittney Spears, Christina Aguilara and worked with Mel Gibson on movies. Sorry, I barely know those people and can't spell their names, but I know they had a lot of success. He thinks Sarah really has it. Her acting coach is also bringing in some music people to hear her tomorrow and she has her first audition for a paid job already. We have an apartment (I think) in Manhatten that I'll be commuting too---won't that be a contrast??? From the beautiful Cedar Forest of the U.P. to the subway of New York!!!
Two agents already talked to Jomay about signing her. I can't believe how fast this is happening. Looks like I'll have to go to New York City a lot over the next couple years. Jomay really getting a lesson in the subways, finding an apartment, etc. What a woman. This is all so surreal---Sarah came out an artist---I often think of the day I was cutting wood in my shop and she was playing on the floor, I think she was four years old--she was taking the scrap pieces of wood and forming animal shapes with
them---I kept her patterns and glued them to a wood backing and still have them---she's just always had an eye for art. If she couldn't draw it or sing it, she dressed herself up with a variety of scarves and ornaments. What can I say about a kid who can dance, sing, draw, play viola, piano, guitar, harp and act beyond belief. You should see her acting clips---I wouldn't call it acting it, she's just being it.
11. OK, enough dribble. Eddy, get here--Sunday we have to pull the boat out and put in the new GPS/Fish finder and trolling rod mounts and get out on the Lake. Monday I think we'll hit the brook trout pool to scope it out---but it's not really a PLAN---I know you don't like to PLAN on a fishing trip---anyway I always wait for the Big Lake to tell me what to do. If she lays down for me, I caress her with my boat and troll for fish. If she whips up a fit I walk away from her and just observe her fitfull moment and let her vent. She really vented yesterday---waves came up so high they hit the transom of the boat on the shore docker---but she's tied down nicely and isn't going anywhere tonight it seems. Also, nice thing about being here---if she's mad and kicking up waves, I just go to the little water up the road and fish for pike. I let her dictate my life I guess, but let's face it, men are used to women being a great part of our lives.
Blessings, from the Naubinway Nook, no better place to be,
Jeff
Psssst...Have you heard the news? There's a new fashion blog, plus the latest fall trends and hair styles at StyleList.com.
1. Bluegrass music on from the satellite dish on the front of the garage, pretty cool out here---sending e-mails over cyber space from the very tip of Lake Michigan in my little sleepy seaport village.
2. Made you salmon fishing guys coming up next week a little living room out here in the Big Garage with the sat tv, internet, easy chairs and couches. Monday the heating guys come to put in the geothermal heat pump in the main house and move the propane furnace out here for you. Gas company already brought the tank and laid the line to the garage and attached the regulator.
3. Mason finished up today---waterproofed the block . Incredible job, fortunately you'll see this very professional footer/block job. I asked him what it would take to lay the block for closing in my alcove on the east end of the Big Garage---I was planning to do it myself, mixing mortar in the wheelbarrow---doing it over several days, putting in the bolts, etc. I have done some incredible masonry work as my outdoor kitchen in Ohio will attest---but I'm tired tonight---so, he said "I dunno, maybe ____ bucks"---DONE I said---and now I have the block laid to close in the alcove too.
4. Wow, bluegrass music is great.
5. I pulled up from work today to see my contractor lighting up a smoke and saying it was "QUITTEN "time. It was then I saw the block laid in the alcove and half joists all laid for both additions and half the floors done and the block insulated with 2" foam on the inside. I inspected the work and thought Wow, this guy is good. It's a family affair--his son, daughter, himself and a hired guy---doing the work at an amazing rate of efficiency---man I'm glad I picked Rich. I guess you can't go wrong with a guy named Rich. I will keep trying to get him to quit smoking!!!
6. Tomorrow they'll finish the floors. Then they start the walls for the dining room/kitchen, working in from the south and once all framed up to the old house, they start tearing off roof. I think you salmon fishing guys will be heading out right about then, so I expect to have a fully functional kitchen still and the laundry room and bunk room available.
7. He's canteleving (sp?) out the floors a foot Eddy---so the downstairs will be bigger---and putting in a vaulted ceiling in Jeffy's room so he can have a loft and a skylight.
8. MOST IMPORTANTLY---I went up to gravel on the river today and the water is high, bringing water and oxygen to more gravel than ever on the river. I wanted to pick some blueberries too, but they are fading....However, I have never seen so many fishing spots below the campground---lots of beautiful gravel with water over it. No fish yet on the gravel---but that's good---because I am sure they are coming soon---we are
catching at the mouth and out trolling. Thus, the fish are staged and should be coming up anyday. Thus, make sure you are rigged for big salmon fishies on the stream, and have a lighter rod for catching the egg sucking rainbows below. We'll have some incredible hours on the gravel. I have smoked salmon ready for you guys to eat (from Jeffy's 16 pounder).
9. I have our brook trout fishing picked out finally. Going to take you into the Seney National Forest to a stream that has a beautiful big pool in the wood fairly accessible that my brook trout fishing nurse told me about today. She told me that she and her hubby fish this pool often and never see anybody else. She told me her husband didn't want to tell me about it---but she told him what a great guy I am etc. and thus they are sharing it with us. We'll fish that, the Fox and the Indian River in one day---they are all on my driving line.
10. Sarah is off to an incredible start in New York City. She has a voice teacher that the acting coach directed them too and had her first lesson. He has coached Brittney Spears, Christina Aguilara and worked with Mel Gibson on movies. Sorry, I barely know those people and can't spell their names, but I know they had a lot of success. He thinks Sarah really has it. Her acting coach is also bringing in some music people to hear her tomorrow and she has her first audition for a paid job already. We have an apartment (I think) in Manhatten that I'll be commuting too---won't that be a contrast??? From the beautiful Cedar Forest of the U.P. to the subway of New York!!!
Two agents already talked to Jomay about signing her. I can't believe how fast this is happening. Looks like I'll have to go to New York City a lot over the next couple years. Jomay really getting a lesson in the subways, finding an apartment, etc. What a woman. This is all so surreal---Sarah came out an artist---I often think of the day I was cutting wood in my shop and she was playing on the floor, I think she was four years old--she was taking the scrap pieces of wood and forming animal shapes with
them---I kept her patterns and glued them to a wood backing and still have them---she's just always had an eye for art. If she couldn't draw it or sing it, she dressed herself up with a variety of scarves and ornaments. What can I say about a kid who can dance, sing, draw, play viola, piano, guitar, harp and act beyond belief. You should see her acting clips---I wouldn't call it acting it, she's just being it.
11. OK, enough dribble. Eddy, get here--Sunday we have to pull the boat out and put in the new GPS/Fish finder and trolling rod mounts and get out on the Lake. Monday I think we'll hit the brook trout pool to scope it out---but it's not really a PLAN---I know you don't like to PLAN on a fishing trip---anyway I always wait for the Big Lake to tell me what to do. If she lays down for me, I caress her with my boat and troll for fish. If she whips up a fit I walk away from her and just observe her fitfull moment and let her vent. She really vented yesterday---waves came up so high they hit the transom of the boat on the shore docker---but she's tied down nicely and isn't going anywhere tonight it seems. Also, nice thing about being here---if she's mad and kicking up waves, I just go to the little water up the road and fish for pike. I let her dictate my life I guess, but let's face it, men are used to women being a great part of our lives.
Blessings, from the Naubinway Nook, no better place to be,
Jeff
Psssst...Have you heard the news? There's a new fashion blog, plus the latest fall trends and hair styles at StyleList.com.
Moving College Students
Howdy,
Just finished unbelieveable few days--but now all is well with a crimson sky and the beautiful blue of Lake Michigan in the corner of my eye. Thursday got to Findlay and packed until 3 a.m. Got up Friday and then packed the U-Haul with Lorhel's stuff for her new apartment at college and did chores around the house and headed to Cincinatti. Got to Cinci about 6 p.m. with a U-Haul full of furniture, tables, mattresses, etc. and parked on an incline hill, with THREEEEEEE flights of stairs to Lorhel's room, TWOOOO flights to the kitchen, ONE to the entry and NOOOOOO friends to help us as promised. Not to mention it was STINKIN HOTTTT. So, I'm sitting there in the U-Haul dripping wet with sweat, looking at the full truck and notice that accross the street are 4 college boys on the porch drinkin Pepsi, seriously, not beer. Now, I'm lookin at the three flights of stairs to my left, and the 4 college boys to the right. Next, I look in my wallet and see I have FOUR twenty dollar bills, yep, Uh, Huh:"Hey Guys, you want to make a quick 20 bucks???" I didn't even finish the sentence and they were at the truck. Man, could I move like that when I was 20? Truck was unloaded in less than a half hour and all I did was point and say take this, take that, here, this one takes two. I was rather pleased with myself of course. Lorhel's apartment is very cool---old solid wood floors, split level, lots of character.Well, the night was just begining, trip to Wal Mart and back $184 poorer with toilet paper holders, toilet cleaners, trash cans, etc. The caulk in Lorhel's bath tub along the tub edge was disgusting---so, I dug it all out, dried it with a blow drier, and laid down beads of new caulk. Yes Ed, I put chlorine bleach mixture in first. Put up her bed, pictures on the wall, etc. Back to the hotel. Next morning back to shopping for Lorhel, then back to Findlay. Got back to Findlay around 4 p.m. just in time to meet the two guys from "E-Movers"---a service U-Haul has for local help. They loaded the freezer, leather couch, chairs, multiple boxes cabinets and tools and even removed and replaced doors as necessary to facilitate moving. Second best $164 I ever spent. They even moved the old couches up from the basement to replace the leather ones that are now here at the Nook. Still, up until 1 a.m. packing more small boxes and tools. All the while I'm thinking, how in the heck am I going to unload this stuff? The Marine I know in Naubinway will be working, where am I going to find a few good men on a work day? How will I unload this stuff????Sunday morn get underway about 1100---stop at Cabelas to get a new fish finder and trolling rig, then Lowes in West Branch for extruded foam for insulating the crawl space. Get back to the Nook about 2100 and Jeffy's already in bed. Up until 0300 unloading what I could, small boxes, etc. Dead beat tired.Monday morn I am awaked by voices walking around the house, two men, masons here to pour the concrete for the footers for the additions. I walk outside, how ya doin? Good, can't start yet though, boss ain't here, delayed. Oh, really? Say, would you mind helping me move a couple things? Yeah, short order made of leather couch, freezer, 4 drawer Oak File Cabinet---and they wouldn't even let me help---I'd try to grab something and they would say, no, let me get that, OH YEAH!!!! They wouldn't take a dime, so I gave them each 20 bucks under the guise of buying them lunch, probably the best 40 bucks I ever spent. Then, to the storage unit to unload some small stuff, drop off the U-Haul. Back to the Nook and into the moldy nasty crawl space under Jeffy's room. I haul out rotted timbers, old lead pipes and SIX 45 gallon contractor garbage babs of nasty old insulation. I cut away the insulation from the heating duct work, glue extruded 2 inch foam to the block walls and lay down a new vapor barrier and duct tape it to the extruded foam now glued to the walls. I put fiberglass insulation along the outer joists and voila, the crawl under Jeffy's room is clean, dry, heated and insulated.Then I haul all the waste back to the dump pile and right now I am so sore I can barely type. Good news is, they were able to dig the big rocks out away from the dining room addition area, dig out the soft dirt, and fill it all with pea gravel and then lay the forms for the foundation. Then, the cement truck came and they took a front end loader to the cement truck, filled the bucket, and made multiple trips to the forms. So, now, the forms are laid and they start the block tomorrow. Decided on a vaulted ceiling for Jeff's room with a skylight and will build him a loft for guests too---will be an awesome room. My contractor is going to cantelevier the floor out and add a foot all the way round his room, and the laundry room. Wow, haven't been this tired since I was a college student and stayed up all night with Ed, Phil, Kevin and the FRAT. The Geothermal heat pump is sitting in the small garage awaiting installation this week. The gas company brought a brand new tank out to the big garage today---and I have the sub-panel sitting there to install. Thus, it looks like my salmon fishing guests will be rather toasty out there. In addition, I have couches and easy chairs out there that were replaced by the Findlay furniture inside the Nook. You should have seen this place about noon. I had the gas company truck lifting the tank with the crane, the cement truck on the road pumping cement, the guy with the front end loader going back and forth---the contractor barking orders, all the grunts with shovels and block, the U-Haul being further unloaded and to boot---I managed to find time to go to Jeffy's school in Engadine to take him his football cleats he forgot---and to the post office. I was almost as multi-tasked and brilliant as Ed today, well, a close second at least.Fishing is awesome right now, they are catching COHOS like crazy at the mouth. Holding off on fishing though until Monday when Eddy gets here, then I'm fishing like mad!!!See you soon!Jeff
Just finished unbelieveable few days--but now all is well with a crimson sky and the beautiful blue of Lake Michigan in the corner of my eye. Thursday got to Findlay and packed until 3 a.m. Got up Friday and then packed the U-Haul with Lorhel's stuff for her new apartment at college and did chores around the house and headed to Cincinatti. Got to Cinci about 6 p.m. with a U-Haul full of furniture, tables, mattresses, etc. and parked on an incline hill, with THREEEEEEE flights of stairs to Lorhel's room, TWOOOO flights to the kitchen, ONE to the entry and NOOOOOO friends to help us as promised. Not to mention it was STINKIN HOTTTT. So, I'm sitting there in the U-Haul dripping wet with sweat, looking at the full truck and notice that accross the street are 4 college boys on the porch drinkin Pepsi, seriously, not beer. Now, I'm lookin at the three flights of stairs to my left, and the 4 college boys to the right. Next, I look in my wallet and see I have FOUR twenty dollar bills, yep, Uh, Huh:"Hey Guys, you want to make a quick 20 bucks???" I didn't even finish the sentence and they were at the truck. Man, could I move like that when I was 20? Truck was unloaded in less than a half hour and all I did was point and say take this, take that, here, this one takes two. I was rather pleased with myself of course. Lorhel's apartment is very cool---old solid wood floors, split level, lots of character.Well, the night was just begining, trip to Wal Mart and back $184 poorer with toilet paper holders, toilet cleaners, trash cans, etc. The caulk in Lorhel's bath tub along the tub edge was disgusting---so, I dug it all out, dried it with a blow drier, and laid down beads of new caulk. Yes Ed, I put chlorine bleach mixture in first. Put up her bed, pictures on the wall, etc. Back to the hotel. Next morning back to shopping for Lorhel, then back to Findlay. Got back to Findlay around 4 p.m. just in time to meet the two guys from "E-Movers"---a service U-Haul has for local help. They loaded the freezer, leather couch, chairs, multiple boxes cabinets and tools and even removed and replaced doors as necessary to facilitate moving. Second best $164 I ever spent. They even moved the old couches up from the basement to replace the leather ones that are now here at the Nook. Still, up until 1 a.m. packing more small boxes and tools. All the while I'm thinking, how in the heck am I going to unload this stuff? The Marine I know in Naubinway will be working, where am I going to find a few good men on a work day? How will I unload this stuff????Sunday morn get underway about 1100---stop at Cabelas to get a new fish finder and trolling rig, then Lowes in West Branch for extruded foam for insulating the crawl space. Get back to the Nook about 2100 and Jeffy's already in bed. Up until 0300 unloading what I could, small boxes, etc. Dead beat tired.Monday morn I am awaked by voices walking around the house, two men, masons here to pour the concrete for the footers for the additions. I walk outside, how ya doin? Good, can't start yet though, boss ain't here, delayed. Oh, really? Say, would you mind helping me move a couple things? Yeah, short order made of leather couch, freezer, 4 drawer Oak File Cabinet---and they wouldn't even let me help---I'd try to grab something and they would say, no, let me get that, OH YEAH!!!! They wouldn't take a dime, so I gave them each 20 bucks under the guise of buying them lunch, probably the best 40 bucks I ever spent. Then, to the storage unit to unload some small stuff, drop off the U-Haul. Back to the Nook and into the moldy nasty crawl space under Jeffy's room. I haul out rotted timbers, old lead pipes and SIX 45 gallon contractor garbage babs of nasty old insulation. I cut away the insulation from the heating duct work, glue extruded 2 inch foam to the block walls and lay down a new vapor barrier and duct tape it to the extruded foam now glued to the walls. I put fiberglass insulation along the outer joists and voila, the crawl under Jeffy's room is clean, dry, heated and insulated.Then I haul all the waste back to the dump pile and right now I am so sore I can barely type. Good news is, they were able to dig the big rocks out away from the dining room addition area, dig out the soft dirt, and fill it all with pea gravel and then lay the forms for the foundation. Then, the cement truck came and they took a front end loader to the cement truck, filled the bucket, and made multiple trips to the forms. So, now, the forms are laid and they start the block tomorrow. Decided on a vaulted ceiling for Jeff's room with a skylight and will build him a loft for guests too---will be an awesome room. My contractor is going to cantelevier the floor out and add a foot all the way round his room, and the laundry room. Wow, haven't been this tired since I was a college student and stayed up all night with Ed, Phil, Kevin and the FRAT. The Geothermal heat pump is sitting in the small garage awaiting installation this week. The gas company brought a brand new tank out to the big garage today---and I have the sub-panel sitting there to install. Thus, it looks like my salmon fishing guests will be rather toasty out there. In addition, I have couches and easy chairs out there that were replaced by the Findlay furniture inside the Nook. You should have seen this place about noon. I had the gas company truck lifting the tank with the crane, the cement truck on the road pumping cement, the guy with the front end loader going back and forth---the contractor barking orders, all the grunts with shovels and block, the U-Haul being further unloaded and to boot---I managed to find time to go to Jeffy's school in Engadine to take him his football cleats he forgot---and to the post office. I was almost as multi-tasked and brilliant as Ed today, well, a close second at least.Fishing is awesome right now, they are catching COHOS like crazy at the mouth. Holding off on fishing though until Monday when Eddy gets here, then I'm fishing like mad!!!See you soon!Jeff
Saturday, September 6, 2008
First Touchdown
In case you are on some remote Island in the South Pacific without electricity, you probably know this is FOOTBALL SEASON. Here in the U.P. the order of life is God, Family, Football and Fishing (Hunting.) We watched with
anxiety and trepidation as our son Jeff sauntered out onto the gridiron for the first time a few weeks ago to practice football with boys, coaches, he had never met. As is typical of Jeffy, he accommodated, he adapted, he made friends and found his way to his favorite position, Wide Reciever. He practiced hard and I bought him his new pair of wide receiver gloves. He caught a few passes in practice and scrimidges. He was noted to be particularly good at catching the short pass and breaking thru the hole to the end zone. He has, as the coaches say, “soft hands”. Thus, we breathed a sigh of relief and went into the daily grind of our new life here---work, pick up football players, make sure they have 14,000 calorie dinners waiting for them when they get home. Life goes on.
Finally, first game day game. All the parents were very anxious because we were going to play, for our FIRST game, the number one team that won the championship last year. Yikes, would my kid get hurt? How bad is the spread in the score going to be? These boys haven’t played together very long, they are a new young team. Tonight, the first play came. We got the ball first, the entire stadium in Cedarville, Michigan was silent---it was amazing, with hundreds of people there, you could hear the quarterbacks every word: #23, 47, hutt, hutt!” Then came the snap, with the 8 minutes of the quarter on the clock. I watched number 82 (my son Jeffy) break right and evade his defensive end and then pull left at a few yards past the line of scrimidge. Robert, our Q-B saw that he was open and punched his usually very accurate pass into Jeffy’s arms. Then, there was a sea of orange and black players chasing my son in green and gold. I thought for sure he was going down---but no, he evaded the first tackle, jumped up, ran back over the scrimidge line and then broke left 20 yards into the end zone---TOUCHDOWN JEFFY BOMBER!!!! His sister looked at the clock---7:46, she said, “wow, that only took 14 seconds”.
Yes the entire event took about 14 seconds. In 14 seconds my son, in a new town, with a new coach and friends, playing a new team, one the FIRST PLAY, in 14 seconds, scored the first touchdown. Do you feel the BEAM??? Are you catching a few rays of the BEAMING FATHER right now???? Can you believe this, my son, new to the town, the team, the school, etc., going out for his FIRST game pass and catching it and getting the first points on the board!!!! WOOWWWOWWWWW!!!!!
Well, it went on and on, he caught more passes, he was awesome. AND, the final score, Engadine 30, Rudyard ZERO!!!! Yes, our defense was awesome too. I never played football, I never did half the things that my beautiful daughters and incredible son have done. Frankly, I’m humbled by them. Patients and friends and family have told me many times that I am smart, talented, a great person. I tell you that is blessing to hear such things---but the fact is, I don’t hold a candle up to my children. They were blessed with the nominal good brains I have, but mostly their mothers. Jeffy also got his grandfather’s athletic prowess---certainly not mine. I can get the kayak in the water---but I have never achieved a touchdown. Tonight my son achieved THE FIRST TOUCH DOWN on the field and with his new friends, the crowd, his family, etc. watching!!! He was very happy. However, he doesn’t know that his greatest touchdown is right here in his father’s heart tonight. He has no idea that with millions of people in the world, and billions of stars in the universe, nothing shines brighter than me right now. I am lit up, glowing in the amazing feats of my children, thier
many great and FIRST TOUCHDOWNS!!!!
anxiety and trepidation as our son Jeff sauntered out onto the gridiron for the first time a few weeks ago to practice football with boys, coaches, he had never met. As is typical of Jeffy, he accommodated, he adapted, he made friends and found his way to his favorite position, Wide Reciever. He practiced hard and I bought him his new pair of wide receiver gloves. He caught a few passes in practice and scrimidges. He was noted to be particularly good at catching the short pass and breaking thru the hole to the end zone. He has, as the coaches say, “soft hands”. Thus, we breathed a sigh of relief and went into the daily grind of our new life here---work, pick up football players, make sure they have 14,000 calorie dinners waiting for them when they get home. Life goes on.
Finally, first game day game. All the parents were very anxious because we were going to play, for our FIRST game, the number one team that won the championship last year. Yikes, would my kid get hurt? How bad is the spread in the score going to be? These boys haven’t played together very long, they are a new young team. Tonight, the first play came. We got the ball first, the entire stadium in Cedarville, Michigan was silent---it was amazing, with hundreds of people there, you could hear the quarterbacks every word: #23, 47, hutt, hutt!” Then came the snap, with the 8 minutes of the quarter on the clock. I watched number 82 (my son Jeffy) break right and evade his defensive end and then pull left at a few yards past the line of scrimidge. Robert, our Q-B saw that he was open and punched his usually very accurate pass into Jeffy’s arms. Then, there was a sea of orange and black players chasing my son in green and gold. I thought for sure he was going down---but no, he evaded the first tackle, jumped up, ran back over the scrimidge line and then broke left 20 yards into the end zone---TOUCHDOWN JEFFY BOMBER!!!! His sister looked at the clock---7:46, she said, “wow, that only took 14 seconds”.
Yes the entire event took about 14 seconds. In 14 seconds my son, in a new town, with a new coach and friends, playing a new team, one the FIRST PLAY, in 14 seconds, scored the first touchdown. Do you feel the BEAM??? Are you catching a few rays of the BEAMING FATHER right now???? Can you believe this, my son, new to the town, the team, the school, etc., going out for his FIRST game pass and catching it and getting the first points on the board!!!! WOOWWWOWWWWW!!!!!
Well, it went on and on, he caught more passes, he was awesome. AND, the final score, Engadine 30, Rudyard ZERO!!!! Yes, our defense was awesome too. I never played football, I never did half the things that my beautiful daughters and incredible son have done. Frankly, I’m humbled by them. Patients and friends and family have told me many times that I am smart, talented, a great person. I tell you that is blessing to hear such things---but the fact is, I don’t hold a candle up to my children. They were blessed with the nominal good brains I have, but mostly their mothers. Jeffy also got his grandfather’s athletic prowess---certainly not mine. I can get the kayak in the water---but I have never achieved a touchdown. Tonight my son achieved THE FIRST TOUCH DOWN on the field and with his new friends, the crowd, his family, etc. watching!!! He was very happy. However, he doesn’t know that his greatest touchdown is right here in his father’s heart tonight. He has no idea that with millions of people in the world, and billions of stars in the universe, nothing shines brighter than me right now. I am lit up, glowing in the amazing feats of my children, thier
many great and FIRST TOUCHDOWNS!!!!
Monday, September 1, 2008
First Salmon
It was an afterthought really, we hadn’t even intended to take the boat out, yet go fishing. it had been a lazy day, Jeffy just playing x-box and me lumbering around the complex. We did play some guitar together---working on new chords and church music as Jeffy is going to start playing guitar for the praise team at church soon. In any case, the Great Lake laid down its wind and it was warm and sunny and I asked Jeffy if he wanted to take a quick boat ride. “Sure”, he said in his usual verbose, teenage boy fashion (actually, sometimes he’ll talk like crazy but when he’s x-boxing it’s one word answers). “We gonna fish Dad?” Oh, “I don’t know I said”, I was just planning on a quick ride, but “ok, we can take the rods”. Thus it was the U.S.S. Minnow was outfitted for the quick boat ride, with fishing gear just in case.
We opened her up and Jeffy took control and we zipped around the Naubinway Light and headed out towards Lansing Shoals and then zipped back towards the river mouth. We saw an unusual sight in front of the river, not one but TWO boats trolling for fish. Now, understand, seeing ANY boat at all in MY Bay is unusual, yet to have two at once. We kind of figured then something must be happening in the fishing department. So, he throttled down and out came the rods. I rigged up two Cabela’s gold fishing rods with trolling spoons. One was on a lead core line and the other just spider wire. We were in depths of 12 to 30 feet of water and really didn’t need the dipsy divers. I also put two smaller rods out, one with a hot in tot and one with a Swedish pimple. This way we could pick up a variety of fish, salmon or trout with the spoons and bass or pike with the others. The trolling began with about 2 hours of daylight left with the sun in the western sky, just gorgeous.
I called my friend Dan on the cell phone, but he wasn’t available. I wanted to gloat a bit about being out on the water, it didn’t matter that we hadn’t caught anything. I checked the lines and re-adjusted depths and went back to the cell phone as Jeffer steered a southwest course at 2.6 miles per hour with the very quiet 4 stroke Mercury. I told him to choose the direction, go where it feels best I told him, so he did. Back to the cell phone, I’ll try to reach Ed. Shoot, nobody home, voice mail. So I started to leave a voice mail when the rod next to Jeffer on the starboard side started to SCREAM and jerk. I grabbed the rod and set the hook and Jeffer took over. I had forgotton about the cell phone as in my haste I just threw it into the tray near the throttle. Now, to say I was excited was an understatement as we both watched a very silver fish of at least 15 pounds jump into the air about 100 feet from the boat as Jeffy did all he could to hang on for dear life. I’m screaming at him to keep the rod tip up, keep pressure on and a tight line, but don’t horse him. Ok, that’s fine, let her run when she wants and take out line. I’m doing all this while I am trying to reel in the other 3 lines and lines and lures are getting tangled and there’s a birds nest of line all over the boat and Jeffy isn’t making much headway on the fish. So, I achieved a reasonable amount of order and grabbed the rod and showed him how to pull back and crank down. Always the quick learned and bright boy he is, he figured that out quickly and soon had the fish near the boat after SIX very long, line screaming runs and multiple jumps.
I was so incredibly excited because nobody ever caught a salmon on this boat, a legacy inherited from one of my all time fishing buddies, my father-in-law Lyle. In addition, the new Cabela’s gold reels and trolling rods had never caught fish. Finally, I was with my son, fishing out in front of my house, watching him catch the biggest fish of his life. In addition, this was all entirely a BONUS, we hadn’t even planned to go fishing! He brought the fish near the boat but it took out some more line and I couldn’t net it. One more attempt and soon Jeff’s 31 inch Lake Michigan Salmon was in the boat. Lots of high fives and back slaps later, she was in the live well, completely filling it with head and tail pressing against both ends of it.
Back at the ranch it was a Chinese fire drill. We didn’t have the fish cleaning table out, no lights or water to it, no ice to ice the fish down, etc. Consequently there was a flurry of activity and out came the table, halogen lights, hose, power, electric fillet knives and before you knew it there were beautiful pink, thick, salmon fillets in the refrigerator. I didn’t think much of it when the phone rang and I heard Jeffy talking. “How did you know I caught a fish?” He asked the caller. “Oh, WOW, really?” “Who is that Jeff?” I asked. “It’s Uncle Ed, he said that he checked his voice mail and heard the entire audio of the catch, you had left the cell phone on!!!!” Eddy heard the whole thing, pulling in lines, hearing the rods screaming and the fish netted. He thought at first we were staging it, making it up until he heard the lines screaming. He said that would be pretty hard to recreate that. Oh yes, indeed.
Anyway, I am always overwhelmed, humbled and thankful for the miracles of life that occur in between the aches, pains, tragedies and turmoil of it. This, was total serendipity. We weren’t even going to go, was it coincidence that the fish hit while I was on the cell with Eddy? Was it rather fate that such conditions and variables would merge together into a few glorious moments with my son, both my Dad’s watching from above, and Uncle Ed hearing it all a thousand miles away? Yes, it was meant to be. My son was rather excited and proud and thankful as any thirteen-year old boy could be. However, I think I was even more excited than he, it was like my First Salmon. When you experience such an event with your own son, it’s even better than when you caught your big fish with your Dad. Spending time with my son is always an adventure, you never know what will happen. So much of it is a first, every day a “First Salmon.”
We opened her up and Jeffy took control and we zipped around the Naubinway Light and headed out towards Lansing Shoals and then zipped back towards the river mouth. We saw an unusual sight in front of the river, not one but TWO boats trolling for fish. Now, understand, seeing ANY boat at all in MY Bay is unusual, yet to have two at once. We kind of figured then something must be happening in the fishing department. So, he throttled down and out came the rods. I rigged up two Cabela’s gold fishing rods with trolling spoons. One was on a lead core line and the other just spider wire. We were in depths of 12 to 30 feet of water and really didn’t need the dipsy divers. I also put two smaller rods out, one with a hot in tot and one with a Swedish pimple. This way we could pick up a variety of fish, salmon or trout with the spoons and bass or pike with the others. The trolling began with about 2 hours of daylight left with the sun in the western sky, just gorgeous.
I called my friend Dan on the cell phone, but he wasn’t available. I wanted to gloat a bit about being out on the water, it didn’t matter that we hadn’t caught anything. I checked the lines and re-adjusted depths and went back to the cell phone as Jeffer steered a southwest course at 2.6 miles per hour with the very quiet 4 stroke Mercury. I told him to choose the direction, go where it feels best I told him, so he did. Back to the cell phone, I’ll try to reach Ed. Shoot, nobody home, voice mail. So I started to leave a voice mail when the rod next to Jeffer on the starboard side started to SCREAM and jerk. I grabbed the rod and set the hook and Jeffer took over. I had forgotton about the cell phone as in my haste I just threw it into the tray near the throttle. Now, to say I was excited was an understatement as we both watched a very silver fish of at least 15 pounds jump into the air about 100 feet from the boat as Jeffy did all he could to hang on for dear life. I’m screaming at him to keep the rod tip up, keep pressure on and a tight line, but don’t horse him. Ok, that’s fine, let her run when she wants and take out line. I’m doing all this while I am trying to reel in the other 3 lines and lines and lures are getting tangled and there’s a birds nest of line all over the boat and Jeffy isn’t making much headway on the fish. So, I achieved a reasonable amount of order and grabbed the rod and showed him how to pull back and crank down. Always the quick learned and bright boy he is, he figured that out quickly and soon had the fish near the boat after SIX very long, line screaming runs and multiple jumps.
I was so incredibly excited because nobody ever caught a salmon on this boat, a legacy inherited from one of my all time fishing buddies, my father-in-law Lyle. In addition, the new Cabela’s gold reels and trolling rods had never caught fish. Finally, I was with my son, fishing out in front of my house, watching him catch the biggest fish of his life. In addition, this was all entirely a BONUS, we hadn’t even planned to go fishing! He brought the fish near the boat but it took out some more line and I couldn’t net it. One more attempt and soon Jeff’s 31 inch Lake Michigan Salmon was in the boat. Lots of high fives and back slaps later, she was in the live well, completely filling it with head and tail pressing against both ends of it.
Back at the ranch it was a Chinese fire drill. We didn’t have the fish cleaning table out, no lights or water to it, no ice to ice the fish down, etc. Consequently there was a flurry of activity and out came the table, halogen lights, hose, power, electric fillet knives and before you knew it there were beautiful pink, thick, salmon fillets in the refrigerator. I didn’t think much of it when the phone rang and I heard Jeffy talking. “How did you know I caught a fish?” He asked the caller. “Oh, WOW, really?” “Who is that Jeff?” I asked. “It’s Uncle Ed, he said that he checked his voice mail and heard the entire audio of the catch, you had left the cell phone on!!!!” Eddy heard the whole thing, pulling in lines, hearing the rods screaming and the fish netted. He thought at first we were staging it, making it up until he heard the lines screaming. He said that would be pretty hard to recreate that. Oh yes, indeed.
Anyway, I am always overwhelmed, humbled and thankful for the miracles of life that occur in between the aches, pains, tragedies and turmoil of it. This, was total serendipity. We weren’t even going to go, was it coincidence that the fish hit while I was on the cell with Eddy? Was it rather fate that such conditions and variables would merge together into a few glorious moments with my son, both my Dad’s watching from above, and Uncle Ed hearing it all a thousand miles away? Yes, it was meant to be. My son was rather excited and proud and thankful as any thirteen-year old boy could be. However, I think I was even more excited than he, it was like my First Salmon. When you experience such an event with your own son, it’s even better than when you caught your big fish with your Dad. Spending time with my son is always an adventure, you never know what will happen. So much of it is a first, every day a “First Salmon.”
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Perfecting BIGOS
I know you have worked for years at something and never felt satisfied with it. Perhaps you are an artist and continually try to create your best watercolor. You need the right paper, saturation, colors, light, the variables are infinite. Perhaps you are like my friend Mike, a world-class fisherman who continually finds a way to be better at it. Or, perhaps you are like my daughter, Lorhel, who always rises to a new and greater level at Viola. Even right now, she’s awesome, if she stopped now, she would be a great player, close to mastery. However, it’s our human nature to strive and achieve mastery. My friend Ed, is a master with so many tools and constructing that I am continually humbled by his skills. My wife, is so good at keeping the faith I am continually humbled by her diligence. Me, well, in my “old age” my goals are changing. I’m not trying to write the number one song anymore. I’m just normally trying to get a line in the water and get thru my work list and take care of my family. However, there is one goal that continually nags me, that is, perfecting BIGOS.
Even many Polish people don’t know what BIGOS is. BIGOS, pronounced BEE-GOOSE, is Polish Hunter’s Stew. A few years ago my father, Eddy and I were supposed to go on the September Salmon Fishing Trip together. However, Dad was hospitalized and then released just before the trip. He was too weak to go. I can still see him sitting there, on the couch, in his white robe, lamenting that he couldn’t go. You could tell he wanted to go soooo badly, but his body wouldn’t get him to the river anymore. I didn’t want to go, with him so sick, but he insisted that I go. Thus, Ed and I dedicated that entire trip in his honor. Despite his illness, he managed to make his last batch of BIGOS. He sent it up with us in two containers. Now Ed, being Irish, hadn’t had all the exposure to Polish Food that all men should have. Anyway, I heated up Dad’s BIGOS while Ed looked on with some trepidation. It only took one bite, and then the “Oh man this is good” comments started. The comments went on and on until not even a milliliter of BIGOS remained. It was one of the most awesome dinners of our lives, we couldn’t get enough of it. Although it was bitter sweet, it helped us have Dad there with us, eating his Polish Hunter’s Stew.
BIGOS has saurkraut, onions, imported mushrooms and a variety of meats in it. The flavors meld together in a symphonic choir performance of mastery. It speaks of cold nights on the farm in Poland, when my ancestors only had some cabbage, some onions, and a few scraps of meat to eat after a 16 hour day tilling the land. Over centuries, however, it developed into a dish fit for royalty. It is earthy, pungent, fermented, rib sticking food. It may seem simple, but just try to prepare a dish developed over hundreds of years from the mindset of a fly-fishing third generation Polack who just had the pleasure of eating it. I never had to MAKE it. Well, Dad passed on and the next fishing trip came and we tried to re-create the BIGOS. In went the kraut, polish sausage, onions, mushrooms and out came a pretty bad sour mess. “This is pretty bad” Eddy said, this is not like your Dad’s BIGOS. “Yeah it is”, I said, “it’s got all the stuff in it”, I recanted. “Well, it may have all the stuff in it but this isn’t your Dad’s BIGOS. There were a few more attempts at it on fishing trips, all falling short until Eddy found a recipe on-line and we talked to some more Polacks about how to do it. It turns out that you have to drain the saurkraut and then brown the kraut in butter to give it that edgy, smoky, buttery twist that really makes the BIGOS. So, over the years, I have strived to fry the kraut to the right level of browness, find the right meats and mushrooms and barley and then bake it in a roasting pan in the oven like Dad did. Tonight, I made yet another batch of BIGOS, taking time to get the imported mushrooms, brown the kraut properly, add three types of meat and VIOLA, out came my best batch of BIGOS ever. It was good, I had a bowl. I thought about a second bowl, and looked out the window and said to myself, “nah, that was good, but it wasn’t nearly AS good. Really, it wasn’t, there’s still something missing. The mushrooms weren’t the right kind, the sausage wasn’t made by Kowalski’s (a true Polish Sausage Maker), the blend wasn’t right. If I could have anything at all I wanted, if I found the Genie’s lamp, if God Himself gave me any wish at all….I can tell you it wouldn’t be money. It wouldn’t be fame, it would be one more day with my DAD. It would be one more day fishing with him and coming back to camp, and showing me once and for all how to make the BIGOS right.
I am very blessed to be the son of a master fisherman, a father beyond comparison. He cooked for me, changed my diapers at a time when men just didn’t do that. He cheered me on at little league games and introduced me to the awesome majesty of Northern Michigan and stream fishing. He delighted me in tasting a dish that took me back generations in time, to my Polish roots. He took me places I can never go again, because he is gone. Neverthless, he left me with a great legacy, to continually strive for the best. I know I can never be half the man, but it’s good to taste a little bit of that tonight, ever-knowing it’s only a second best.
Even many Polish people don’t know what BIGOS is. BIGOS, pronounced BEE-GOOSE, is Polish Hunter’s Stew. A few years ago my father, Eddy and I were supposed to go on the September Salmon Fishing Trip together. However, Dad was hospitalized and then released just before the trip. He was too weak to go. I can still see him sitting there, on the couch, in his white robe, lamenting that he couldn’t go. You could tell he wanted to go soooo badly, but his body wouldn’t get him to the river anymore. I didn’t want to go, with him so sick, but he insisted that I go. Thus, Ed and I dedicated that entire trip in his honor. Despite his illness, he managed to make his last batch of BIGOS. He sent it up with us in two containers. Now Ed, being Irish, hadn’t had all the exposure to Polish Food that all men should have. Anyway, I heated up Dad’s BIGOS while Ed looked on with some trepidation. It only took one bite, and then the “Oh man this is good” comments started. The comments went on and on until not even a milliliter of BIGOS remained. It was one of the most awesome dinners of our lives, we couldn’t get enough of it. Although it was bitter sweet, it helped us have Dad there with us, eating his Polish Hunter’s Stew.
BIGOS has saurkraut, onions, imported mushrooms and a variety of meats in it. The flavors meld together in a symphonic choir performance of mastery. It speaks of cold nights on the farm in Poland, when my ancestors only had some cabbage, some onions, and a few scraps of meat to eat after a 16 hour day tilling the land. Over centuries, however, it developed into a dish fit for royalty. It is earthy, pungent, fermented, rib sticking food. It may seem simple, but just try to prepare a dish developed over hundreds of years from the mindset of a fly-fishing third generation Polack who just had the pleasure of eating it. I never had to MAKE it. Well, Dad passed on and the next fishing trip came and we tried to re-create the BIGOS. In went the kraut, polish sausage, onions, mushrooms and out came a pretty bad sour mess. “This is pretty bad” Eddy said, this is not like your Dad’s BIGOS. “Yeah it is”, I said, “it’s got all the stuff in it”, I recanted. “Well, it may have all the stuff in it but this isn’t your Dad’s BIGOS. There were a few more attempts at it on fishing trips, all falling short until Eddy found a recipe on-line and we talked to some more Polacks about how to do it. It turns out that you have to drain the saurkraut and then brown the kraut in butter to give it that edgy, smoky, buttery twist that really makes the BIGOS. So, over the years, I have strived to fry the kraut to the right level of browness, find the right meats and mushrooms and barley and then bake it in a roasting pan in the oven like Dad did. Tonight, I made yet another batch of BIGOS, taking time to get the imported mushrooms, brown the kraut properly, add three types of meat and VIOLA, out came my best batch of BIGOS ever. It was good, I had a bowl. I thought about a second bowl, and looked out the window and said to myself, “nah, that was good, but it wasn’t nearly AS good. Really, it wasn’t, there’s still something missing. The mushrooms weren’t the right kind, the sausage wasn’t made by Kowalski’s (a true Polish Sausage Maker), the blend wasn’t right. If I could have anything at all I wanted, if I found the Genie’s lamp, if God Himself gave me any wish at all….I can tell you it wouldn’t be money. It wouldn’t be fame, it would be one more day with my DAD. It would be one more day fishing with him and coming back to camp, and showing me once and for all how to make the BIGOS right.
I am very blessed to be the son of a master fisherman, a father beyond comparison. He cooked for me, changed my diapers at a time when men just didn’t do that. He cheered me on at little league games and introduced me to the awesome majesty of Northern Michigan and stream fishing. He delighted me in tasting a dish that took me back generations in time, to my Polish roots. He took me places I can never go again, because he is gone. Neverthless, he left me with a great legacy, to continually strive for the best. I know I can never be half the man, but it’s good to taste a little bit of that tonight, ever-knowing it’s only a second best.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Life and Death.
I see now that for me, moving here or not was a matter of life and death. Today, I had to say goodbye to a patient who died of heart failure. Unfortunately, I barely new her. I only met her a few days ago when she was very sick, in the end stages, the last breaths of her life. In Findlay, I was experiencing the lasts breath of my life in many ways, at least my career life. I was tired, I was too busy, I was ready to go home. I was very much like this dying patient, as she was ready to go “home”. She was tired, she had given it her all, but had nothing left to give. There was no reserve. We tried all the usual things, and were as aggressive as we should be. But alas, her heart was too weak and despite the best of modern medicine, we couldn’t resurrect her heart.
I see the parallel of her life and mine right now. I came to the emergency room of Northern Michigan, in the final breaths of my life if you will. I was getting fat, and sad and lazy, and needed a doctor. I am no longer “fat”, and back into clothes I haven’t worn in years. My spiritual “doctor” is a new Church and friends, and the Great Lake in front of my door, the rivers, the streams, the sun coming up over the cedar forest on my way to work. It is the patients who see me in the local coffee shop, restaurant and gas station and give me a pat on the back and say “how you doin’ Doc?” Each day I wake I cannot wait to look out the window and see what the Lake is doing. Is it calm? Are the great white caps putting on a show? Is it warm? Cool? Are there deer drinking from the stream next to my house? I love the first cup of coffee in the morning again. Instead of an essential medicine to get me out the door----the coffee is just an adjunct, a way to get me going to a place I want to be. I love getting to my job, and maybe making a bit of difference again.
Unlike my patient who passed on today, I at least have a few more hours. You know, like my brother Ed told me the other day, “it’s a BONUS”, he said, and I paraphrase. What he meant is that he said each day and moment is a bonus now. Think of how many of our friends have passed on in thier prime. Many of them heroes for our nation, many from disease, all too many before the age of 50. Thus, I realize I have been given a great gift. I am really “living the dream” as my friends said. At first, I thought they meant that because I am so near to many lakes and trout streams. However, now I know what it really means. I am where I want to be. Hah, I’ve NEVER been able to say that, I AM WHERE I WANT TO BE. Sure, I could use a lot more money. I could be the perfect father and husband and have perfect children. BUT, that’s not going to happen. Certainly, I have the perfect wife, but beyond that on this Earth, the only perfect thing is where I wake up in the morning. When I look out I see the great expanse of one of the World’s Greatest and Biggest Fresh Water Lakes. This is my front door. The breeze, my deodarant, the dew, my bath, where the sky and the water meet, my psychiatrist. I am, the luckiest man on Earth.
I see the parallel of her life and mine right now. I came to the emergency room of Northern Michigan, in the final breaths of my life if you will. I was getting fat, and sad and lazy, and needed a doctor. I am no longer “fat”, and back into clothes I haven’t worn in years. My spiritual “doctor” is a new Church and friends, and the Great Lake in front of my door, the rivers, the streams, the sun coming up over the cedar forest on my way to work. It is the patients who see me in the local coffee shop, restaurant and gas station and give me a pat on the back and say “how you doin’ Doc?” Each day I wake I cannot wait to look out the window and see what the Lake is doing. Is it calm? Are the great white caps putting on a show? Is it warm? Cool? Are there deer drinking from the stream next to my house? I love the first cup of coffee in the morning again. Instead of an essential medicine to get me out the door----the coffee is just an adjunct, a way to get me going to a place I want to be. I love getting to my job, and maybe making a bit of difference again.
Unlike my patient who passed on today, I at least have a few more hours. You know, like my brother Ed told me the other day, “it’s a BONUS”, he said, and I paraphrase. What he meant is that he said each day and moment is a bonus now. Think of how many of our friends have passed on in thier prime. Many of them heroes for our nation, many from disease, all too many before the age of 50. Thus, I realize I have been given a great gift. I am really “living the dream” as my friends said. At first, I thought they meant that because I am so near to many lakes and trout streams. However, now I know what it really means. I am where I want to be. Hah, I’ve NEVER been able to say that, I AM WHERE I WANT TO BE. Sure, I could use a lot more money. I could be the perfect father and husband and have perfect children. BUT, that’s not going to happen. Certainly, I have the perfect wife, but beyond that on this Earth, the only perfect thing is where I wake up in the morning. When I look out I see the great expanse of one of the World’s Greatest and Biggest Fresh Water Lakes. This is my front door. The breeze, my deodarant, the dew, my bath, where the sky and the water meet, my psychiatrist. I am, the luckiest man on Earth.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Is “Freaky” the WORD?
One of the finest human beings I ever met just sent me an e-mail about meeting somebody who knows me. Now, the “freaky” thing is, this friend moved to a state very far away from Michigan and Ohio not much sooner than I moved to Northern Michigan. Maybe you haven’t realized it, but I am rather remotely far from anywhere you have ever been. However, despite that, my friend met his son’s girlfriend’s grandmother who knows me from HERE!!!. I should say this state is as far away from Michigan as Oklahoma, maybe more, but I don’t have a map in front of me. The point is, we are all connected when we love, respect, know and share our love of God with one another. I am feeling so overwhelmed with “irony” about this right now, I am speechless. Anyway, let’s go deeper….
I recently had the privilege and honor of playing music together with my family for a dear friend’s wedding. I can’t tell you what a joy it was to be playing guitar along with Sarah playing Harp, Lorhel playing Viola, and Jomay playing piano. This wasn’t easy music, this was classical stuff, and it carried beautifully on the wind. The gathering was mesmerized I am told at the reception, I know I was, it was perhaps my best musical moment of my life. One school teacher in her 60’s said it was the finest wedding music she has ever heard. I wasn’t at all surprised, I think it was, really. I thought, later, that 100 years ago, families gathered after the work day, the harvest, etc. and read the Bible together, or a book, or brought out the instruments and played together. Before internet and t.v., this was how we connected, this is how we spent our few leisurely moments together. We enjoyed one another, depended, needed, loved and respected one another. Today, a family that stays together like this, unfortunately, is a little “freaky”.
The bride that we played for is like a daughter to us, she has been on multiple vacations with us, house sat for us, and has been our children’s baby-sitter for a decade. Unfortunately, the bride’s mother could not be with us, as cancer took her life this year after a very long battle. Nevertheless, Karla was with us, her spirit was everywhere. It was apparent from the first moment as the pastor told a story about her and the Bride choosing a wedding dress together earlier in the year. Then, the unity candle wouldn’t lite---bad wick, the matches couldn’t get it. However, they were able to use the candle from the alter that they lit for Karla that burned brightly, to finally get it going. They were struck by the fact that Karla again saved the day, and realized that she was there with them, That is not the end of the story….
After the recessional, as folks slowly filtered out the front door, my son and I went into the hallway toward the back door to pick up the instrument cases so we could pack up. As we stood in the hallway, the very heavy steel and glass door back entrance opened up spontaneously. There was a rush of wind past us as the air from the Church found it’s way to the outside world. After about 30 seconds, the door then closed before our eyes, on it’s own. We both stood there speechless, until Jeffy said: “that was Karla.” Now, I am a scientist and would definitely find an earthly answer for this phenomenon should it exist. However, I know for a fact that door was closed solid because I was the last one in to use it. My first thought wasn’t of Karla, I was just looking at it from the practical point of view, trying to ascertain how this could be. Then I started thinking about what Jeffy said, and realized that it certainly was a spirit, an angel at least, and yes, maybe even Karla. My first thought was this is “freaky”, but then, it isn’t the first time I have experienced the supernatural. It was an even more beautiful moment that joined with the best music my family and I have ever played together. Hence, I knew God’s hand was upon it all, I knew he was there, certainly, Karla was there too.
Soon after this event Pastor Ben came up to Jeffy and I and started to talk, we told him about the “freaky” event. Although he is more used to the supernatural than I, it was clear from his face that with all the events of the evening, the unity candle event, feeling the Spirit present, that it was yet another piece of evidence that God is present in our lives always--that miracles are still happening and possible. There was a look of wonder on his face as he said that the word is not “freaky”, but possible, true, and “Godly” is the word.
Isn’t life great to know that this isn’t all of life? There is another world that awaits us. A better world filled with the best possible music, a world without disease such as cancer and pain, and suffering. By our standards, that’s a little “freaky”, but by heavenly standards, it’s just another day!
I recently had the privilege and honor of playing music together with my family for a dear friend’s wedding. I can’t tell you what a joy it was to be playing guitar along with Sarah playing Harp, Lorhel playing Viola, and Jomay playing piano. This wasn’t easy music, this was classical stuff, and it carried beautifully on the wind. The gathering was mesmerized I am told at the reception, I know I was, it was perhaps my best musical moment of my life. One school teacher in her 60’s said it was the finest wedding music she has ever heard. I wasn’t at all surprised, I think it was, really. I thought, later, that 100 years ago, families gathered after the work day, the harvest, etc. and read the Bible together, or a book, or brought out the instruments and played together. Before internet and t.v., this was how we connected, this is how we spent our few leisurely moments together. We enjoyed one another, depended, needed, loved and respected one another. Today, a family that stays together like this, unfortunately, is a little “freaky”.
The bride that we played for is like a daughter to us, she has been on multiple vacations with us, house sat for us, and has been our children’s baby-sitter for a decade. Unfortunately, the bride’s mother could not be with us, as cancer took her life this year after a very long battle. Nevertheless, Karla was with us, her spirit was everywhere. It was apparent from the first moment as the pastor told a story about her and the Bride choosing a wedding dress together earlier in the year. Then, the unity candle wouldn’t lite---bad wick, the matches couldn’t get it. However, they were able to use the candle from the alter that they lit for Karla that burned brightly, to finally get it going. They were struck by the fact that Karla again saved the day, and realized that she was there with them, That is not the end of the story….
After the recessional, as folks slowly filtered out the front door, my son and I went into the hallway toward the back door to pick up the instrument cases so we could pack up. As we stood in the hallway, the very heavy steel and glass door back entrance opened up spontaneously. There was a rush of wind past us as the air from the Church found it’s way to the outside world. After about 30 seconds, the door then closed before our eyes, on it’s own. We both stood there speechless, until Jeffy said: “that was Karla.” Now, I am a scientist and would definitely find an earthly answer for this phenomenon should it exist. However, I know for a fact that door was closed solid because I was the last one in to use it. My first thought wasn’t of Karla, I was just looking at it from the practical point of view, trying to ascertain how this could be. Then I started thinking about what Jeffy said, and realized that it certainly was a spirit, an angel at least, and yes, maybe even Karla. My first thought was this is “freaky”, but then, it isn’t the first time I have experienced the supernatural. It was an even more beautiful moment that joined with the best music my family and I have ever played together. Hence, I knew God’s hand was upon it all, I knew he was there, certainly, Karla was there too.
Soon after this event Pastor Ben came up to Jeffy and I and started to talk, we told him about the “freaky” event. Although he is more used to the supernatural than I, it was clear from his face that with all the events of the evening, the unity candle event, feeling the Spirit present, that it was yet another piece of evidence that God is present in our lives always--that miracles are still happening and possible. There was a look of wonder on his face as he said that the word is not “freaky”, but possible, true, and “Godly” is the word.
Isn’t life great to know that this isn’t all of life? There is another world that awaits us. A better world filled with the best possible music, a world without disease such as cancer and pain, and suffering. By our standards, that’s a little “freaky”, but by heavenly standards, it’s just another day!
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Elements
Time to play catch-up on the Nook happenings. The weather has been so incredible. Almost every day is sunny, warm and breezy now for the past two weeks. I make it a point to include vital elements into every one of my days. First, I get up and make coffee, the brain at 50 doesn’t work without it. Then, I try to spend a few minutes talking to God. He’s the only one that listens to my complaints regularly. Then I either bike or kayak, depending on the weather. If I am working that day, I go to work, if not, I try to do a fun thing with my wife and family. That could mean touring, fishing, hiking or just cooking a meal together. Then, I always need to include some work in my day. My friend Dave told me the other day I have “hyperactivity disorder” because of that. I can work long and hard when I need to. Not, mind you, like Ed, but I make a pretty good show of it. If I am at the job, then the fun comes after—such as shooting clays or archery, or kayaking. I find this balance is amazingly therapeutic. Throughout the day I ponder this balance as I look at the sunrise and sunset from my southerly view, and then I also see the golden/orange moon sit down over my “front yard” now on a daily basis. I am so wonderfully blessed with this place, I can’t get enough of it.
A patient came up to me tonight at Jeffy’s first football practice and asked why I was here because he heard I was on vacation. Did you go anywhere? He asked. I told him that all my life I have been trying to get up here for all of my vacations. I told him that everything I need is here, that I don’t every want to leave. I expected him to grunt, or chuckle, but he just looked off at the boys conditioning on the football field, turned to me, and grinned. He didn’t say a word, just smiled. It was all we both needed, because he obviously feels the same way.
As Jeff walked out onto the football practice field for the first time tonight, not knowing a single boy, my heart bled for him. I could not imagine doing that, pulling up cold, coming from the “big city” to a small country town and school, not knowing what to expect, how I would be treated, etc. I prayed and hope for the elements to come together for him. He was only there a minute or two when another boy came up and introduced himself. Then I saw him take Jeff around and introduce him to the other boys. Turns out that was the varsity coach’s son. Ironic in that I was talking with the varsity coach at the same time. The varsity coach was there to help out, and was telling me about all the boys, how so many of them were strait A students, and polite and hard working, etc. He told me that these boys stick together, they encourage one another, and seek for the right “elements”.
As those boys left the practice field, I noted how red-faced and dirty they were, they were worked hard, to a horses “lather”. Yet, every ONE of them was smiling. As Jeff and I drove home, I asked him how it went. He said it was very cool, that they were all really nice, and encouraging. He really liked what the Coach said about life---that this is what is important, in this order: 1. God. 2. Family. 3. Football. 4. Hunting. I really can’t argue with that. I might put fishing ahead of Football, but, the point is made. Those are the correct elements. It was an incredible delight to see Jeff so happy, finding his own elements come together. At this point, it is like Findlay, Ohio is already a nice memory, not a sore spot. He has adapted, he has improvised, he has overcome. He has garnered his elements together, on the first practice. I only wish I could have done so well at 13!!!
A patient came up to me tonight at Jeffy’s first football practice and asked why I was here because he heard I was on vacation. Did you go anywhere? He asked. I told him that all my life I have been trying to get up here for all of my vacations. I told him that everything I need is here, that I don’t every want to leave. I expected him to grunt, or chuckle, but he just looked off at the boys conditioning on the football field, turned to me, and grinned. He didn’t say a word, just smiled. It was all we both needed, because he obviously feels the same way.
As Jeff walked out onto the football practice field for the first time tonight, not knowing a single boy, my heart bled for him. I could not imagine doing that, pulling up cold, coming from the “big city” to a small country town and school, not knowing what to expect, how I would be treated, etc. I prayed and hope for the elements to come together for him. He was only there a minute or two when another boy came up and introduced himself. Then I saw him take Jeff around and introduce him to the other boys. Turns out that was the varsity coach’s son. Ironic in that I was talking with the varsity coach at the same time. The varsity coach was there to help out, and was telling me about all the boys, how so many of them were strait A students, and polite and hard working, etc. He told me that these boys stick together, they encourage one another, and seek for the right “elements”.
As those boys left the practice field, I noted how red-faced and dirty they were, they were worked hard, to a horses “lather”. Yet, every ONE of them was smiling. As Jeff and I drove home, I asked him how it went. He said it was very cool, that they were all really nice, and encouraging. He really liked what the Coach said about life---that this is what is important, in this order: 1. God. 2. Family. 3. Football. 4. Hunting. I really can’t argue with that. I might put fishing ahead of Football, but, the point is made. Those are the correct elements. It was an incredible delight to see Jeff so happy, finding his own elements come together. At this point, it is like Findlay, Ohio is already a nice memory, not a sore spot. He has adapted, he has improvised, he has overcome. He has garnered his elements together, on the first practice. I only wish I could have done so well at 13!!!
Monday, July 21, 2008
One Of The Best Days Of My Life
One Of The Best Days Of My Life
Abby, our boxer, woke me up about 0700 by snorting and slobbering at my bedside. I surmised that she wanted to go out. Thus, I walked downstairs and opened the outside door and she just stood there, looking at me. Ahh, she wanted food, not out, I told her she shouldn’t wake me up on a day off, that it wasn’t time for breakfast, and to go back to sleep. Abby, always the good dog otherwise, did just that as did I. A couple more hours go by and Jeffy and I finally wake, feed Abby her old dog diet prescription dog food and start to load the truck. Day’s list: Clay launcher, 12 gauge shotgun, shells, clays. Rifle, pistol for target range and targets and stapler to put targets up. Long Bow, target arrows for 3-D archery range. Waders, 4 foot spin casting rods and short fly rods for brook trout fishing, Michigan Style. Lots of flies and tackle. Cooler, Mountain Dew and snickers for Boy, bottled water, apples and oranges for Old Man On Prescription Diet, off we go. Crap, remembered everything except cash, check wallet, shoot, only 10 bucks. Oh well, we have everything we need.
The one hour drive into the Seney National Forest was “totally cool” as Jeffy would say. Passing over river after river, seeing deer, and eagles and cedar forests, really made the time go by. I had a rough map drawn by a nurse that fishes up in here with her husband sometimes---so I missed a couple turns, but finally found the stream she was talking about. Sorry, I still am not sure of the name of it. Jeffy was whining a bit, it was a long ride, and he’d still rather be back in Ohio with his gaming buddies he said. Well, after multiple tries upstream with flies and even worms, no trout. Jeffy was thinking about calling it a day when he hooked into a beautiful little 6 inch brookie a few minutes later. It was pretty exciting to see that trout dangling from his line---not so exciting to see it drop off though. Anyway, the chase was on, he tasted blood. Soon it was, “I can do it Dad”, “let me take to rod Dad.” I was so proud of him, so happy to see him get the fishing bug. I wished my Dad, his Grand Dad could be here, seeing him get excited about it and take control. Most of the rest of the time I was busy changing hooks and bait for him. He caught another that was a bit bigger. Too bad the big one got him snagged on some logs. I almost didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wasn’t snagged at first, that the bouncing log was a big trout---but as all wise and big old trout do, he found a log and took some fishing line around it. I wonder what kind of old trout prescription diet he’s on, hah. That Old Trout is still partying and carousing and eating any kind of food he wants and all kinds of sickly bugs and and I bet HE never had a low fat lunch. Maybe I should have just been a trout.
Well, it was time to go, I was getting very hungry after my breakfast of a banana and coffee and we both wanted to shoot. So, we went back to Seney and found the first diner, nope, don’t take credit cards. Found a little bar and grill in MacMillen, nope, don’t take credit cards. Remember, I was out of cash,. Finally, almost to Newberry, we found a family restaurant that had the VISA sticker in the window. It was a war zone in there. The tourist breakfast crowd had destroyed the place, There must have been 20 tables with empty plates and discarded food on them. So much for the bad economy and gas crisis—looks like Michigan folks are touring Michigan again instead of California, Florida, etc. The waitress was the busboy, waitress, hostess and cashier. That’s the U.P factor at work, don’t be in a hurry my friend. Fortunately, there was a salad and soup bar with three soups. Beef barley, chicken noodle, and split pea so we could start eating low fat food right away. Jeffy then began to say he wasn’t hungry anyway, that he didn’t want to eat and wished he were back in Ohio, he was pouting. He said that the fishing was ok, but he’d rather be back with his buddies. I looked at his blue eyes, then I looked at the rain come down on the parking lot and can’t remember feeling as sad as I was. I saw my father’s face and remembered him taking me brook trout fishing for the first time, and I remembered it rained that day too. I didn’t say anything at first, then, with my voice choking, I said, “ Jeffy, I would give anything to have one more day with my father, even just one more hour, just one more day, one more day. Maybe now you don’t see that, but someday, you will want to be here with me having those chicken wings.”
It rained all the way to the shooting range and then it rained as we parked there. Jeffy said, “let’s give it 15 minutes”. 15, 20, 30 went by and finally, it stopped. We proceeded to shoot over 60 rounds. Jeffy connected on about the 6th clay, remembering to put all his elements together. He was feeling very confident towards the end, and challenged me to a duel. He said, best out of three and if I win I get a 25 dollar game for the X-Box and if you win, I owe you 5 hours of work. I said, it would be best if your Christian heart would just work for you Dad for free, but ok, it’s a deal. He won round one with ¾ clays. I won round two with a perfect 4/4. Then, I couldn’t hit anything, 0/4 and Jeffy ¾. Thus, Jeffy 2, Dad 1. He began round three with 2/2 and then missed the next two. I found the zone, and hit 3/3 when he conceded. The barrel was so hot at times we had to let it cool. However, his newfound excitement about our time together could not be cooled. Despite his loosing the competition, I think he realized he won something greater. He won, stole away from fate, an incredible day with his Dad. I think, although he didn’t say it, it was one of the best days of his life. I know for sure, it was one of mine. I know MY Dad was there with us the whole time, trying to find us a trout or two, watching his grand son shoot clays like an expert. What a day, what a day indeed, One of The Best Days Of Life. Hey, you know what’s “funny”, I haven’t heard a word about friends, Ohio, or being anywhere else in the 4 hours we have been back home!
From the Naubinway Nook, I am, despite a low fat diet, a happy father, best wishes,
Jeff
Abby, our boxer, woke me up about 0700 by snorting and slobbering at my bedside. I surmised that she wanted to go out. Thus, I walked downstairs and opened the outside door and she just stood there, looking at me. Ahh, she wanted food, not out, I told her she shouldn’t wake me up on a day off, that it wasn’t time for breakfast, and to go back to sleep. Abby, always the good dog otherwise, did just that as did I. A couple more hours go by and Jeffy and I finally wake, feed Abby her old dog diet prescription dog food and start to load the truck. Day’s list: Clay launcher, 12 gauge shotgun, shells, clays. Rifle, pistol for target range and targets and stapler to put targets up. Long Bow, target arrows for 3-D archery range. Waders, 4 foot spin casting rods and short fly rods for brook trout fishing, Michigan Style. Lots of flies and tackle. Cooler, Mountain Dew and snickers for Boy, bottled water, apples and oranges for Old Man On Prescription Diet, off we go. Crap, remembered everything except cash, check wallet, shoot, only 10 bucks. Oh well, we have everything we need.
The one hour drive into the Seney National Forest was “totally cool” as Jeffy would say. Passing over river after river, seeing deer, and eagles and cedar forests, really made the time go by. I had a rough map drawn by a nurse that fishes up in here with her husband sometimes---so I missed a couple turns, but finally found the stream she was talking about. Sorry, I still am not sure of the name of it. Jeffy was whining a bit, it was a long ride, and he’d still rather be back in Ohio with his gaming buddies he said. Well, after multiple tries upstream with flies and even worms, no trout. Jeffy was thinking about calling it a day when he hooked into a beautiful little 6 inch brookie a few minutes later. It was pretty exciting to see that trout dangling from his line---not so exciting to see it drop off though. Anyway, the chase was on, he tasted blood. Soon it was, “I can do it Dad”, “let me take to rod Dad.” I was so proud of him, so happy to see him get the fishing bug. I wished my Dad, his Grand Dad could be here, seeing him get excited about it and take control. Most of the rest of the time I was busy changing hooks and bait for him. He caught another that was a bit bigger. Too bad the big one got him snagged on some logs. I almost didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wasn’t snagged at first, that the bouncing log was a big trout---but as all wise and big old trout do, he found a log and took some fishing line around it. I wonder what kind of old trout prescription diet he’s on, hah. That Old Trout is still partying and carousing and eating any kind of food he wants and all kinds of sickly bugs and and I bet HE never had a low fat lunch. Maybe I should have just been a trout.
Well, it was time to go, I was getting very hungry after my breakfast of a banana and coffee and we both wanted to shoot. So, we went back to Seney and found the first diner, nope, don’t take credit cards. Found a little bar and grill in MacMillen, nope, don’t take credit cards. Remember, I was out of cash,. Finally, almost to Newberry, we found a family restaurant that had the VISA sticker in the window. It was a war zone in there. The tourist breakfast crowd had destroyed the place, There must have been 20 tables with empty plates and discarded food on them. So much for the bad economy and gas crisis—looks like Michigan folks are touring Michigan again instead of California, Florida, etc. The waitress was the busboy, waitress, hostess and cashier. That’s the U.P factor at work, don’t be in a hurry my friend. Fortunately, there was a salad and soup bar with three soups. Beef barley, chicken noodle, and split pea so we could start eating low fat food right away. Jeffy then began to say he wasn’t hungry anyway, that he didn’t want to eat and wished he were back in Ohio, he was pouting. He said that the fishing was ok, but he’d rather be back with his buddies. I looked at his blue eyes, then I looked at the rain come down on the parking lot and can’t remember feeling as sad as I was. I saw my father’s face and remembered him taking me brook trout fishing for the first time, and I remembered it rained that day too. I didn’t say anything at first, then, with my voice choking, I said, “ Jeffy, I would give anything to have one more day with my father, even just one more hour, just one more day, one more day. Maybe now you don’t see that, but someday, you will want to be here with me having those chicken wings.”
It rained all the way to the shooting range and then it rained as we parked there. Jeffy said, “let’s give it 15 minutes”. 15, 20, 30 went by and finally, it stopped. We proceeded to shoot over 60 rounds. Jeffy connected on about the 6th clay, remembering to put all his elements together. He was feeling very confident towards the end, and challenged me to a duel. He said, best out of three and if I win I get a 25 dollar game for the X-Box and if you win, I owe you 5 hours of work. I said, it would be best if your Christian heart would just work for you Dad for free, but ok, it’s a deal. He won round one with ¾ clays. I won round two with a perfect 4/4. Then, I couldn’t hit anything, 0/4 and Jeffy ¾. Thus, Jeffy 2, Dad 1. He began round three with 2/2 and then missed the next two. I found the zone, and hit 3/3 when he conceded. The barrel was so hot at times we had to let it cool. However, his newfound excitement about our time together could not be cooled. Despite his loosing the competition, I think he realized he won something greater. He won, stole away from fate, an incredible day with his Dad. I think, although he didn’t say it, it was one of the best days of his life. I know for sure, it was one of mine. I know MY Dad was there with us the whole time, trying to find us a trout or two, watching his grand son shoot clays like an expert. What a day, what a day indeed, One of The Best Days Of Life. Hey, you know what’s “funny”, I haven’t heard a word about friends, Ohio, or being anywhere else in the 4 hours we have been back home!
From the Naubinway Nook, I am, despite a low fat diet, a happy father, best wishes,
Jeff
Friday, July 11, 2008
Fishing, A Few Good Men
Fishing.
Sadly, the family, and our friends Tom and Gale and family had to return to Findlay. So, I was left with the big complex, an empty beach, house, garages, yard, more room than any man should have. More room than I deserve. I contemplated my options, work more on the house and yard, go trout fishing, or try to launch the boat alone and go lake fishing. The struggle between work and play was easy. I quickly ruled out more carpentry, and focused on the fishing. I resolved to go trout fishing. However, as I put my fly fishing gear together and looked at my waders, the temperature of the day began to rise and the sun came out in its greatest glory. In one view I saw myself walking thru the brush of the river in the 70 degree plus heat (yeah, that’s heat for me now)---and then a comparative view came to me. This second view was of me tooling around the lake with the big mercury quietly propelling me thru the waves, wind on my scalp (used to be wind in my hair), an ice cold diet vernors in my hand, etc., and that vision eventually won out. We had company next door that day, and as I hitched up the boat to the truck my neighbor asked if I needed help. I think he was kind of asking if he could go. Now, I like my neighbors a lot, even though they are here for a long time, about 3 weeks out of the year. But I really wanted to see how I would do launching and landing the boat alone, and I just needed some time alone, so I declined his offer for “help”. I quickly hitched up the boat and drove the 7 miles to Lake Millicoquins. This time I remembered to put in the drain plug before launching. This time I backed up expertly and easily launched the boat. I pulled it off the trailer and moved it aside and parked the truck. Too bad some grizzled Yoopers weren’t watching me this day. Usually they see me crashing the trailer into the dock, or stand there watching and laughing as the boat starts to sink because I forgot the drain plug. Anyway, as usual, the new Mercury Outboard started on the first key stroke and I was off. I hadn’t had the boat up to 34 mph in a while, impossible to do while tubing or with company in the boat, but it came easy to her with just me in the boat. I know that’s not very fast by today’s bass boat standards, but it’s plenty fast for me now. After doing multiple figure eights and traversing the entire lake twice with the oldies but goodies station on the radio I settled down to fishing. I fished along the edge of the weedbeds that Eddy and I did so well in for pike last year, but this time without success. I fished for an hour by spin-casting without a fish, even though I saw many jumping. I took out the 7 weight fly rod on a whim then and put the big mouse pattern on. Still,no success on the edge of the weeds. Fortunately, I threw a very bad cast up into the lilies and was cursing my inadequacy when there was a voracious eruption and the water literally boiled from the weeds strait up at my mouse and it was devoured by a very large, very feisty fish. I thought it was a pike because he sounded to the bottom of the weed beds and I thought I was snagged in the weeds because I couldn’t budge the rod. I was contemplating breaking off when all of a sudden the line loosened and I saw the flash of the fish. After about 5 more minutes I landed the largest small-mouth bass of my life. I don’t know how much he weighed, because I released him without harm while his tail was still in the water. I do know that he was the largest I ever caught, and I thanked him for teaching me how to catch smallies in that lake on a sunny day. The rest of his buddies probably didn’t thank him as they tasted my hook throughout the afternoon. In any case, it’s obvious that it’s called “fishing” instead of “catching” because it’s rare for any technique or method to work the same way twice. You have to adapt, you have to improvise, you have to overcome. I’ve learned this much at least from the best men on earth, the Marines. I’m sure looking forward to taking a Few Good Men with me out there again, and find out what works the next time!!! It’s so good to know I don’t have that kind of struggle to find the best friend on earth. I don’t have to go fishing for a friend. I have the best friends a man could have, such as Eddy, and Ron, and Scott, and on and on, the proud, the few, those U.S. Marines.
Sadly, the family, and our friends Tom and Gale and family had to return to Findlay. So, I was left with the big complex, an empty beach, house, garages, yard, more room than any man should have. More room than I deserve. I contemplated my options, work more on the house and yard, go trout fishing, or try to launch the boat alone and go lake fishing. The struggle between work and play was easy. I quickly ruled out more carpentry, and focused on the fishing. I resolved to go trout fishing. However, as I put my fly fishing gear together and looked at my waders, the temperature of the day began to rise and the sun came out in its greatest glory. In one view I saw myself walking thru the brush of the river in the 70 degree plus heat (yeah, that’s heat for me now)---and then a comparative view came to me. This second view was of me tooling around the lake with the big mercury quietly propelling me thru the waves, wind on my scalp (used to be wind in my hair), an ice cold diet vernors in my hand, etc., and that vision eventually won out. We had company next door that day, and as I hitched up the boat to the truck my neighbor asked if I needed help. I think he was kind of asking if he could go. Now, I like my neighbors a lot, even though they are here for a long time, about 3 weeks out of the year. But I really wanted to see how I would do launching and landing the boat alone, and I just needed some time alone, so I declined his offer for “help”. I quickly hitched up the boat and drove the 7 miles to Lake Millicoquins. This time I remembered to put in the drain plug before launching. This time I backed up expertly and easily launched the boat. I pulled it off the trailer and moved it aside and parked the truck. Too bad some grizzled Yoopers weren’t watching me this day. Usually they see me crashing the trailer into the dock, or stand there watching and laughing as the boat starts to sink because I forgot the drain plug. Anyway, as usual, the new Mercury Outboard started on the first key stroke and I was off. I hadn’t had the boat up to 34 mph in a while, impossible to do while tubing or with company in the boat, but it came easy to her with just me in the boat. I know that’s not very fast by today’s bass boat standards, but it’s plenty fast for me now. After doing multiple figure eights and traversing the entire lake twice with the oldies but goodies station on the radio I settled down to fishing. I fished along the edge of the weedbeds that Eddy and I did so well in for pike last year, but this time without success. I fished for an hour by spin-casting without a fish, even though I saw many jumping. I took out the 7 weight fly rod on a whim then and put the big mouse pattern on. Still,no success on the edge of the weeds. Fortunately, I threw a very bad cast up into the lilies and was cursing my inadequacy when there was a voracious eruption and the water literally boiled from the weeds strait up at my mouse and it was devoured by a very large, very feisty fish. I thought it was a pike because he sounded to the bottom of the weed beds and I thought I was snagged in the weeds because I couldn’t budge the rod. I was contemplating breaking off when all of a sudden the line loosened and I saw the flash of the fish. After about 5 more minutes I landed the largest small-mouth bass of my life. I don’t know how much he weighed, because I released him without harm while his tail was still in the water. I do know that he was the largest I ever caught, and I thanked him for teaching me how to catch smallies in that lake on a sunny day. The rest of his buddies probably didn’t thank him as they tasted my hook throughout the afternoon. In any case, it’s obvious that it’s called “fishing” instead of “catching” because it’s rare for any technique or method to work the same way twice. You have to adapt, you have to improvise, you have to overcome. I’ve learned this much at least from the best men on earth, the Marines. I’m sure looking forward to taking a Few Good Men with me out there again, and find out what works the next time!!! It’s so good to know I don’t have that kind of struggle to find the best friend on earth. I don’t have to go fishing for a friend. I have the best friends a man could have, such as Eddy, and Ron, and Scott, and on and on, the proud, the few, those U.S. Marines.
Ok, Ok, Ok, yes, I’m still alive!!!! I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a month---but that actually reflects a good thing. You see, I have been so involved with celebrating 25 incredible years of marriage with Jomay, taking kids tubing, entertaining company at the Nook---that I just haven’t spent much time on-line. Jomay and I just returned from a Bed and Breakfast in Saginaw, Michigan where we celebrated our 25th. The B and B is a restored 1920’s mansion and we rented the biggest suite they had. Jo Jo had talked to a friend about it before we went and she asked “so are you prepared?” Jomay took that to heart and brought champagne, chocolates, my favorite snacks and even bought a new very soft pink nightie that she wore. Needless to say we enjoyed the hot tub and I enjoyed the nightie very much. But more importantly, really, were the long walks along the river, in the gardens, the dinner together in the dining room which we had to OURSELVES. The executive chef came out twice just to talk and asked how things were. We really re-discovered how much we love each other, more than ever. I’m reminded of several biblical references about “preparing”. How the room for the last supper was prepared, how many years and experiences it took Moses to be prepared, how many years the Hebrews wandered in the desert before they were prepared to enter the promised land. It is a tremendous blessing to be prepared to meet my wife and celebrate our life together. I feel as if I am prepared for another 25 years. I certainly pray and hope for that. This move has not been easy, being away for days at a time. However, the absence has only strengthened our resolve. Yeah, maybe absence makes the heart grow fonder thing applies, I don’t know. But Jomay has just always been the gal that gets better looking inside and out the more I get to know her. Just when I think I have discovered everything about her, some new turn of her face, or thing she says, captivates me as if for the first time. There was a journal in the Suite we stayed in that previous guests had entries in. There were many stories of hoping the stay at the B and B would re-kindle romance, heal the pain of an affair---many guests were not married, they were living “in sin” so it goes. As I read thru the pages of people saying they were married there at the B and B, or came back to stay where they were married---most were married for 2, 5, or the longest, 7 years. Wow, I thought to myself, 25 years is long by today’s standards. Sure, I know couples married for 50, even 70 years. Unfortunately, that is the exception anymore. That is a good word for us, the “exception”, in love more than ever after 3 kids, career changes, drama and trauma that we all experience living this life. Thank God we were prepared in some way for all of it, Thank God we are prepared to make this move and weather every storm. Thank God he gave me my soul mate. Thank God he prepared me to move to Florida and go to college there and find the most beautiful woman in the whole world.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Tough People
I always knew folks up here were tough. You have the long cold winter to contend with, and in the spring massive swarms of various bugs, and even in the summer some pretty ferocious winds and storms have to be met. However, nothing prepared me for the life stories I am privileged to hear these past two weeks. First, there is the lady who lives on the same dairy farm she was literally born on. She came into the world about 78 years ago on an early cold morning and her father delivered her. She came out cyanotic (blue) with the cord wrapped around her neck three times. Dad, who had delivered other children and many cows, reduced the cord, delivered her and tried to revive her. Despite his best efforts, she remained blue and breathing intermittently. Thus, he cut the cord and left her with mother, as he hitched up the wagon to the team and drove into town to get the local doctor---who fortunately was only about 7 miles away that week. The doctor rotated towns back then, and news of his arrival spread and folks would come in to see him during his itinerant week. The doctor came back with him, and working thru the night, kept the wee baby alive enough to meet me 78 years later. She said until this day she occasionally has trouble breathing and when she does, her feet turn blue. She relates that she is sure this is due to her mother’s prolonged labor, and her own near death. I really can’t dispute that—in any case, she is truly the product of a miracle birth. Obviously, God intended her to survive, and go on to run the dairy farm and produce numerous offspring of her own. All of which she too delivered in the same farmhouse. As if this wasn’t enough, I met a man in his 80’s, or maybe 90’s (he’s not sure) today, who was the 6th child of 12. His mother in fact had over 20 pregnancies, while she raised the family, milked the cows and took care of her husband, a logger. They lived in what my patient calls a “one room shack”. He says all the boys served in some capacity in WWII. He says he can’t understand how his mother waited for news from the war and did all this while the husband was away for months at a time, and still lived to be 80 something herself. She perhaps defines the phrase “barefoot and pregnant”. She was pregnant most of the time he can remember living at home in the shack. He said when a stillborn came, they would bury the infant out back, with the others. There was no fanfare, coroner’s inquiry, etc. They dried their tears, cleaned up, buried, and went on to tend to the cows, the garden the other children in their subsistence existence. Note that this is not 1776---this is life in the Upper Peninsula a mere 60 or 70 years ago. There were few paved roads---mostly logging trails. The land was filled with rich soil, but plagued with rocks in the soil. It would take years to till the land, dig up the rocks, and get the grass to grow for the dairy cows. Back breaking, incessant work before Tylenol or Motrin were common household items. Before in fact, the doctor was only 7 miles away. They are Fins and Swedes and Germans and Poles who still speak both languages. People who even today enter the doctor’s room with near reverence, to think that maybe I am the one who would stay up with that blue baby, getting her to turn pink by morning. Someone so rare that 7 miles away by horse and buggy is actually “pretty close, purt near next door.” Wow, I say, what an amazing people, what an amazing Peninsula, what an amazing County. These horse and buggy dairy farmers were or produced our greatest generation. Now, I am less surprised that they could hit that beach in Normandy, and dig into and spit up sand and bullets and keep on going all the way to Berlin. Is it any surprise? That is America, they are America, they are God’s Gift. Sad to think that there will never be another people like this. But what a joy to get to meet them still!!! Go out today and find one and give them a hug!!!
Monday, June 2, 2008
Inevitably you will eat a bug someday. Living on the shores of Lake Michigan, in the Northern Wood, is a privilege. Indeed, I am sitting here looking at the Lake in a southerly blow, watching white-caps form or a turquoise sea. It is cloudless, except for the swarms of this black gnat that form above the tree lines. You can see these swarms from miles away. It is amazing. If it’s not windy in the morning you can hear them buzzing overhead. The mass of gnats makes that humming sound you hear from one of those big mercury lamps that humm in the night. The columns of bugs rise in a tornado like pattern above the trees as much as 300 feet long and 50 feet wide. You have to be careful when they are hatching and you are outside because they will find their way into your ears, nose, mouth and yes, I’ve swallowed or inhaled them. Now if you’re a trout this is a pretty good thing. It’s the feast time of year for fish following the long winter fast. In fact, I just finished catching 5 very feisty rainbow trout today. They were 10 to 15 inches. The largest fish I had on today was the first one I hooked, but he obtained his freedom by spitting the hook before I could get him near the bank. He had a rather large girth to him, I think he must have been 3 pounds. Pretty nice for a cold pond Michigan rainbow. I used a variety of bugs, trout candy, but alas the wooly bugger outperformed them all. This is typical of course. So anyway, it occurred to me that dealing with these relatively harmless, non-biting swarms of gnats is just one price I must pay to be surrounded by one of the most beautiful places on earth. Sometimes you have to swallow your pride in life. Sometimes you have to swallow food somebody prepared that tastes awful, because you are polite. And sometimes, we must even eat a bug. Even bugs are good, they fatten the fish in advance of when the long, cold nights come to the land. They are good in that they give me something to write about. They are good because somebody gets paid to study them. Yeah, for me, up here in the Nook in the North, I’ve come to even like the bugs too.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Do you remember the Maytag Repairman commercials? The middle-aged gentleman sitting in the Maytag Office with his Maytag uniform on and sleeping most of the time? The phone would ring and it would wake him up and startle him. Most of the time it was a wrong number or a salesman. The premise was Maytag’s are so reliable that you never needed to call the repairman. I have to say that my experience with Maytag’s really is close to that. In any case, I was sitting in my office today about 3 p.m. after seeing 9 patients for the day. I had already paid my bills, took a short refresher in reading EKG’s, surfed e-bay looking for a pellet stove, talked to about 9 hospital employees about the weather. I had my feet up on my desk and was drifting off when my nurse came in to tell me a patient was ready. She startled me and I was a bit embarrassed as my feet fell off the desk. I rather quickly apologized and said I feel like I am the Maytag Repairman today. My very capable and most pleasant nurse looked at me rather puzzled and said: “well I’m not sure what that means but ok, if you say so.” It occurred to me that she had never heard of the Maytag Repairman commercials. I asked her when was she born and she told me 1976. Ahh, I said, yes, those commercials were mostly before then. In addition, I reflected, that’s when I graduated from High School. Of course, it shook me up a bit, realizing my age, but I went on to earn my keep. On my way home I reflected on the fact that I took care of two hospital patients and saw a few complicated ones in the office with extensive medical histories and really did earn my keep after all. Rather than let my age awareness bother me, I was thankful for it as I watched the streams and cedar trees go by. I was thankful that I have lived long enough to tell my nurse about the Maytag Repairman commercials. I am sad, yet also thankful that I have already out-lived many special friends. Why God has allowed me this I don’t know, but I thank him for it. I am thankful that I am back home in the country of my youth. I am thankful for the smile and the laugh that comes over me as I get home by 4 or 4:30 and still have so much time left in the day to enjoy the lake, and the swans, and the gulls, and the eagles and the hawks that go overhead. To think that I would still be buried in a mountain of charts and traffic and go go go if fate hadn’t yanked me from the darkness. I can appreciate Eddy Albert more in Green Acres when in the opening song he reflected thus, about thanking God for the country life, the chores, etc. I am thankful that I don’t have a wife like Zza Zza Gabor who thinks more of stores than God’s beautiful country. There is a fog over Lake Michigan, but there is no fog in my head.
Friday, May 30, 2008
The Nine Pound Small-Mouth Bass
To say I like my new job is rather an understatement. Today I had the pleasure and joy of meeting a very good father and his 12 year-old boy. I had already taken care of the medical problem at hand and we commenced to discuss the main issue of the day, the best spring fishing. This very intelligent, animated boy, proceeded to tell me about all his best fishing spots and the large small-mouth bass that he caught last fall. They had been fishing at their favorite inland lake for a while, from shore, and didn’t catch anything. This young man all of sudden yelled that he had a big one on, and his pole was waving madly in the wind. Father, brother and even mother ran to the shore to see what all the commotion was about. The young man played it up for a minute, and then said he was “just kidding”, there wasn’t a real fish on, he is just a joker you see. Well, about 15 minutes later this “NINE” pound small-mouth bass really did take his bait and soon the fight was on. He screamed to his family, “fish on, fish on, help, get the net”. Of course, they ignored him. It wasn’t long when the “NINE” pound bass jumped into a fury of frothy splashes and they started to take him seriously. Mother had already started cleaning up and had taken the net back to the van. Father ran furiously toward the van, but couldn’t find the net. Mother all the while was screaming directions to the net to Father while the bass took out line. Dad finally found the net on the dashboard and hurried back to the beach. Dad goes into the water and the line promptly winds around his legs as he missed the bass on the first scoop. Despite the tangles the bass takes out line again but eventually Dad becomes untangled and they proceed to land this very large small-mouth. Now, I have never seen a “NINE” pound small-mouth myself, but the boy swears by it. Dad said it was more like four, but like all good fishermen the boy earned his literary license that all good boys deserve when it comes to fishing. I suspect that that fish will continue to grow over the years, and this is my favorite type of “growth”. I am reminded me of my own son’s 12 pound salmon caught two autumn salmon fishing trips ago. You see, that fish is now over 20 pounds when he describes it and re-tells the story. Of course, the fish had two more years to grow and probably is 20 pounds by now, out there somewhere. Somewhere, maybe, there’s a “NINE” pound small-mouth bass out there for you or me. In any case, someday soon I am going to go fishing with that very good father and his very bright boy.
To say I like my new job is rather an understatement. Today I had the pleasure and joy of meeting a very good father and his 12 year-old boy. I had already taken care of the medical problem at hand and we commenced to discuss the main issue of the day, the best spring fishing. This very intelligent, animated boy, proceeded to tell me about all his best fishing spots and the large small-mouth bass that he caught last fall. They had been fishing at their favorite inland lake for a while, from shore, and didn’t catch anything. This young man all of sudden yelled that he had a big one on, and his pole was waving madly in the wind. Father, brother and even mother ran to the shore to see what all the commotion was about. The young man played it up for a minute, and then said he was “just kidding”, there wasn’t a real fish on, he is just a joker you see. Well, about 15 minutes later this “NINE” pound small-mouth bass really did take his bait and soon the fight was on. He screamed to his family, “fish on, fish on, help, get the net”. Of course, they ignored him. It wasn’t long when the “NINE” pound bass jumped into a fury of frothy splashes and they started to take him seriously. Mother had already started cleaning up and had taken the net back to the van. Father ran furiously toward the van, but couldn’t find the net. Mother all the while was screaming directions to the net to Father while the bass took out line. Dad finally found the net on the dashboard and hurried back to the beach. Dad goes into the water and the line promptly winds around his legs as he missed the bass on the first scoop. Despite the tangles the bass takes out line again but eventually Dad becomes untangled and they proceed to land this very large small-mouth. Now, I have never seen a “NINE” pound small-mouth myself, but the boy swears by it. Dad said it was more like four, but like all good fishermen the boy earned his literary license that all good boys deserve when it comes to fishing. I suspect that that fish will continue to grow over the years, and this is my favorite type of “growth”. I am reminded me of my own son’s 12 pound salmon caught two autumn salmon fishing trips ago. You see, that fish is now over 20 pounds when he describes it and re-tells the story. Of course, the fish had two more years to grow and probably is 20 pounds by now, out there somewhere. Somewhere, maybe, there’s a “NINE” pound small-mouth bass out there for you or me. In any case, someday soon I am going to go fishing with that very good father and his very bright boy.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Tick Season
What a year for Ticks!!! I’ve treated several people now for Tick related problems. Most of these include local infections or allergic reactions at the site of attachment. I have not seen a single “Deer Tick”, the vector for Lyme Disease, nor have I seen in case of Lyme Disease yet. In fact, there are no reports of patients with Lyme Disease in my Counties (Mackinac and Luce) in many years. I had the fortune to meet a forester today and I asked him why he thought Ticks were so prevalent this year. I’ve brushed off several, and while Erica was visiting here she discovered they really love her! He said they have a cycle of about every three years here and this is their time. I didn’t remember that from microbiology, but in fact did confirm that tonight. They do go thru a life cycle that can result in some heavy tick years. Fortunately, only a few ticks are lucky enough to find a host---which they need to complete their life cycle. Most are actually found in grassy areas, more so than in wooded ones. They lay in wait in the grass, for you or me to walk by. Anyway, they are relatively harmless around here. My Forester Friend put it best, “I’m more afraid of getting struck by lightning outdoors than I am about getting Lyme Disease!” Most importantly, my new friend is going to take me brook trout fishing to some of his favorite spots soon. He said that last year by his “rough” count, he caught over 800 brook trout. One day alone he caught and released over 80. I am developing quite a resource of fishing friends. I certainly hope that these wonderful streams will become part of my fishing repertoire soon! I will keep exploring. This weekend I am going to fish the Upper Millicoquins, but also want to start working in my Big Garage. I am going to take the kayak racks out of the east end, take out the shelves, and get my shop together. That way to tools will be ready for re-doing our master closet, closing in the front porch, and eventually finishing the new addition. Then I’ll insulate it and put a pellet stove out there. It will be cozy enough for my fishing buddies to hang out in there. Heck, you’ll even be able to crash out there. My very active life here is great for me, my pants are all getting too big as I thin down again! Wishing you the best, saying Ya from Da U.P. Ay!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
My New Friend Fred. I have made a new friend here, his name is Fred. Fred and I met due to the simplest of things, an apple core. I was outside admiring the view of Lake Michigan, eating a Michigan grown red delicious apple, and watching a squirrel opening acorns atop a stump of a tree I cut down last year. I finished the apple and threw the core into the wood about 25 feet behind the squirrel. All of sudden he stopped eating the acorn, stood up, ran into the wood and immediately retrieved the apple core from the brush. I was rather amazed that he could find it in the briar and raspberry bushes, but he did. He came back to his perch on the stump and proceeded to continuously rotate the core and completely nibble it down to nothing. I don't know why, but he reminded me of an intelligent, very fast friend I had up here years ago named "Fast Freddie". Given this squirrels obvious inteligence and prowess and speed, he now is named Fred. I put a whole apple on Fred's stump yesterday morn and went off to work. When I came home the apple was gone of course. Now you may think that a deer got it, or a coon. But I'm putting my money on Fred. I'm reminded of my Grandfather Walter by this---and his pet chipmunk. In those marvelous summers I spent with him on Douglas Lake in Northern Michigan, he befriended a chipmunk. He had a Polish name for the chipmunk that I can't remember, but I'd like to think it was "Fred". It started innocently enough, with both the chipmunk and my Grandfather being startled one day by each other in the garage. Grandfather used to sit out in the garage and eat peanuts and the shells would drop to the floor. He'd just sit there enjoying the summer Northern Michigan day, eating peanuts or just rocking in the chair, out in the garage, for hours. Now I realize that was his man cave, his respite away from the much more beautiful, fairer and intelligent sex. It wasn't long until the chipmunk started watching him from about 12 foot away, just watching Grandpa eating those peanuts. Then it was 6 feet, then he'd scurry underneath Grandfather's chair and scoop up the remnants. By the time I entered this story Grandfather's "Fred" was on his shoulder, on his knee, and he even allowed Fred to take a peanut from his shirt pocket while I watched. But I could only get within about 5 or 6 feet and Fred would run away. He learned to trust my Grandfather, but no other human being. There were a lot of us who trusted Grandfather like that, he was just that kind of guy. A man's man, firm, but allowing you to see the tender side enough that just mesmerized you. You just wanted to be around him, like I'm heard was Walt Whitman, or Abraham Lincoln. Grandfather loved that little chipmunk. But I know he loved me so much more, and as I sit here with tears in my eyes, I am thankful for my Fred. I am thankful of how he reminded me of my Grandfather, and how wonderful it is to be here in Northern Michigan, watching the sky go by, maybe eat some peanuts. I'm watching life go by slowly again. I am, alive again, and I know, I know Grandpa had these same feelings of joy and thankfulness to be here. Well, I know my Grandfather now lives in an even greater place, but I betcha there he has a friend named Fred.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Howdy Friends. I've been asked why I haven't been posting pics of the deer, the brook trout streams, etc. Fact is I'm still posting from dial-up, too time consuming to upload. However, I have ordered Hughes Satellite Internet and should have it in a couple weeks if I can coordinate with the installer. I also have high speed now at work and have a new Toshiba Lap Top the Hospital has supplied me with. I will be going to Findlay this weekend and get the cables I need to connect my camera phone to the computer so I can start posting photos of the beautiful Northland. It is sad to report that my friends Dan and Erica had to depart early this morn for the sunny state of Florida---they had quite an adventure in the U.P.---made it all the over to Wisconsin and back and still found time to hang out with me and dine at Chamberlain's on Big Manistique Lake, fish for brookies and pike, hike, bicycle, kayak and have a marvelously "awesome" time as Erica would say! This is my first call weekend here and I am still trying to adjust to a very different call system. I don't get outside pages from patients, that's all handled thru the E.R. and walk-in clinic on the weekend---so the pager is strangely quiet for hours and hours. When it beeps its from the E.R. or nurses station it is generally benign. There were a few hours yesterday where I had to help a critically ill patient get transferred out---but even that was relatively painless. Presently I'm looking at Lake Michigan and thinking about my Lorhel in a concert tonight in Cinci---Jomay, Sarah, Jeffy, Julie and Lindsey went down to partake in the joy of a live orchestra---a treat I have come to hear often in our musical life. I am looking forward to seeing them of course, and dream of the day we are all together up here. However, I do not miss life otherwise below the Mackinac Bridge. The circle of life here is you are raised in Northern Michigan---and can't wait to get out when you are in High School. Then, many years are spent trying to get back. Once you return, and grow acustomed to the continual view of cedars against the ephemeral, evervescent sky and water, you never want to leave. My home is open to visitors and over the next year is supposed to get bigger with the new addition. I would love to share this with you, maybe even a couple new fishing spots if you're nice! Blessings, signed, Northern Exposed, Jeff.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Just got back from fishing with my friend Dan---took us awhile to get there as there as we were stopped on the road by two deer that came up to our window---expecting to be fed I suppose, but we didn't have an apple or corn and they sauntered away. Got to the river and stepped in some bear poop and slipped down the hill a bit---but no serious injury. Didn't catch any brookies in two spots---despite them just planting some this week---but we really didn't care---it was another beautiful day in the U.P., sunny, warm, being with nature. Yesterday we went out and helped plant sunfish in two small lakes with the Club Crew---what a blast---carrying buckets of fish into the lakes and making sure there weren't any cormoronts around---wow can sunfish swim fast! This follows a magnificent weekend on Mackinac Island, attending Megan and Eddie's wedding---taught my son how to take in the moment---as we stood waiting for the ceremony---taking in the beautiful Straits of Mackinac and the folks all dressed up and the flowers---etc. He asked me when it was going to start---that he was bored---and I said he had to learn to stand there, step back, look, feel, take it in. It was a magic moment, and I think he finally understood. You should know that Dan and I fired the 44 Sunday---and he hit the center of a pie plate with a nice cluster 5/6 rounds. I on the other hand, just hit the wood that the target was posted on 1/6 times. I really need those lessons!!! In addition, he caught the only pike the other day on Pullup Lake---despite me having 6 hits. I'm really loosing my touch. Anyway, this is without a doubt the finest place on earth and all that we expected it to be. Sorry I have to be quick here---about to have Erica's whitefish tacos with fish just caught out of the lake today. Will try to post some new pics, etc. soon. Thanks!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
First day of actual work today wasn't work, it was fun. The staff here is amazing, from the front office to the Nurse Practictioner, Lab Techs, and of course, the mainline, the Nurses. Wow, I am amazed at the quality and dedication of the folks up here. They love the people, the land and water, and are dedicated to stay as long as it takes. They made my first actual working day smooth and again, FUN!!! I know it's early, but I've been feeling the same excitement inside about family medicine that I felt as a third year medical student---like I can't wait to go back to work the next day!!!! YAY!!!!
The U.P. once again yielded a beautiful day. I got home from work about 5 p.m.---that's after finishing up charts, stopping at the corner grocery to chat with the owner about where he gets his incredible steaks---then driving the 25 minutes back to Naubinway. Once reaching the NOOK I visualized Lake Michigan looking like GLASS. Thus, I waded thru the tools and boxes and after maneuvering the kayaks around, was able to pull out my Old, Old Town, very scratched up Kayak and get in launched. I was very happy to be at sea again, going out past the "big rock". Fortunately, it is only partially exposed this year---the water level is up much higher than last year at this time---very encouraging. I made it about a third of the way to the Naubinway Lighthouse when I realized my shoulder muscles were burning---reminding me that I just moved a serious amount of tools and boxes and probably shouldn't try going further. Although I did have on my thick wet suit---judgement was the better part of valor today. Then I went out and raked up some pine cones, cleaned up more boxes and am about to cook dinner. Behold, it's only 7:30 p.m. and all that is done---what a good life this is. Thanks for checking in. Wildlife seen: One very large buck today---darted accross the road in front of me, fortunately he was wise enough to be out very far in front of me. Fishing done: None, still have to get my license! God Bless.
The U.P. once again yielded a beautiful day. I got home from work about 5 p.m.---that's after finishing up charts, stopping at the corner grocery to chat with the owner about where he gets his incredible steaks---then driving the 25 minutes back to Naubinway. Once reaching the NOOK I visualized Lake Michigan looking like GLASS. Thus, I waded thru the tools and boxes and after maneuvering the kayaks around, was able to pull out my Old, Old Town, very scratched up Kayak and get in launched. I was very happy to be at sea again, going out past the "big rock". Fortunately, it is only partially exposed this year---the water level is up much higher than last year at this time---very encouraging. I made it about a third of the way to the Naubinway Lighthouse when I realized my shoulder muscles were burning---reminding me that I just moved a serious amount of tools and boxes and probably shouldn't try going further. Although I did have on my thick wet suit---judgement was the better part of valor today. Then I went out and raked up some pine cones, cleaned up more boxes and am about to cook dinner. Behold, it's only 7:30 p.m. and all that is done---what a good life this is. Thanks for checking in. Wildlife seen: One very large buck today---darted accross the road in front of me, fortunately he was wise enough to be out very far in front of me. Fishing done: None, still have to get my license! God Bless.
The time has come, I arrived in da U.P. on Saturday afternoon with a 17 foot U-Haul full of my doctor books, tools, clothes, furniture and SIXTEEN boxes of family scrapbooks. My wife has been busy over the years documenting our Children's progress! The memories are safe, still in their boxes, in my living room. The U.P. was kind to me in providing a beautiful sunny day on Sunday, so I could unload. During the trip up here I continually wondered how I was going to get the 500 pound plus table saw off the U-Haul alone, even with the dolly, I was contemplating a controlled crash doing it alone. Our good friends Dave and Julie from Findlay helped us get it all loaded. Ahh, but God is good, my friend Captain Jim from Hessel just happened to be in the area and was wondering if I arrived yet. Sure! Come on by I said. Jim and his wife Cindy came over and helped me unload. That's hospitality for you! Thanks Jim and Cindi!!! Yesterday was a whirlwind of visits to various departments and clinics at the Hospital getting oriented. As you would expect, people were warm and welcoming and wishing for and will be working for my success. Particularly charming to me was the visit to the clinic just up the road in Engadine---talk about a nice staff and quaint office. The office is in a little white house accross from the auto parts store and just down from the hardware. I start there Wednesday. Today I am in the clinic in Curtis--near Big Manistique Lake---that is just a temporary assignment while the usual doc is on vacation. Hope to take the kayak out tonight for the first time after work. Wildlife seen---Loons out front, one coyote. Fishing done: None, trying to get my Michigan driver's license so I can pay in-state fees! Shooting done---9 rounds fired to date from the Smith and Wesson 44---incredible power yet the quality gives you a little sense of control! Awesome, thanks guys!
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