Postcards from the Lake: Summertime and the Living Is Easy

It's hard to believe it is August and that I've been pretty much isolated from the world as I used to know it since mid-March. My mask hangs around my neck daily with another in my purse, along with the surgical gloves I wear if I must go anywhere. Hand sanitizer is in the pocket or my purse. I'm almost out of my favorite soap but I have plenty of back-up with others equally nice.

Survival Prescription: Find a bench in a garden. Sit. Take it in. Repeat. Endlessly.

I don't watch as much news up here as at home but I still follow it carefully. I check facts regularly with several online sources, aghast at the volume of misinformation that is being spread by those who find the virus a hoax and the anti-Fauci conspiracy theories. 

Michigan is one of the states "doing better," thanks to our terrific governor, but it doesn't mean our people are any less stupid or selfish than anyplace else and it's likely she will be tightening some of the restrictions that had been eased up. Fortunately. I am afraid that for many, it will take someone close to them dying or being on a ventilator or knowing a healthcare worker in an area that is hard hit to realize this is real and to get over their "I won't wear a mask, it steps on my freedom" arrogance. Testing positive won't be enough for them. It will take something far more tragic and extreme.

Or, as Rick says, "America -- Live Free and Die." Rick has a good turn of phrase.  He was talking about the "United States of aMErica" three years ago and long before I saw it in any kind of political cartoon.

Lake hydrangea -- small blooms, not made better by Japanese Beetles. Not sure the variety.

Before I returned to the lake, I had doc appointments and asked them all their take on this and they said it is as real as it gets and will probably last a good year or more from now, especially the way the U.S. is treating it. That doesn't mean it won't be back after a year but by then there might be vaccines that are tested, FDA verified and reasonably effective -- if taken. Stats stats seem to indicate right now that these odds are around 50/50.  And it will only happen if people are still behaving. Hello, frat party, 50th anniversary and gala event.

Isolating at the lake hardly feels like isolating. It is my typical summer. But instead of having people stop by or inviting them in, we stay on the porch or outside. Bring your own food if you are coming to eat. Actually, I kind of like that -- it makes things much easier! The neighbors are on their deck and we're on the porch and can easily chat.

Days seem to have an even keel to them, a routine of sorts, that always starts with feeding Herself (Lizzie is very good about not waking the human but once my feet touch the floor she doesn't stop nagging till food is down). Then it's on to computer things and eventually breakfast. There is always time for reading and I've done a lot. On days when it is too windy paint to on the porch there might even be a bit more.

Lizzie would prefer we not put the ottoman back on the ground after the rain. She loves her high perch.

Most days include a walk or a swim. And my one excursion out is to the cherry lady who has those fabulous Traverse City/Michigan sweet black cherries, on which we gorge ourselves shamelessly.

We've had a lot of hard rain and wind this summer and the weeds are growing back on the beach. The water table is higher than usual and that's not helping matters. I sprayed them down with my horticultural vinegar when the wind eases, and in a few days after, pulling them out of the beach with my "claw" tool. Best garden tool ever. One of my two "good" neighbors is going to run his tractor through again to help pull up the roots after the vinegar takes hold.

Meanwhile, the "bad" neighbor has become more irritating, shooting off one of those flash cannons if he sees the geese come on the beach I have not once, in three years, seen them sit on. The cannon makes a super loud bang, worse than fireworks, and a big flash, sending the geese scattering. I know -- geese can make a terrible mess. But all it takes to move them along is to just walk out toward the beach and they fly off in a flurry.

The rains have brought interesting skies. I promise, the photo below did not have a filter on it. It's very odd, though.

When I see the rain start to move across the lake, I grab up the chair cushions and stack the ottoman to avoid it getting too wet. It's a fast moving game. The sunsets can be fabulous after or right before the storm or just so-so. I thought this one was interesting. It has nothing to do with the one above, a different evening entirely.

Rick has been here a lot this summer, which is great. With our new and more reliable internet, he can work from the cottage. We go home to tend things and then eagerly return. That means the house often smells like baking bread.

As the day closes, the moon begins to pop, even though the sky is still blue. We'll enjoy a game of Scrabble as we look at the beautiful sunsets, which vary in their intensity.

And watch the geese go by in twilight -- sometimes in a large pack, sometimes small.

I don't for a nanosecond forget that I am very lucky to be able to be here and every morning when I wake up, before I get out of bed, I thank my parents for having bought this place after my grandparents died. Sometimes it's a challenge to keep things up and handle taxes but it's worth it and this year, more than ever.

When all is said and done, this one always has something to say about it.

Me? I'll take the peace and quiet of a summer evening.

Those days and nights go by so fast.