Tag Archives: lake

Family Fun Project Style

The stated purpose of our trip to the cabin this weekend was a simple one- power wash the house. This was in preparation of a project to line the house with stone this summer, which sounds like a pretty fun way to spend some Saturdays and Sundays. 

I was skeptical, but I kept that to myself, no need to confirm Mrs S’s opinions about my negativity. She recently made the following remarkable statement about me and projects; “you always say no”. 

To me she said this. Hah.. Sometimes she says “no” to but rather than say any thing.. sometimes it’s the pitches you lay off that define you as a ball player. That’s all I’m say’n.

The Fates were against this project from the beginning, and they went out of their way to tell me so, and her so, but she’s was determined and I was determined to do what ever it was that she was determined to do so we peservered in our march to folly. In the end we accomplished nothing, well we do have a nicely power washed deck, patio furniture and cheese slicer. 

The days events started promptly at 8:00. Watching the news I learned that we would be enjoying a cold by sunny day. 

We can do this, even at 52 degrees. Mrs S suggested that we go to the hardware store, rent the machine, bring it back and then get the kiddos up for breakfast. Since the hardware store and the breakfast place are both in Amery, about 15 miles each way.. I kinda felt like we should roust their lazy asses, make them come with us to Amery NOW, get the maching, have breakfast, and then comeback. Saving a 30 mile round trip that we would be making at least twice anyway. 

So we did. At the hardware store we learned that the machine they had was 2500 PSI. About 1/2 what she wanted. The fellow explained to her, as I had… although not because I knew, but because someone else had told me, that at 5000 PSI we could blow a hole through our cement wall. “we’ll be careful” was her reply. “For the first time ever” was my under breath reply which apparently I said a tish louder than I thought, based on the death stare. 

We also learned that that particular hardware store, as only open until noon and was not open on Sunday,

This actually meant that  we would have to get our work done before 11:00 to get it back in time which meant that we would not have time to get pancakes at Ida Mae’s Cafe which caused to be to do something I rarely do.. put my foot down. “Project or not, I am having pancakes, who is with me?” Always interesting when you make you children choose parental allegiances, even more so when they’re adults. Red and Daughter were in on the pancakes, giving me the majority I needed not to have to worry about getting left behind in Amery. 

Besides I noted, there is the other hardware store. “They don’t have this stuff” she exclaimed in a way that was reminiscent of “NO”. “My precious turtle dove” i exclaimed, ‘Lets go try ’cause we’re here.” We did, and guess what, they did. And guess what again, they’re open to 5:00 AND they’re open on Sunday. In some ways I was right. 

Let me remind you that it was cold on Saturday, about 40 degrees. It was also windy, like whitecap windy out on the lake. This was going suck and the fellow at the hardware store told us so. “You really want to do this today?” Personally the day has yet to come where I would “want” to do this, but since we’re “going” to do this, today is as good as any other. “Mothers Day present”. Ok…

He walked us to show us how to use the thing, “you know, you may have trouble starting this machine, they don’t run well below about 60 degrees. 

We loaded the thing into the Durango and off Ida Mae’s Cafe we went. 

Ida Mae’s is a new-to-us place in Amery that has become my GO TO spot on the local breakfast scene, the food is delicious and ridiculously inexpensive. They were packed, and as a result were slow. However as opposed to the horrible service we had the night before at a taco joint, at Ida Mae’s the owner was constantly coming back to tell us that their grill was full and thanked us for our patience offering coffee and juice. We decided the longer we sat in there waiting the warmer it was getting outside so no big deal. Besides the food would be worth it. 

It also gave us some family time free from the distractions of electronics, save the occasional text message. Funny the conversations we have these days. Some way some how we got onto the topic of geometry, that noblest of sciences. One kid was asking another about some sort of special triangle and the other was describing various forms of the same and I weighed in, since geometry was my favorite math course and was also the point at which I realized that a career in mathematics was something I should avoid given my learning disability. A disablity ironically I discovered and self-diagnoesed exactly one math class later, calculus. Discovered in once in college and again in my feeble attempt to to return to college for an MBA. In the words of Barbie, “Math is hard”, and I’m afraid of it. 

And here’s a great example of why, I do know my triangles, I can pick a triangle out of a population of shapes any day. So as the kids were talking about 90:45:45 degree triangles I mentioned what about a 33:33:33 degree triangle? You know the old equilateral thing?

Silence, followed by snickers, the red head looked away.. shamed,  the daughter looked up at me and said in a way that sounded hurtful, “What?” For the moment I didn’t realize my mistake. The oldest gently pointed out that what I had described was impossible.. and something about 90 and 180 became clear to me and I realized my error. I looked at my wife for support “You got yourself into this one Dude.. I don’t talk about this stuff with them.” 

All I could come back with was I knew who Euclid was and I knew about this 47th problem. All though I could only describe it as a bunch of squares merging in someway that makes it look like a cool pin which you could buy at a Masonic store they dove into Pythagorean theory and blah blah. Subject changed to storm water management. The local hospital in Amery recently had some landscaping done that would effectively manage storm water and run off, the oldest kid is interested in getting an internship with the firm that did the engineering for the project. I asked about the storm run off in our back yard that annually moves all of our mulch form our upstream flowerbeds to the storm drain at the lowest spot on our property. “What can you do about that” I asked. 

“Nothing”. Which is the very answer I’d been giving to Mrs S these last several years as she’s been trying to mitigate flow with everything short of a cement dam. Good thing breakfast started rolling in ’cause being right twice in one day.. to much. 

Two hours killed getting breakfast, plus the hardware stores.. we were off to late start. 

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After breakfast we started heading home. By now the wind was blowing so hard the car was difficult to control. Passing over the Apple River the water looked downright angry, it was a dark almost black color with long trails of foam from the white caps, which were quickly progressing to full on rollers. 

Que OMEN. 

As we continued the drive the north the weather go worse.. clouds were rolling in, started sprinkling… 

We unloaded the machine, hooked up the water and just like that.. out of nowhere, combination rain storm, sleet, blizzard.. literally every sort of known precipitation came falling out of the sky at the same time. Except hail, not hail. No brimstone either. But everything else.  

I was out. Kid however, he kept at it. We learned that you can not power wash paint off cement at 2500 PSI. 

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Crapski. We failed. 

An so the wall project moves to Plan B- latticing. Something about chicken wire and molly bolts.

I’m sure it’s going to be interesting. 

In footnote, while he was working out side, I spent my time inside, cleaning out some cupboards that have been on my list to clean out since 1999. When we bought the place we bought it with everything in it. The place was loaded with old glasses, plates, odd appliances, time to get rid of it. I found three boxes worth of crap, some of which might have some value. All of it was odd. More later. Among the oddities, a small marble cheese guillotine of some sort with a weird mold on it. Powerwashed it looked brand new. 

 

 

 

 

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Weekend Update- Friends, Football, Fall and Barflies.

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One of those weekends where we attempted to pack in as much as we could. And where I learned for the umpteenth time that moving past inertia can be a good thing. Mrs S made arrangements for us to go have dinner at friends house on Friday night, a lovely couple whom we don’t seen enough of these days. My first reaction, a very loaded “yes dear”. Loaded because I delivered in the most passive aggressive way possible. Not that I don’t like these folks, it’s just it’s Friday, I’m tired, I wanted to do nothing, and I had to be up early in Saturday, blah blah blah.

But I went, because she made me and other than a few yawns, I behaved and had such a wonderful time that I left asking her why we don’t do that more often. “I told you you’d enjoy yourself once we got there dear” I said to her. Good to keep them on their toes.

Saturday morning was a chance to preside over a Master Mason degree.  Another thing that feels like a lot of work until I do it and am rewarded  by the experience. I do love doing the degree work.

I got home from that even at about 1:00, exactly my forecasted time, to find the family ready to go to the lake. “You read Sank”, my slow response and lack of enthusiasm belayed to Mrs S that yet again my passive aggressive “I don’t wanna go” side was coming out. I was tired. I’d been up at 5:30, I hadn’t eaten all day, It’s cold, I wanna watch football, I have a hangnail, blah blah blah.

IMG_1072This is the time of year when I find myself starting to talk myself out of going to the lake. This year I had said it would be different, I like going up there, lets just go and worry about the consequences when we get there. So we did. And once again I was proven wrong. I’m always happier at the lake it seems, even when it’s 48 degrees in the afternoon in the middle of September. My daughter brought a friend with her and the four us spent the afternoon wandering down our road. Rather than think about it as cold windy day I framed it up as a gorgeous fall afternoon, crisp, colors just starting to turn and I was hanging out with the family in the woods. Doesn’t get a whole lot better than that to be honest.

Saturday night we headed over the local tavern, the Eagle Lounge the closest venue where ESPN is available. Goal to watch the Auburn LSU game. Eric had let us know Friday that he had secured a ticket in the student section and was going to the game. I told him to bring a towel to cry into as I expected that it would be ugly. We arrived at the War Eagle Lounge early to make sure we got the big screen, Minnesota had a night game as well and I was pretty sure we’d have to compete for the TV.

The game was much better than I thought it would be, Auburn’s defense was certainly looking good, even if the offense was not. As predicted the Gophers fans started rolling in and the poor barmaid had to keep answering the questions “Why are we watching this game?”, she pointed to us. “Hello”.

I did get a chance to meet some of my neighbors, explained about 10 times our connection to Auburn, answered the question “where is Auburn”.

I have the most interesting conversation with a barfly, whom I assume had had too much to drink as there is no other explanation other than perhaps a couple that he wouldn’t want hear-

“Why we watching LSU and Auburn?”
“I have son a Auburn.”
“Oh my sister and her husband live down Baton Rouge, they got LSU Football and nuth’n else. Where is Auburn?”
”It’s in Alabama.”
“Oh yeah.. LSU, is that in Alabama also?”

No answer to that question that doesn’t lead my getting my ass kicked, other than, “no I think it’s in Louisiana”.

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Blake Lake Report- Aug 19

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Where the hell did summer go? I know I’m old and that’s clique but this one really got away from me.

And while I’m at, “Get off my fucking lawn” and “200 feet the shore is NO WAKE asswipe”.

Got those of my old fat guy chest.

Made it back up after a three week hiatus. Last time I was up there was for a “guys” weekend.

Mrs S had a few observations. “Thought you said you cleaned the place” was how the conversation started. I’ve been married long enough and seen enough Law & Order to know the difference between a legitimate question and a trap set by a DA. I answer with very confident “huh”?

Best to keep the options open when being interrogated by the opposite sex. I don’t always know where the conversation is going, if you know what I mean.

But the circumstantial evidence was stacked against me.

- Bedroom window left wide open.

- Coffee in the coffee maker, with an interesting fuzzy white top.

- Beer can left on the soap shelf in the shower. I don’t anything about that except to say… never mind I have no answer.

- Night vision goggles on the table. Not so much messy thing but she was wondering A) Where they came from and B) what do 5 guys in their mid to late 40’s do with night vision goggles.

- 5 empty CO2 cartridges on the deck and an empty can of pellets.

- A receipt from the local store for bottles of Jim Beam and Tanqueray. A second receipt from the same store, three hours later for another bottle of Tanqueray, a pack of Marlboroughs, a pack of Winston’s, 5 Hershey bars and tub of wax worms. When I run into the guys who were here we’re gonna have to have a little conversation about receipts and evidence. Amateurs.

“Was not me, we had a few smokers over and there’s still some Tangueray, how’bout I fix you a G&T my precious luv dove.” “Shez Sank, only missing was midget wrestling and a newly dug grave”. Obviously she didn’t get over behind the garage.

This is why I could never commit a crime, I don’t know how to destroy evidence so well.

So that’s how the weekend started, yours truly in the dock getting prosecuted. And when I get prosecuted by my spouse I’ll freely admit that always more about damage control and containment as I am, in almost all cases guilty of something. This was no exception.

Moving on.

This was the last weekend that the oldest would be at the lake until next summer, unless we make a winter trip. And the possibility of that isn’t very good as he’s not home all that long in the winter, so this was it. He didn’t make it up there very much this summer either due to the field work he was doing on the Upper Peninsula for school. Field work mapping places that have been mapped by thousands of geo students before them and an added surprise project as all available geology, engineering students and professors still in town over the summer were summoned to help out when a bulldozer fell into giant sinkhole while digging out the foundation for the new Mineral Museum.

Michigan Tech is a building a new facility to house the Michigan State Mineralogical Museum. Basically it’s the state rock collection. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a damned fine collection and should you find yourself in Houghton Michigan for some reason it’s definitely worth a stop. Of course Houghton Michigan is just about as remote a place as you get and still have running water and WIFI so I’m not sure any of you dear readers will get there, but should you, you should go.

I digress.

It seems that in the digging of the foundation the crew discovered a stope that that been lost to the world for last 100 years or so. Frankly you can’t hardly dig a hole around Keweenaw Peninsula and not hit a shaft or a stope. Apparently about half the foundation is over mine fill, tailings and abandoned equipment the other half empty stope.

Stoping is the removal of the wanted ore from an underground mine leaving behind an open space known as a stope.[1] Stoping is used when the country rock is sufficiently strong not to cave into the stope, although in most cases artificial support is also provided. As mining progresses the stope is often backfilled with tailings, or when needed for strength, a mixture of tailings and cement.

Personal note you learn more reading this blog, you can all thank me for a new vocabulary word, you’re quite welcome.

The stope and the tunnels to access it that had to be found and plotted and all that sort of thing. And a plan had to be developed to figure out what to do about it to make the foundation for the new building stable and on and on. The lad got so spend a day or two surveying and interpreting ground penetrating radar, while other kids poured over historical mine surveys and plans to try to figure out what they had and where it went. Turns out it was part a system of tunnels that were used to transport ore from the mine down to the shore of Potage Lake where stamp mills once pulverized the ore to extract copper or whatever it was the were looking for. Today there’s a neighborhood down on the lake built on the acres and acres of lake that was filled in by the fine sand that was the result of this operation.

Or so I’m told.

Lookit that, more general knowledge for you people, my gift to you!

Lost in my own mind again.

Sum up- kid hasn’t been up here much this summer. Twice actually. Now that he’s 21 it would have been really hand to have him up here. Certain errands can only be asked of persons 21 and older and since asking Mrs S to make a run to the booze outlet at 11:15 am, well at almost any time, rarely works out the way I’d like it too, it’s nice to have a kid to do it.

We spend some time on the water, the two of us, fishing away the last weekend before he departed for British Columbia for a few months. Fishing was slow, but in some ways I enjoy it. I like the problem solving of trying to figure out what the bass are doing and what techniques will work to catch them. Took an hour or so, but we found fish, they were deep and in a negative mood which means they were not really biting. So slower presentations, patience and getting in the right place meant we were able to land a dozen or so decent fish over the two days. But you sure had to work for them.

P1000254And the work did pay off, I got a 23” bass that came in at just over 7lbs, shattering my personal Blake Lake and lifetime records. That was pretty exciting.

State Fair starts on Thursday this week, which means the traditional summer time vacation stuff is coming to fast end. Sad. Every time the State Fair gets going I’m a struck with a little melancholy as I realize that we got a lot less 80 degree days left in the year than we do 20 degree days.

But I like 20 too, in its season. And that’s certainly coming.

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Weekend Update

Belated weekend update-

We attempted to squeeze a lot of crap into one weekend.

Friday night- Attended the 1st half of the Apple Valley Football Game. I’m always come away from those games feeling  good about living in Apple Valley, a very rare feeling for me.. Something about the local angle on Friday Night under the lights. My wife and I went to watch the dance team and marching band. It’s been a couple years since we’ve known any kids who played football, but we have at least 5 more years of the other dance and band, including our own daughter who we think might attend these games. Middle kid was there, hanging out in the student section, he was blessed with 2 hours of reprieve from his horrible cold he caught last week.

And passed to me as of today.

Went to the lake- At the end of the half with our lads down 38 to nothing we piled in the car and headed to the lake. Departure time, 8:50. We arrived at the cabin around 10:30, none the worse for the wear and we even managed to include the obligatory McDonalds double stop.

A double stop, what’s that? A McKeyD double stop is where we do that thing where I order an ice tea, and the dude asks me if I want sweet tea and I say no, I want unsweetened tea, and I say “don’t screw it up like you guys always do” and I pull to the window, and I get my tea and I start to drive away, taste it and it’s sweet tea and I pull back into the lot and go in and tell them “this is sweet tea, it’s supposed to unsweetened tea” and the dudes behind the counter look at each other and make a face like “that’s impossible” and then they taste it and start blaming each other and I have to ask nicely if they can just get me my tea so I can go and they say yes but nobody actually goes to the cup dispenser to get me a tea and thus explained how a lack of attention started this mess to begin with.

Arrived at the lake in record time on secret roads in the dark having traveled through the deepest darkest parts of rural Wisconsin. Adam Carolla playing in the back ground. Negotiated with Mrs S, if I’m driving, it’s going to be a pottyhumorfest and hell with the kids.

Little TV and soothing adult beverage and off to bed. BTW, fall at the cabin, great time to be there. What we give up in nice weather and screen door slams, bevies on the deck we make up for with crisp nights, campfires, fall colors and what had to be the most beautiful sky I think I’d ever seen. No moon, Milky Way so close you could touch it, so many constellations they ran into each other. It was so dark that even the star light could be seen on the lake. I love that. This time of year there aren’t many folks up there and it is, literally so dark, that the horizon is almost indiscernible.. amazing.

Café Wren Met the team from Reading Blog/Little Blake Lake for coffee and rolls at the Wren at 8:00 on Saturday am.  At 10:30 the grass had dried out enough that I could get the mower going and spent an  hour mowing the lawn. Finished the lawn, cleaned up inside and boom.. in the car and the road by Noon. Quick trip eh?

Stopped at McDonalds in New Richmond for the usual ice tea thing.. funny how in Wisconsin they never get this wrong, only in Minnesota.

House Cleaning Saturday afternoon we cleaned house a bit, mailed off some letters, went to the Leanne Chin for kids dinner. Kudo’s to the staff at the Apple Valley Leanne Chin for honoring the coupon that I got at the football game on Friday night, despite the fact that I didn’t have it on my person. I described well enough that they let me have it. Great customer service.

Saturday night dinner at Café Maude. Already reported on that.

Sunday Football- took the girl to the Vikings game on Sunday. Disappointing? For sure. Apparently no lead is big enough for this team. However, I love a Vikings game, win or lose, we had great seats and the crowd was into it, the venue was deafening and the game was a thriller, not the right outcome, frustrating, but good.

Losing the Vikings would be a stab in the heart for me personally. Mostly because it would be the second time in my life I’ve had to endure the loss of a beloved team.. I’m just now getting over the Raiders moving to LA when I was a kid and could not longer go to games with the Old Man. Lots of memories of my black and silver jacket, Raiders knit hat, I’d hate to have that happen again.

Sunday Dinner- Tilapia with homemade pineapple, pear and chili chutney. I don’t care for tilapia, but this was pretty decent, how could it not be with the chutney, wild rice and acorn squash with cinnamon.

After a long weekend sleep and just like that it was Monday morning.

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The Apple Tax

The weekend update is coming a tad early this week. Well, I don’t know when you’re actually going to read this as I’m up at the lake, and I’ve lost my internet connection up here. Seems that when I bought my new phone, Verizon didn’t care to include the wireless hotspot I’ve enjoyed with my last phone, with new one. I can still get it, but now it costs me $20.00 a month for it. Which sucks. Lemmie translate for you my conversation with my friends at Verizon.

“Thank you for calling Verizon, Can ya hear me now?”

“yes I can thank you. I have recently purchased a new phone and was wondering how I accessed the Mobile Hot Spot feature on my phone?”

“let me look you up”… Pause…. Pause…. “Ah mr Shnakcari, I see that you recently upgraded from a Palm Pre to an iPhone is that true?”

“It is indeed. I went large on the phone this time, Ma’am”

“Well Mr. Snackarai with your new phone there is a $20.00 monthly fee for hotspot access.”

WTF. “Gollie, I was told by the nice lady at that I’d have the same exact access as I did on my old phone”

“well Mr Snackarakski, you do have the same access”

“but it’s twenty bucks more ma’am. I thought it would be the same.”

“It is the same”

“$240 a year is not what I would call the same”

“I’m sorry Mr. Sank-a-ray’,

“Just call me ‘valued customer if you would’”

“Ok VC. Since you bought the iPhone we can charge you extra for stuff?”

“why?”

“because you want the iPhone, no one wants the pre”

Hmm, I had to think about that one. As I was uh.. doodling “bitch” on my note pad.

 

Sympathy

There is none. Nada. No one gives a shit about fat old white guy complaining about the data plan on his overpriced Apple iPhone from the world leader in nickel and dimeing customers. I’ve heard of the Apple Tax, that extra 30-50% you pay to use Apple products. Actually, I’ve come around now and I’ll gladly pay it, the stuff just works. I haven’t had to think about and G-d Damned driver in over a year. Haven’t had a f’n crash in a year and half.

I resent that I have to deal with it from Verizon.

 

 

“Valued Customer, you ordered the white iPhone didn’t you?”

“yeah”

“Technically we could charge you another $10.00 just because you have the hottest phone on the planet”

Good G-d, I haven’t felt like this since my trip to the Doctor last week.

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Blake Lake Report- Remarkable Day

Sometimes is the simple things that all come together which make a day remarkable, Saturday was one of those days.

After the last couple weekends at the lake I spent the week fantasizing about getting back up to the cabin for some reason. Mrs S, the daughter and Red were leaving on Sunday so I had to secure a pass to be cleared to see them off on Friday night instead of being there for them Sunday morning to see them off.

The plan was to come to the lake on Friday night, after work. We did. We also managed to stop and pick up a canoe I’d loaned out a few years ago. I’ve been wanting to bring it to the lake for a while, now seemed as good a time as any. Driving the 60 miles from St. Paul to Blake lake with a canoe on the roof of the car, especially when the canoe is moving a bit, just a bit mind you, was a bit uncomfortable. It didn’t move a lot, but enough to give me a little personal “movement” with every canoe movement that happened.

After a couple stops we’d used more rope, bungee and ratchet straps on the canoe than you would have thought was possible. Overkill? You bet. Peace of mind, not perfect, but better, and after after a few dozen miles I let it go. Good news is, we arrived intact.

After an uneventful Friday night, Saturday dawned bright and early. Arising at my usual 5:30 I headed down stairs to make coffee. A friend was coming over to meet me to go fishing at 6:00, least I could do was have coffee ready for him. I had told him, if you wake up and it’s raining, call first. No sense in making the trip if there was a big storm or something that would put the fish off the bite.

Saturday morning, between about 4:00 am and 7:00, it was exactly that, lots of lightning and thunder, and heavy heavy rain. If my cell phone charger was working I would have called him, as it were I could barely manage to get out a text. “P O U R I N G H E R E”. He responded by driving into my driveway.

And though the day was clearly off to an auspicious start, it would turn out to be a lesson in “do it”. While lesser men would have just cancelled, we persevered, honestly it would have been stupid not to. The raid stopped and the sky settled down. I explained to my friend that with all the lightning and rain and fronts and “well we would be lucky to catch a fish or two.” He’d driven a long way and my wimpiness wasn’t going to change his mind. “Lets hit the water anyway” he said, and uh.. we did.

Rolling up on my favorite spot on the lake, the “rock pile” I tied on crayfish colored crank bait and tied him up with Carolina rigged worm. I looked down to check the depthfinder, looked on shore to be sure I was lined up with my markers, in this case a flagpole on one shore and a certain boat house across the lake on the other. According to my calculations I should cast away from the near shore and towards the boathouse, the lure would bounce along a narrow ridge of rock that I knew from experience ran underneath us.

First cast; fish, and a decent one. Second cast; another fish. Third cast; nailed another one. We were on a hot bite it seemed. By about the fifth fish my friend asked if he could switch baits, no problem. An hour and half later we’d caught and released 20 fish, and we’d had a rare encounter with a muskie. As is typical, I wasn’t paying attention, matter of fact I was joking about the Swamp People show, fishing for alligators, looked down and “OMG there’s a gator now” as a giant fish with a toothy maw trailed behind my lure. Muskie follow- one of the more annoying habits of those fish.

We moved around a few times, continued to catch fish until about 9:30 or so when the sun cam out and, just like a switch, the bite turned off.

We spent the rest of the morning hanging out, playing with dogs, doing a whole lotta nuth’n. Speaking of dogs, my friend brought his three dogs with him for the day. He’s the only person I know with three Great Danes. Good news is these dogs are fantastic. Bad news is my little shit dog spent the day hiding behind chairs and sulking around in fear. I suppose it would be intimidating if three 800 pound 18 foot tall people came visiting my home.

Later in the afternoon we out fishing again, this time with my oldest kid, mission- catch dinner.

We spent about an hour out on the lake fishing and were lucky enough to fill the livewell with a meal full of decent sunfish and crappie. Back at the house I filleted the fish and we were able to enjoy a fantastic fish fry. Nothing better than fresh sunfish.

Evening was a very peaceful pontoon ride around the lake. We got back to the dock around 9:15 and sat around the table listening to a loon calling out on the lake, it was awesome.

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4th of July Reports- Day 1- Storm Front and Sunshine

Another Fourth of July has come and gone. After Thanksgiving, the 4th is my favorite holiday, falls in the middle of summer, there’s cabin time, lake time, fireworks, friends, booze, cookouts. What could possible be bad about it?

The short answer is nothing.

The boys and I arrived at the lake late Thursday night. Thursday was about 100 degrees. Mrs S and I had attended a funeral in Mankato that day and I have to tell you.. as they say around here, “she was a warm one”.  It was kinda of a nasty night for sleeping in a house with no air conditioning. I had the fan blowing on me all night long which meant I woke to stuffed sinuses and dry eyes. And, based on the sheets and blankies bunched up around my feet, it was a toss and turn night. No let me rephrase, it was oppressive. But, we had company a-coming and work to do. On Friday, after a breakfast at the Wren with a blog reader and Facebook friend from the area who I’d never met, the boys and I started running our errands.

New sparkplugs for the pontoon, a trip to the grocery store, and we were home. By 10:00 it was about 95 degrees and humid as could be.  Among the chores on the list, continuing the demolition of the old chimney. I made the boys pound on the rocks while I sang “I Fought The Law” in the background. Seemed like the right thing to do.

Friday night we headed over to the Thirsty Otter for the Friday night fish fry. The food was pretty good, service terrible. After waiting an hour for food and another half hour for our check I started have serious doubts that I had given us enough time to eat and get back. I would have thought two and a half hours were enough.

As we started to leave there was clearly change in the weather coming. There was a very dramatic cloud formation that marked exactly where the front was and when it passed over us, the temperatures went from 100 degrees and calm to 70 degrees and high winds in about a minute. This was the same storm that killed a camper in the county just north of us when a tree fell on her tent.

The change in the weather however, was quite welcome, as the say, good sleeping weather. As a matter of fact it brought spectacular weather for the entire 4th of the July weekend.

Saturday the partying started in earnest around the lake. Jet skis, more jet skis, ski boats, and jet skis. I didn’t even bother to put the fishing boat in the water over the weekend as the lake was getting constantly tore up all weekend. Our goal Saturday, get the pontoon up and running.

This is the new to us pontoon. The boat decided, just like that, not to start. It decided that when Nate and I were out on the lake trying to catch some panfish for a fish fry on Saturday night. It’s always fun to learn that your boat isn’t going to start when you’re bobbing out in the middle of the lake. Nothing like being towed back to the dock by a good Samaritan to kick off the weekend with a positive start.

New sparkplugs, new battery, new attitude and a bottle of sea foam and the old girl decided to come around. Good thing too as Mrs S was a little grumpy about missing the pontoon parade for the second year in a row due to a dead boat, especially since she’d never even been out on this boat yet.

By noon the boat was running, the decorations were up, the coolers were stocked with beer and ice and the Team was up and running in celebration mode. Dinner Saturday night was salmon on the grill with a dill and leek butter sauce that I thought was one of the very best presentations of salmon I’d ever made or tasted. Saturday night was campfire and hanging out.

I had planned on playing a little guitar but an unfortunate incident while cutting tomatoes kept me from entertaining. The ironic thing is as I was cutting I started thinking about how much better I’ve become at cutting food, about the time my thoughts articulated “haven’t sliced a finger open in a long time” I felt that knife through finger meat feeling that said “deep one”. You know the kind, the kind that don’t hurt until you look at your bloody finger and realize what happened.

So, for the rest of the weekend I had the thing wrapped in the double bandaid. The flap that had been detached taped back the part that it came from, sort of a do it yourself skin graft. Well see if she takes.

Sunday.. the annual Boat Parade.

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Summer here, finally

 

We got a call Wednesday night from one of our neighbors in Wisconsin, she was wondering about me. Mostly if I was still alive or had something happened to me over the winter.

That’s probably a good clue that I should try to get up to the lake soon. Here we are, middle of June and with the exception of one 15 minute stop there in April, I haven’t been to the lake place since January 15. That would the description of an underutilized a resource. It’s so bad that I’ve had to pay a guy to do the mowing just so the place looks lived in.

This weekend that all changes. The third annual Father Daughter fishing weekend. This is one of the summer’s highlights. Good buddy of mine from Stillwater and his daugther will be joining us up there, sad to say one of the father daughter couples dropped out again this year, shame as he was fun to make fun of, and his daughter is one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever met.

I have a sense that as the kids get older there will be less time spent on the water fishing and more time playing cards, mixing beverages and comparing notes on nails and hair, but at least we’re doing all that stuff at the lake. Everything is better at the lake. Which makes me scratch my head and wonder why I’ve become so adept at talking myself out of going up there.

 

From the “Some Things Never Change” department-

Or maybe, “when does it get better?” department. Last night I noticed the street lights had come on, my signal to go to bed. I headed up to take a shower and hit the hay. Nighttime showering BTW, prescribed by the allergist, could be one of the greatest ideas she’s ever passed along to me.

Upstairs I went, shut the bathroom door, climbed in the steaming water… As I was reaching for my towel, oblivious to the world, door bursts open and the 17 year old is barges in “Do you know where my iPod is?”

Seriously? What happened to knocking. 15 minutes later, Mrs S is upstairs changing into her summer nighttime sleeping burka, when without a knock the 17 year old barges in like he had a warrant and announced “The timer went off so I took the banana bread out.” I think that’s what he said, it was hard to hear over MRs S’s screams.

She looked at me “I was hoping by the time they hit about 17 they would have figured out that they should not barge into their parents’ room when the door is closed”. Oh man was it hard to not say any of the 500 or so smart ass comments that came flooding to mind at that very moment..

But I didn’t. Instead I offered up my observation;“I’ve stopped hoping that anything around here will get “figured out” on its own. She shook her head in agreement and then remarked, prophetically, in “429 days we’ll be down to one.”

On the other hand, same kid put together our new gas grill yesterday, which makes him as we say “useful”. He’s also good for running errands. When he leaves for school next year we will in fact be down to one kid for a while, one kid with no drivers license which puts her in the category “less than useful”.

On the other hand, next summer the oldest will be 21 AND have a drivers license, which moves him in the category of Uber Useful. I may weep when he comes back from his first liquor store run for me. Be worth staying up late to see that.

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My Morning Coffee

Hard to compete with this view in the morning. Makes it easy to sip coffee and think about my next moves.

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Slipping into the weekend

Couple days off this week. I’m determined to resist the temptation to log into work email and see what’s going on. Every 10 minutes. I’m trying the approach that psychologists reserve for the chronic hoarders. Folks like the guy up the street from us. I used to get a peek into his house when the kids were to selling cookies or tickets for fundraisers, I would see paths through neat but massive piles of stuff; newspapers, magazines, marked boxes of crap.. literally his entire living room is piled within inches of the ceiling with artifacts. And I’m guessing, based on his back yard, that the rest of house looks the same.
Anyway, for a guy like that, the approach I’ve seen on TV is ask them to throw away one small piece of an item. Just one.. and then the next day.. another and after a few years you get down to the mummified remains of the wife no one had seen since the early nineties.
I’m the same way with email. Check it every couple minutes to see what’s going on, what’s happening at work, what I’m in trouble for now. When I’m not in constant contact, I whip up some dreadful scenario’s in my head as to what could be happening. The rational side tells me “when was the last time any of your doomsday scenario’s came true?” My psycho-sadistic side, the side usually in control BTW, tells me “look out Dude, the enemy is all around you.”
This weekend two days off, I’ve made a concerted effort to NOT check in. Did once, yesterday morning, and left it at that. I’ve been relaxing on the floor of my living room, curled in the fetal position, self soothing by rocking myself, getting up only to yell at kids and use my newly rejuvenated, fully functioning, downstairs bathroom that running like champ.
For now.

Mrs S is off setting up the oldest in his new pad in Michigan. That means I have the place to myself, minus two kids, one of whom is working.. the other of whom is socializing with 200 other little girls that live in our street, which leaves me home alone. To do.. what ever I want. I thought I’d clean up.. but cleaning house for me, the ultimate Catch 22. Mrs S and I are on very different pages when it comes to cleaning and saving stuff. For me cleaning up would be renting a dumpster and throwing away mountains of paper and camping shit and scout shit and everything that I’m not all that interested in. Saving, of course things that I am interested in, Guitars, electronics, comics, my 70′s porn collection.. Never throw your old porn, you’ll miss it when your old, styles change kids.
Speaking of porn.. and don’t actually come looking for my porn collection, it’s more virtual than actual, I don’t know where it is either.
Here’s a good no-win situation I enjoyed recently, related to porn.

Hanging out with several of Mrs S’s friends. As usual I’m the funny man.. head stooge, there’s three couples with us. Note that Mrs S is always a bit nervous when I’m with her and her friends, you just never know what Sank might say and more than once, it’s been embarrassing. Mrs S’s baseline for “embarrassment” being waaaay lower than mine.
So we’re hanging and talking and discussing the local landscape in Polk County and the conversation came to the little country market we have up the road. Mrs. S doesn’t really like going to this store, for several reason, among them; the long magazine rack with 100′s of titles, only two of which you’d put on your coffee table, assuming that your coffee table is not in a Frat House, the display of 3 packs of condoms at the check out. I mean my local big box has cards and candy at the check outs.. this place is more practical, and finally the DVD Rentals… nuff said.
As we’re laughing about the fact that there are few place on this planet where you can get a bottle of house brand Vodka, a bag of potato’s, can of hairspray, two stroke oil for the boat, a bag of minnows and the latest copy of Biggins magazine. And then, I interject the following comment “… and the guy that owns the place looks like Ron Jeremy.”
Silence.
Dead silence
I look around, everyone was staring at me now
“Who is Ron Jeremy?”
Oh shit.
Where do you go from here. Who is Ron Jeremy? None other than the 70′s porn star known for a particular self-pleasuring act that earned him the nickname “the Hedgehog” and not for his spiny back. They all wanted to know who he was. Apparently I over estimated Ron’s pop culture status. The guy published an autobiography a few years ago and has been a regular discussion topic on such mainstream shows as “The Howard Stern Show” and the “Adam Carolla Podcast”. I tried that route. “Howard Stern? Who’s that?”
There are now 7 people staring at me with concern.. 6 of them staring at Mrs S too, as in “what’s he talking about?”
So thanks to all those husbands and perhaps a few wives out there who were much better at pretending that they had never heard of Ron than I. But then again.. not like I cared.
Tools..


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