Random bits of my so-called life.


September 22nd, 2018 by kayak woman

Oh man. I didn’t want to write about this today… I know better than to get into an internet pissing match, especially one on facebook of all places but I managed to put myself out there today via comments on a post a sweet, thoughtful adult nephew made that linked to an article about a woman who was “date”-raped many years ago and had struggled with the emotional trauma for many years after. Sound familiar?

I am not gonna describe the whole thing that happened today on facebook. It wasn’t pretty and it isn’t over because another (female) person has now asked me why I believe Dr. Ford over Kavanaugh and I am deciding whether I should reply or not. And if I do, what should I reply that won’t inflame things further?

I dunno what happened at that long ago party. Christine Ford says she had one beer. Kavanaugh and Judge were “stumbling drunk”. As goofy as I could get on the occasional beer I managed to get my hands on at the age of 15, I was NEVER drunk enough to not remember what happened in somebody’s bedroom at a party.

But then I didn’t attend mixed parties at that age. The only bedrooms I was ever in were my own and a few of my friends. No boys. No beer. I wasn’t very popular and I think one of the reasons I wasn’t, besides the fact that I was a nerdy introvert 🐽, was that people in my town perceived my family as being privileged. Definitely not privileged like the Kavanaughs apparently were. We lived in a northern outpost city nowhere near the wheeler-dealers of Washington DC but my dad and granddaddy were bankers and my uncle was one of the town’s doctors. I think people didn’t really want to get into the position of having to mess with my any of those people, so I was not inundated with party invites or boyfriends crawling in my bedroom window. I did have a couple of boyfriends. Kudos to Bad Boyfriend for being brave enough to call my house!

The thing is, I went to enough of those kinds of parties – eventually – (thanks to both my high school boyfriends) to know what the hell went on at those things. People got drunk (like Kavanaugh and his friend) and people screwed (or fought each other off) in various bedrooms. These were not isolated bedrooms in big fancy houses, like the Kavanaugh crowd probably had. Most parties I attended in Sault Ste. Siberia were in teensy tinesy shabby little houses where you didn’t want to take off your shoes for fear of what might be on the floor and you could hear everything that was going on from everywhere in the house, assuming anyone else was home.

This stuff happens. It happens all the time. Young girls who struggle with self-esteem often want to be accepted by the “in-crowd”, which often (but not always) translates to people who have the power that wealth provides. They accept invitations to parties, etc., from people that they don’t know very well because they think those people actually like them and then they are pressured into sexual acts. Or, as in the Ford/Kavanaugh case, they are just plain dragged into a bedroom.

Did he rape her? She says he did not. Did he ASSAULT her? She says he did. We don’t know what happened. Dragging someone into a bedroom and trying to pull their clothing off, etc., is an act of violence against another human being. That is not okay. He denies it. Is he a liar? We don’t know. If he is, that is not okay. I tend to believe her. I know what it’s like to be a woman.

It’s okay with me if Kavanaugh continues to live life as an “esteemed” judge or whatever but I do NOT want him on the Supreme Court!

Photo used with permission

September 21st, 2018 by kayak woman

The plan was to meet up for some fun porterization at Knight’s tonight. We even had a reservation. But then, Mouse texted her flight info and apologized for ruining our Friday night plans. Say what? I thought their flight was TOMORROW night! I’m not sure how I had gotten that idea but the flight was indeed tonight so I had to cancel my meetup of porterization.

Wouldn’t you know, I ended up at Knight’s *anyway*? We won’t discuss why I was waiting for Mouse at Arrivals and she was looking for me at Departures. Apparently this has happened before 🐽 In the end it was all cool and then the grandmother made an appearance. We were [finally] safely westbound on the I94 18-wheel Slogway heading back to the Planet and we were discussing restaurants and *she* suggested calling ahead to Knight’s to get on their list. OKAY! And so she did. She gave the name “Anne” for the reservation and when they repeated the info back to her, they had interpreted it as “Fran”, which is my mother’s name, aka Mouse’s grandmother. She corrected them but I’m thinking maybe we’ll start using “Fran” as our reservation name. The Commander did love Knight’s.

I think this week may have been one of the more interesting times to spend in North Carolina. I won’t detail Mouse’s trip except to say that when walking the beach yesterday, they encountered BIG BONES sticking out of the sand! Those big bones turned out to be whale bones. As it turned out, a whale had come too close to shore last November and was euthanized and buried right in front of the condo Mouse and friends were staying at. Here is one quick and dirty link, you can google more if you want.

Apparently Florence dredged the dead whale up again and this morning a backhoe came out to dig it up and re-bury it. I don’t usually post dead aminal pics on my blahg because I know some people don’t like to look at them but I’m not sure this one is all that gross in the grand scheme of things. I think that’s a rib in the pic but I could well be wrong. I think the biggest carcasses I have ever seen wash up on the moominbeach were a deer and a dog. We walked by the dog for weeks as it decomposed (I can still remember watching the blob that was what was left of its eye deteriorate as time went on) and finally disappeared, food for something, or maybe an adult beach community member finally got sick of looking at it and buried it somewhere. Just imagine trying to dig up a whale carcass and re-bury it.

Knight’s turned out to be a perfect place for my plane travelers to decompress with a round of ‘hattans and sandwiches and I have just gotten word that everyone is now safely home. 🧡🧡🧡

Not the best way to start the day

September 20th, 2018 by kayak woman

It was one of those mornings when a half hour or so before it was time to get up, I fell into a REM dream and overslept by 20 minutes or so. For unknown reasons, my clock radio currently makes a little “click” when the alarm goes off instead of saying things like, “President Trump fired James Comey yesterday” or whatever. Yes, I really did wake up to that sentence one morning back when my clock radio was still tuned to an NPR station and/or the volume was turned up to an audible level. I don’t usually need the clock radio to wake up but I didn’t do it on my own this morning.

This particular REM dream featured some horrible shoreline scenarios complete with a cameo appearance by the Dogwitch, someone who for reasons I can’t fathom, rarely haunts my dreams.

Anyway, this is the shoreline I dream about albeit not the best pic. There is approximately 2/3 of a mile of this. I have spent every summer (or parts thereof) on this shoreline my entire life. I can literally remember being about five months old, lying on the back seat of our old black Ford vee-hickle listening to the susurration of the pine trees as we turned onto Birch Point Road, which was then gravel. To me, that sound has always meant “we’re almost at the cabin”.

All of us who can call the moominbeach home have had the dream that a lake freighter comes on the wrong side of the island. I also have always had other, more complicated dreams. The scariest of all was the morning of 9-11 when I dreamed 9-11. Something with fire and planes and emergency vehicles was happening at the Doelle end of the beach and yes it was a prescient dream although I didn’t connect the dots until days later.

More often than not, my shoreline dreams are simply elaborate rearrangements of the terrain. Canals or islands or bays where there are no canals or islands or bays. Weird changes in water depth. Once an inland lake (Lake Ann it was, without the “e”, go figger), where there is only swamp and “we” were fighting a war there in my dream. When encroaching development began to threaten our previously isolated community, the dreams started to include houses and stores and concrete roads and sidewalks.

This morning’s iteration featured excavation equipment dredging a huge water reservoir (?) that stretched from the Doelle end of the beach to immediately east of Bill’s Birch Point Beach Bank Bench in front of the moomincabin. Someone was building their daughter a mansion. People were milling all over the place and I kept asking other residents why they had sold out. Other than me, no one seemed to care. “Oh, he’s building his daughter a house because he loves her.” Really?

I won’t talk about the screaming match I had with an aforementioned character but it attracted a lot of attention and my unglued behavior did not endear me to anyone. And then all of a sudden I was inside the *bank*, of all places (my childhood bank, where my dad and granddaddy worked), using the bathroom to apply some extremely complicated eye makeup that involved lake freighters. You do NOT wanna know!

And then, thank you jeebus, I woke up! It was late and there was a wee bit of lightning so I did not walk. Fortunately the day improved from there. We had a work function this afternoon of the social sort and I was dreading it. We are all nerdy introverts, can anyone say awkward? But it was okay. FZ and I found a seat and others joined us and a variable group of us ended up kibitzing for several hours. By that time it was late enough in the day to trundle home.


September 19th, 2018 by kayak woman

So, last night the GG asked me if I could make enchiladas for him to take up to serve on his upcoming North Country Trail work over the next week. Of course I can! So I left Cubelandia at 3:00 PM or so and hit up the Plum Market for grokkeries on the way home.

When I got home, the GG asked me if I needed help. No, I do not but please stand by in case I forgot to buy something and need you to get something from the store. Oh, and can you fix the heat shield on the Ninja’s catalytic converter and maybe check her persnickety taaaars too?

So, I made two pans of chicken enchiladas. I did not need the GG to go to the store for anything, thank you Jeebus.

Not a polly-tickle post (you’re welcome)

September 18th, 2018 by kayak woman

I so want to write a polly-tickle screed but I know I do not have the chops to do it. Maybe I never do. I am certainly not all that well-versed, although I do definitely have some opinions and I don’t think having an opinion is a bad thing and some of mine are at least somewhat informed by life experiences and not whatever the heck Nancy Pelosi says.

Instead, a couple of books I’ve read recently. A few books back, I read “Geek Love”. “Geek” is not not not not not what you are probably thinking. You are probably thinking something like nerdy boy meets nerdy girl somewhere on campus and they program computers forever after, roight? Nope although that would be kind of like what the GG and I did except we didn’t meet until well after college. Instead, you get to Google some other definitions of “geek”. This book was a circus-related book where a couple gets married and then BREEDS their own cast of sideshow characters, including a pair of beautiful Siamese twin girls.

I *loved* this well-written book but it was a WEIRD book but I love weird books. I do not think everyone would like it and I cannot recommend it to anyone who might be creeped out by the idea of miscarried abnormal fetuses preserved in jars of formaldehyde in a traveling show. And yet, the family was really pretty darn functional…

Today I finished Sing Unburied Sing. I loved the author’s lyrical writing. I struggled with the difficult topics. Poor black/mixed race family near the Mississippi gulf coast. Drug addiction. Violence. Prison. Ghosts. As so many ebooks end these days, I was suddenly at the end with over 100 pages left, pages filled with book group/author interview crapola. I didn’t quite understand the ending. So I “cheated” and read some of the crapola and something that the author said gave me an “AHA” moment about the end. I liked the book before that. I LOVE it now.

Hurricane territory

September 17th, 2018 by kayak woman

Stealing a photooo one of my beach urchins sent me today, I hope it’s okay with her. At least it wasn’t an “incriminating” one featuring actual people (those photos are up to her to post). It’s just a [beautiful] beach. Guess where this beach is? It is Myrtle Beach. South Carolina, roight? I’ve never been there. I have walked the beach on Assateague Island, not sure if we were in Maryland or Virginia, the island spans both states. I was wearing a long down coat I bought in the Jurassic Age – think beige and PUFFY! – and listening to a cassette tape of some beautiful Celtic music. It was by a woman whose name and instrument I can’t quiiiiite remember at the moment but I was getting teary-eyed missing my own northern beach, which would’ve been snow and ice-covered at that time of year. That would be a story for another day though.

This was a long-planned trip and although Florence didn’t totally derail it, she morphed it somewhat and the beach urchin and friend landed, as was long planned, in Myrtle Beach but are driving a long way inland to a different destination where I’m guessing the utility grid is more stable. Yesterday when we were driving down from Hoton Lake to The Planet Ann Arbor, we stopped at Freeway Fritz for gas and my iPhone proclaimed flash flood alerts for NC, including the area they would be traveling to. I am a mooma duck but, because my children are independent successful adults, I sat on my hands so as not to text her to “alert” her about that potential. I know she and her friends are much more on top of the situation than I am with my silly little weather app alerts and lack of comprehensive knowledge about NC geography, etc.

Being from the moominbeach, I of course noticed the taaaarrr tracks on the beach in the photo. I dunno what the rules are about driving vee-hickles on that beach so I will pass no judgment about that here. It did make me remember when, on occasion, taaaarrr tracks were observed on the moominbeach. Taaaarrr tracks always stirred up a Big Flap and various people would react with horror and disgust. Radical Betty would be snorting smoke out of her nose and flapping her tail this way and that.

Oh, man.

September 16th, 2018 by kayak woman

I don’t have a lot to say tonight. We are back on The Planet Ann Arbor after a gorgeous weekend at the Hoton Lake group home. We took the Pontoon Bote out of the lake this afternoon and after that, the GG and I headed home. I went on the bote ride over to where we were taking it out of the lake and I was annoyed that The Beautiful Gay was able to have a glass of whine. I could not because I knew I had to drive the Ninja the whole way home from the boat launch to the Planet Ann Arbor.

We debated taking the Lansing Route. In the end, we drove down on US27 to Clare, then over to Bay City on 10 and down on the I75 SUV Speedway.

Not sure what’s next or whether I’ll have to take a wee bit of family leave or maybe just be solo here while others take care of issues. I am on the edge of helping with this. We’ll have to see what happens.

In our underwear

September 15th, 2018 by kayak woman

There’s a lot I could say about today. It was a gorgeous end-of-summer day here at Hoton Lake and there was plenty of time spent on the Pontoon Bote. The few parts of my body that weren’t well covered up got good and burned but it’s the kind of burn that will turn to tan and my face, which does not EVER tan, was well covered.

I took a fair number of photos today and some of them were better than this one, which is waaaaaay apped to the point of surrealistic color. I did that because I had to grab my phone quickly to get a photo (I did a burst) in low light of the Twinz of Terror cutting the Hoton Lake lawn in their underwear. Actually I am not sure that the Uncly Uncle is truly wearing undies but the GG definitely is. And they have holes in them to boot.

Before the GG retaaaaared, I discussed with him how I did not want long hair, excessive facial hair, or finding him hanging out in his underwear. I know these things are really the GG’s choice and not mine but I needed to express my opinion. Long hair didn’t happen. I lived with what *I* considered excessive facial hair for a while but that eventually went away. Undies? Hmmmm.

Once, not long after his retaaaaaarment, I encountered a wee bit of drama when I came home from work. It was summer and one of the beach urchins was temporarily living in the Lyme Lounge (in our driveway) while her apartment was undergoing renovation. The issue? “Moom, DAAAD is working in the front yard in his underwear!” Indeed, he was.

As much as I did not want the GG walking around the front yard in a thin pair of undies that didn’t do a whole lot to disguise his, well you know what, I was kind of cracking up when I confronted him. His response? “She ratted me out.” Meaning the beach urchin, who was quick to say that *she* didn’t want him out there in that kind of attire any more than I did.

Don’t worry, this story has a happy ending

September 14th, 2018 by kayak woman

So, if you are one of my nine(?) Reglear Nucular Taggers, you may have come to know that I recently had a wee bit of a moisture problem with my trusty old laptop and had to get it fixed and it is now clean and beauteous and works like a charm.

This afternoon… We got to Hoton Lake and I could see that there were bottles containing adult beverages hanging about so I decided to get a glass, er make that a plastic cup, of whine and take it out to my freak-out chamber aka the Lyme Lounge where I could work on my blahg in peace. There’s been some weird I-couldn’t-make-this-stuff-up kind of cFam stuff going on the last couple days and I knew that 1) the GG and the Lady of Linden needed to talk and 2) they didn’t need my input. I can hear them talking (in the cabin) but I can’t hear the words, which is probably a good thing.

Anyway, I grabbed what I thought was a sturdy plastic cup and a bottle of whine and headed out to the Lyme Lounge. And then. When I poured some of the whine into the cup, it immediately began streaming out the bottom onto the table RIGHT NEXT TO MY NEWLY REPAIRED LAPTOP! The cup had a blasted HOLE in it! SOMEHOW, I managed to get the cup outside the trailer WITHOUT getting ANY LIQUID on my laptop!!! There is a big spot on my skirt but my skirt is red so it isn’t all that visible.

I set the cup outside and headed into the cabin to get another cup. Apparently I looked quite determined because the Lady of Linden asked me if something was wrong. Well, yes, but it is a first-world problem. Except that, when I started to explain what had happened, the GG (who took care of getting the recent repair done) made a face like he had been electrocuted. IT’S OKAY! NOT A DROP OF WHINE TOUCHED THE LAPTOP!!! !!! !!!

This quick-and-dirty pic shows our setup here. On the left is the cFam cabin, I mean the rebuilt cabin, not the moldy old one. On the right is the Lyme Lounge, where we are sleeping for the weekend (it’s okay, we like to sleep in the Lyme Lounge) with the Ninja tucked in behind it. That’s the neighbors’ cabin behind the Lyme Lounge and Ninja. And behind the photographer what you can’t see is the lake, dock, and Pontoon Bote.


September 13th, 2018 by kayak woman

Isn’t this keyboard loverly? No blood, sweat, or tears. Or even mundane dust particles (which are probably composed in part of blood, sweat, and tears, not to mention flakes of human skin). DNA is everywhere (but you can’t use it like a drug, hahaha, 🐽🐽🐽).

In the end, I paid $333 (oh yeah, plus a diagnostic fee so really more like $400) to fix my ailing humidity/dirt-challenged MacBook Pro. We bypassed the Apple Genius bar and took it to an ancient local business that sells and services Apple stuff – computers at least, not sure about phones. My experiences with the Geniuses at the Bar are mixed and I am glad to give some cash to a local business. Once when I took a previous MacBook Pro in (to the Genius Bar) to get keyboard issues fixed, they freaked out that they found blood. I mean… In the first place, I’m sure it was traces of dried blood. Anyone who owns a laptop has probably bled on it. And are they not wearing blue glubs? I was not impressed. This is my laptop and it resides in my house (or wherever I am) and there WILL be times when a drop of blood (or two) will make its way into my keyboard. That’s life and I am sure you guys have the tools to deal with dried out specks of somebody else’s blood. If it is a large amount of blood, a forensic team might be required to deal with it and they DOOOOOOOO have blue glubs and hazmat suits and whatever they need.

We never figgered out exactly what was wrong this time. It was definitely moisture related but there was no catastrophic event. Maybe it truly was humidity and maybe that issue gets worse as a laptop gets older and the keyboard gets dirtier. I dunno. To make matters worse, we tried to dry out the keyboard with an incandescent lamp. Unfortunately, while no one was watching, the lamp slid down close enough to the keyboard to sorta melt the space bar a bit. I mean, I saw how close the lamp was to the keyboard but I thought it was there on purpose. I guess not.

Glad I didn’t have to buy a new laptop in any case. What a pain that would’ve been. BTW, that dish towel underneath my laptop is there to absorb small drops of water that might be on the counter before they f*ck up the laptop. That has also happened to me.

Oh man, the GG is on the phone with Ed in Fla and I know Ed will never move up here (and we won’t move to Fla) but I sure wish he lived closer to us. Or that there was an apparation app. 🧡🧡🧡


September 12th, 2018 by kayak woman

Ups and downs of the week. Getting into my loverly Ninja on Monday morning and noticing the frickin’ taaaar light was on. Not wanting to deal with a flat like the last time the taaar light went on, I went back home to switch vee-hickles. Alas, the keys to the Frog Hopper were NOT in the basket so I had to dredge the GG outta bed to get me keys. Not a particularly good start to the week. As it turned out, the taaars were okay, no nail like the last time.

We won’t talk about today. Suffice it to say that I can manage to do without my iPhone for a few hours but it isn’t easy.

At the end of it all, I FB connected with a MacMu cousin. One that The Commander certainly knew but I didn’t 🧡🧡🧡

On the other side

September 11th, 2018 by kayak woman

I met up with Amazon Woman yesterday for our first meeting since I dunno when. Without going through all the details, her mom died. This was sad but not unexpected as hospice was involved. Been there done that.

We talked a bit about life after parents die and she kept looking up toward the sky to talk to her mom. Sometimes laughing or sometimes pointing a fist. I get this.

When I was hanging out in the Moomincabin last week, I found this little scrap of garbage information hanging up on the cupboard next to the stove. It is in The Commander’s handwriting. I have no clue when she wrote this but we still do at least some of the garbage per her instructions. Green bags were not available at that time. They are so cool and I bet The Commander would have used them if she were around now.

I don’t really ever look into the sky to talk to my mother but when I see notes like this, it’s kind of the same thing.

Giraffe keyboarding

September 10th, 2018 by kayak woman

So sometime this summer some sort of water event began my loverly MacBook’s slide into disfunctionality. As I have said before, I don’t remember a specific water event but I was also not being very careful about putting my computer in a safe dry place. And then there was the lamp/space bar thing. So…

For the moment, I won’t tell you whether I’m gonna buy a new computer or not. I don’t really wanna buy a new one but not sure what I’ll end up doing.

For the moment I am using an old keyboard. I think it is the keyboard that was attached to Lizard Breath’s college freshman computer. It was a fancy new iMac in those days and I remember it was coming from China and we were at Hoton Lake and then all of a sudden it was in Ann Arbor. We drove over to fedex to pick it up. Little did I know I would be working in that area in a few years.

We’ll see if I have to get a new computer or not. If I do, no problem. If not, I’ll just keep moving on.


September 9th, 2018 by kayak woman

EOS = End of Summer, at least for us at the moomincabin. So people have questions about the moomincabin and Hoton Lake too, for that matter. Here are some answers.

If you live in the Great Lake State, you are familiar with the term “going up north” or some variation of that. Some people escape the hustle and bustle of life in SE Lower Michigan by going “up north”. Going up north can mean staying at a fancy resort or a rustic cabin or a campground. A lot of us own our own “cabin” or “cottage” (I prefer the term “cabin” but that’s what I grew up with, in the beginning, literally a log cabin.)

The GG and I confuse people because we actually have two cabins to visit. This is not because we are filthy rich or because we are greedy. We are neither. We are BLESSED to have ancestors who bought vacation property waaaaay back when (early 1920s for my fam) and we share each property with family members. Well maybe we are greedy since we continue to keep up both pieces of property.

Hoton Lake is three hours from here on the biggest inland lake in Michigan and is (nowadays) a modern house that we don’t have to shut down for the long winter so I won’t talk about that tonight. The moomincabin is more like five hours north. It’s on the upper St. Marys River looking out into Lake Superior and we have Big Water around there.

We have to close the moomincabin for the winter. The moomincabin is open underneath and that is where the pipes are so they would freeze and break if we didn’t empty all of the water from the system and pour antifreeze into it and whatever it is that the GG does. He does most of this stuff. I have done it before (with The Commander) but it would take a long nervous time for me to do it alone. I am a pattern person, not a story problem person. (That’s a reference to a convo I had with my engineer brother back in the Jurassic Age. Go figger.)

We could close the moomincabin later in the season, early October maybe? The problem is that we are five hours away. If we were even two hours away and an October snowstorm was predicted, we could shoot up there in short order and close the place. That doesn’t work all that well from five hours away. Sorry…

Among the other stuff that we do when we close the moomincabin is remove every single bit of food, perishable or not, from the refrigerator and shelves. That’s my job. Oh man it can be a mess. How the heck are we gonna fit all these bags of food in the Frog Hopper and then there’s the hour or so I spend at the other end when we finally land on The Planet Ann Arbor and I have to fit all of the leftover food into my own chitchen. And then there’s the laundry but we’ll go there some other day.

As is usual after we turned off our water, I used my Dear Uncle Harry’s outhouse before we left.

A wrap on a beautiful moominbeach summer.

Last Motor Bote ride for the year

September 8th, 2018 by kayak woman

At least in the Yooperland, that is. I am still hoping for a Pontoon Bote ride at Hoton Lake. We’ll just have to see what happens. The wind is coming out of the north today. A rare direction at least in the summer and always brings a chill to the air although it is hot in the sun here on the bank.

I don’t have much else to say about today. We have to leave tomorrow so in between chores and packing (how many bottles of ketchup can be collected over a summer?) I have been on the beach.

So our Bote ride? We almost made it to Cananada but I didn’t like the waves so we turned back. Oh, we wouldn’t have landed. Jeebus, we know better that. A billion times during our ride I warned the GG that we were in Rock Territory (even though he knows the bay well enough to know where the rocks are). I’m sorry, I am a well trained Rock Watcher. Twice we were in actual danger of hitting a rock and one of those times we did scrape one.


September 7th, 2018 by kayak woman

This morning I put the rainbow sunglasses away for the summer, except for the yellows, which are my favorites because I can see my phone through them. Oh, don’t be judgmental, I *read* on my phone. Wouldn’t you know, I was wearing the yellows on the beach this afternoon when C*Q*L snuck up on me. She noticed the color and OF COURSE I had to go get the rest of the sunnies. I guess summer is truly not over until it’s over and I guess I was pushing it just a bit.

And then we porterized ourselves for dinner and beyond. So much fun! And g’night.

Ariel’s aerials

September 6th, 2018 by kayak woman

Until yesterday, the only aerial photos of the moominbeach that I possessed were a couple of scans from the Sherman archives, taken by my dad’s old buddy Pete Sherman from the passenger seat of the Cessna my dad used to rent (by the hour) from his old buddy Sandy Sanderson. That was in the 1960s.

My friends, yesterday that changed. Droney and his (I *think* Droney is male) handlers visited and when the wind calmed down a bit, Droney took a little flight. Here is the Moomincabin from above.

He did a little shoreline survey in a couple directions.

Here is yer fave blahgger taking a pic of Droney taking a pic of meeeee. Gratuitous shot of C*Q*L and bff.

And here is a pic of Droney, taken by meeee, as he was taking a pic of meee.


September 5th, 2018 by kayak woman

I have officially declared my MacBook Pro keyboard to be hosed. I suspect moisture is involved. I do not think it is simply humidity related but I don’t remember a catastrophic incident like the time I accidentally tipped a wine glass over onto a keyboard. This time, functionality has been deteriorating since the last time I was up here at the moomincabin. All I can say is that my laptop sat out and often open and anyone (including me) could easily have dribbled water or juice or coffee or beer or whine or ‘hattan into it at any time and not noticed. The GG set up this lamp tonight hoping to dry it out. I appreciate his help but I am skeptical and suspect a trip to the Apple store is in my future. (There are no Apple stores in the UP. I thought maybe Marquette? But no. Nothing north of Lansing or Grand Rapids. It’s okay. That was just idle curiosity and I can wait until I get back to the Planet Ann Arbor.)

For now I am reduced (or maybe elevated) to blahgging from my iPhone. This is a lot easier than it used to be because uploading photos is a lot simpler than it used to be.

At any rate, we met up with my BFF Sam and jcb (aka The Guru) at Clyde’s for lunch today. Following their lead, I had my first ever bison burger. It was loverly and a little less messy than the hamburger I had two days ago although I can’t tell you how many napkins I used because I lost count. After Clyde’s, we all decamped to the moomincabin, where we spent the afternoon on the deck, entertained by C*Q*L after her school got out. Dinner and a beautiful sunset followed and our friends hit the highway back to their own yooperland cabin.

G’night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. —KW

A quiet kind of beauty

September 4th, 2018 by kayak woman

I have been to the Paradise/Tahquamenon area a lot of times in recent years but I can’t remember the last time I went to Whitefish Point. Today was the day, never mind that it rained cats and dogs just about the entire day and we were sloshing through big lakes in the Whitefish Point parking lot. Aside from short hooded raincoats we weren’t really dressed adequately for rain so we didn’t venture very far along the beach.

I had read on Facebook that the road to Vermillion had recently been graded so as to better accommodate visitors so we had a tentative plan to head over there too. Although the Frog Hopper would probably have been fine on that road, it was raining so hard we bagged that part of the trip, instead taking a shorter trip to the Shelldrake Dam public access, which is in the pic. Photo ops were not good today because every time I opened the car window a whole bunch of water came in but this one ended up being publishable and I actually like it a lot. Shelldrake is a ghost town by the way and was once a thriving metropolis by yooperland standards. Today I believe most folks living in the area (at least those near the dam) are off the grid and I do not mean just the internet although we certainly didn’t have service.

Lunch? An odyssey albeit a pleasant one. Did *not* want to go over to the brewery at Tahq, not because we don’t like it, just didn’t want to drive over there. Silver Creek Saloon was closed. Lumberjack Tavern (Strongs) was closed. Plan C was to drive up Salt Point Road back to the Curley Lewis and over to the res where I knew Pickles would be open. Salt Point Road was beautiful and Pickles was indeed open. Soup and deep fried mac ‘n’ cheese bites hit the spot and you are right, I am not a fan of orange cheese mac ‘n’ cheese but these things were *good*!

Finally the sun is making a minor appearance and the GG and C*Q*L are taking a bit of a motor bote ride.

Cheers, KW

Lazy Dazy

September 3rd, 2018 by kayak woman

I don’t have too much to say. This morning we went to Meijer for a few groceries. I am loving the new Sault Ste. Siberia Meijer even as I miss the old Glen’s.

After Meijer, we meandered through Sault Ste. Siberia on down to Clyde’s drive in for lunch and then moseyed along down a whole bunch of roads along the lower St. Marys River, nosing in to places that felt a bit like Deliverance.

We were in the Barbeau area but we never quite got to Barbeau. We drove over the Charlotte River and out to 12 mile point and then we took 12 mile road overland and zigzagged back to the moominbeach.

This was exactly what I wanted to do today and every time the GG put on the left blinker I thought, “YES”.