I didn’t expect any storms last night so I was pleasantly surprised when I woke up to some distant thunder at 2:30 AM or whatever. Also? Lots of turkey noise. Not gobbling, just noise.

We didn’t get the full brunt of the storm for another couple hours so I slept fitfully all night, tossing and turning. It was okay and I enjoyed the storm when it did actually arrive. After it blew through, I fell into REM sleep for a half hour or whatever. Dreaming of a totally crazy fabric store with at least 50 rooms of fabric and all kinds of levels with staircases to get to them. The Commander and Mouse were there with me although I lost track of them. I was trying to call them on my iPhone when I ran into all kinds of phone dialing trouble and then I woke up. Phone dialing dreams have been a theme since back when we used those old rotary dial phones. Apparently they still haunt me now. I mean I think I could just say, “Hey Siri, call The Commander.” Er well, maybe that wouldn’t work very well.

Anyway, I did a Meijer run to up our steak dinner game and get some more sipping bourbon and some night light bulbs and then dumped off some (more) recycling. After at least half a day of the GG frenetically jumping around between the moomincabin, garage, and camper, he left to join the UU to camp the night before a hike and then UKW wandered over wondering if the refrigerator was fixed. Nope but I’ll fix it pronto. And I did and we hung out on the moomindeck with Liz for a while, then threw together a leftover dinner.

That’s Heinrich (snowshoe hare) in the not-very-good pic. And I am taaaaared so g’night and typos be damned.

Kinda almost looks like the back roads of Appalachia. Or northern Michigan. I mean, there’s even a fridge (you maybe can’t see it way at the back right). It’s a mini “beer” fridge but still a fridge.

I looked at this mess before this evening’s dinner crew arrived and I had a moment of wondering something like “What would The Commander think about this?” And then I thought something like, “I don’t care what she might’ve thought. I am not gonna neaten this mess up.” After all, I have the whole rest of the summer to do that.

Tonight was chicken and tofu stir fry dishes, engineered by UKW and her d-i-l with me and mouse attending as dishwashers, etc., and Lizard distracting just about the chillest five-month-old any of us have ever met. Smiles anyone? Yes. Lizard herself was a pretty chill baby but she was our first child and had plenty of adult attention in her early babyhood. This child’s older sister managed to somersault (in slow motion) down the (four) back steps from the deck to the ground but she was pronounced to be intact by GoGo, her grandmother, also an RN. All’s well that ends well.

Sipping spirits ended the night along with more MOE-skee-TOES than I was happy about although I don’t think any of them actually bit me. We are semi-battened down for predicted thunderstorms that I personally think will be a plassover, that is they will “plass”-over Whitefish Bay and totally miss us. We’ll see though.

Sayonara, KW

Michigan’s Designated Helper (aka The GG) and I were on the moomindeck this afternoon enjoying the undertaker’s wind (outta the swamp) when a beach urchin came up from the beach. “Dad dad dad. The neighbors have capsized a few times and we think they are all right but maybe you should take the motor bote out there.” She wasn’t in a panic, just trying to get his attention.

Yes. By the time the GG got down to the beach, a passing pontoon bote had already done whatever rescuing needed to be done. I do not know what happened but there was some bailing going on and someone was in the water. I thought they were VERY close to the second sandbar where adults and most children can easily stand up but others are dissenting about that. Apparently one of the sailboaters got into the pontoon bote and the pontoon towed the sailboat back to shore. Sounds like everyone was safe. If they hadn’t been, there’d’ve been ambulances and maybe even Coast Guard helicopters.

We have yet to have a fatal water accident on this beach in the 100 years the family has owned it. But we’ve had some near misses over the years. Usually not someone who LIVES on the beach. All of us beach kids had water safety rules drilled mercilessly into our heads since we were babies. Don’t go swimming without asking an adult to watch you. And guess what? We could *always* get a parent to lifeguard for us, even on the days they had to sit on the beach wearing winter jackets. There are many of those frigid summer days but not today. Hotter than Hades.

We’ll talk about testicle festivals some other day. Or not… Look up “Last Bus to Wisdom.”

Tonight was the fourth community dinner in a row. We’re thinking we might give that a rest for a day or two. During our weeks together, we usually need to do that. Tonight was two whole lasagnas, meat and veggie. I was thinking that was a lot of lasagna but although there is some left, it isn’t anywhere near as much as I thought. It was also a really good beach day and I swam. I needed that.

We’re all tired though and it’ll be good to eat in smaller groups tomorrow night. I’m not sure what we’ll eat but we’ll figger it out. For now I am tooooo taaarrred to think and so good night.

So last night I was tucking myself into bed and all of a sudden, the moomincabin living room exploded with “Rikki don’t lose that number.”

What the f*ck? It turned out that the beach urchins were (upstairs) texting things back and forth and something they texted had the “Rikki don’t lose that number” song attached to it and one of the pods in the living room started playing it.

It took a while (and a lot of giggling) for the beach urchins to communicate to their baggy old moom what the heck was going on. Eventually the pod got turned off but somehow that led to a bunch of muskellunge flinging, which of course led to a whole bunch more giggling. As these “kids” are closer to 40(!) than 15, they ended the giggling PDQ and crashed out. When they were teenagers, the four of them (my two and their two cousins) were giggling so much once that I finally threatened to fling a muskellunge at them. There was a few seconds of silence after that (they didn’t really know what a muskellunge was, for one thing), then they collapsed in more giggling.

We had community dinner at the moomincabin tonight, us and the Old Cabin and Don and Katie’s cabin folks. Indoor and outdoor seating was available. I chose to sit inside with cousins Grinch and Judd.

The photo is just before I went to bed a couple nights ago. I was still alone here at the moomin at that point. I looked out the back window and all of these harmless little bugs were congregated there trying to get to the light I guess. Around this time every summer, we get a hatch like this and sometimes when I arrive in the kitchen in the morning, they are plastered all over the side of the refrigimatator with a bunch of dead ones in the sink. Their life span is very short.

This happens because the back door doesn’t usually shut unless you pull it shut. Unless it slams itself but that’s a whole ‘nother thing and it hasn’t done that this summer. Yet.

Our day began with coffee and a wee brek on the deck, then a mega-grock run to Meijer by three badass women. We had three carts and I think we all had so much stuff that we went through staffed checkout lines this time. I usually do the uscan but I am not crazy. Alas, something not fun was going on in the line I was in. The cashier seemed to be having a conflict with a couple other employees and I couldn’t tell if she was crying at the end or what. Ugh.

Eventually we all reconvened out at Cygnus. After an afternoon of making corn chowder (mouse) and eggplant parmesan (meeee), I was getting ready to head to the beach when the Mean Old Grunchie Old Grinch appeared. We fed him corn chowder and eventually dinner. We ended the evening with the next door cousins visiting the deck and that’s about all I have for tonight. I MUST get to bed SOON! Typos and other writing weirdness be damned.

UKW texted me from next door this morning asking if there was coffee. I texted back, “I’ll make some.” A hurried call to Coffee Boy aka the GG ensued. “How much coffee do I put into the coffee maker?” It’s one of those small Mr. Coffee thingies and it takes more or less three scoops.

Okay, I was kinda wondering what mug would be appropriate to serve UKW’s coffee in. We have about a bazillion mugs here because my dad collected mugs. Big Ass (on the right) is “my” mug. My dad named it that and he purchased it at the Columbia Ice Field. The GG usually uses the f*cking rabbits mug, which is not shown but is described in “The Bean Trees” by Barbara Kingsolver. After I read that book (a looooong time ago), I found that mug on line somewhere. Or maybe I didn’t even find it online. Like I said, it was a loooong time ago.

So, what mug do I give UKW? Oh! There’s my Queen of F*cking Everything (QOFE) Mug. That was just the ticket for a badass woman like UKW. BTW, in my book, badass women do more good than bad in this world. We are coming for Trump and his clown car (or is it just a gang of thugs). The QOFE mug is really mine but somehow I like to use Big Ass. Maybe they both mean the same thing?

As we were drinking our coffee, folks started drifting over from the Old Cabin and we ended up hanging out on the moomindeck all morning. It was loverly.

Noonish, a bunch of people went up to the Iroquois lighthouse to watch the start of the Trans Superior sailboat race. I did not participate in that trip. Been there done that and didn’t feel like being around a bunch of tourists. Then beach time and dinner at the Old Cabin including pizza from Superior Pizza in Brimley and salad from the moomincabin with ingredients from Adaawegamigowaa and mouse’s garden, which also means mouse drove up here today.

G’night. Zzzzzzzzzz…

Picking up somebody at Daytwa Metro involves a freeway drive, umpteen bazillion traffic lights, mega-traffic and whatever mayhem the airport decides to throw at you on any particular day.

Once, picking up the GG, there was some kind of “incident” and I had to circle on the terminal road for something like 10 times before I could actually get to the pick-up area. Another time, I was picking up Lizard Breath and there were about a zillion DayTwa po-leeese parked willy nilly in the pick-up area, standing outside their po-leeese cars blowing their whistles. Also the usual 3-4-5 lanes of cars there to pick up passengers. What were those whistles telling us to do? I do not know. No rhyme or reason to anything. Something like the Trump administration.

Today? I picked up UKW from the Chippewa County International Airport, formerly known as Kincheloe AFB, where B52s took off and landed when I was a kid. I could’ve taken a freeway, the I75 SUV Speedway, for a few miles. Instead, the three-way stop in the bustling burg of Brimley was the most difficult traffic of the trip and even that was nothing.

Heading south outta Brimley I located Bound Road and traversed that south a few more miles, then snaked my way over to Kinross, where the airport is located, on Thompson Road. I parked in the pick-up lane with three or four other vee-hickles, got out and leaned on Cygnus so UKW would see me, thinking she might not remember my car but she would certainly remember me. No po-leese anywhere to be seen.

She got in the car and I asked if she wanted to go straight to the moominbeach or have a late lunch at Pickle’s (on the way to the moomin) instead. After 30 hours of travel, Pickle’s won and that was a good choice because it gave the two of us a chance to do a bit of one-on-one “downloading” before we got to the beach. Family talk but also political (anti-Trump) talk.

So what’s wrong with this picture? If you guessed “you parked in a handicap spot”, you win the booby prize. Yes, I did. Neither of us saw that sign when we parked. I mean, there is a lot of vegetation around it but it IS visible. Fortunately the tribal po-leese were not inclined to patrol the Pickle’s parking lot this afternoon. Late afternoon beach and swimming, then a noodle dinner at the Old Cabin finished off the day.

I owe a few people some emails/texts🧡🧡🧡

It was a day I didn’t have to do anything or be anywhere except for going to the Adaawegamigowaa up on the res, where I made a great big haul but no shelling peas, alas.

I didn’t really interact with the neighbor cousins until the late afternoon but I’ll likely barge in on them in the evening. I *did* interact with BFF via text and email. My blahg was doing a really weird thing and I could’ve asked the Guru, since he runs the whole shebang, but BFF is his wife so I contacted her instead. I haven’t talked to her in a while and I didn’t know how much I NEEDED to talk to her, even just text messaging/emailing. And my problem is resolved (via the Guru). It was one of those things I feel like I should’ve been able to troubleshoot by myself but… 1) I do tech work for a living and I am on vacay and 2) I got to text with BFF. (And 3), I had no frickin’ clue🤣)

After that, I got a text from UKW to say they were in line for the ferry. The ferry is the first leg of a loooong trip across country. The last leg of the trip will be a short ride in Cygnus X-1 from the local airport to the moominbeach tomorrow. Or maybe to Pickles if UKW hasn’t had anything of substance to eat in a while. Whatever.

After that, of all the stupid things, I burst into tears. Jeebus. I hardly ever cry about anything. I didn’t cry when my brother, dad, and mom died (in that order). And it’s not like there was anything to cry about. Talking to people you love but hardly ever see is a GOOD THING. I think my emotional state just kind of boiled over for a minute and leaked out my eyes.

There was a wedding on the beach this afternoon. It was a few cabins down at our late friend Barb’s old place. This wedding joined a Piedy child (bride) to an MS child (groom). I’ll let you guess what “MS” stands for in this case. Your first guess might not be right. The Piedy family is lifelong friends with my fam but there are a lot more people in that fam. I know only the *grandparents* of the bride and I interact a lot more with a couple of their siblings. So no, we were not invited and that was just fine with me. After all, I was having a meeeee day and no way was I gonna share that with some bride. Joking and meaning no disrespect. I wish them all the best. My wedding was on this beach too.

It’s been Saturday all day for me. But it is NOT Saturday because WCMU NPR is playing a talk show, not folk music. What it IS, is Wednesday, and the first day of my summer vacation, yay!

Uck, I am usually a good sleeper (unless the GG is thrashing around) but last night was one of THOSE nights (and the GG was not thrashing around, at least he wasn’t thrashing around with me👀). I’m kidding. He was at Hoton Lake with siblings and nieces and nephews and great nieces and great nephews and outlaws of all description. I was not with him because I have my own incoming family members here at the moominbeach. I love his family and miss being there with them. but I need to be with my fam too.

Anyway, just before I crashed out for the night, a text message came in to our family group from our “bonus daughter”, who was in a area that was under tsunami evacuation protocols. After some deliberation, she evacuated but then regretted it when the tsunami ended up being a nothing burger in her area.

I wasn’t really worried about the tsunami and I fell asleep quickly but woke up two hours later and did I ever get back to sleep? I dunno. Maybe. It was a bit windy all night and at one point, I realized I heard seagull cries mixed in with the wind. Okay, it’s morning then. Time to get up. I learned long ago to just ride with non-sleeping overnights. I don’t get them frequently.

So, okay. I got up and outta PDQ and early and… Kitchen and bathroom cleaning. I scrubbed the moomintub (an RV tub, yes really) but it needs attention from the MoominQueen of Bathroom Cleaning. I hung around for a bit waiting to see if new colleague would text that he wanted to meet. He didn’t and that is great although I still feel guilty about missing meeting with him yesterday.

A quick romp through Meijer for a few grocks, then a trip up to Brimley to mail the summer property tax check for the moomincabin and to get cash for the farmers market tomorrow from the ATM at the credit union.

I spent some time on the beach (chilly northwest wind today) and then on the moomindeck with our next door Old Cabin cousins as they waited for one of their sons to arrive with three women. His Significant Other and two other long-time friends. I think he had to meet two different planes at our local airport. which used to be Kincheloe AFB, which launched B52 bombers over our beach (on training missions).

And so after my own loverly leftover dinner I visited the Old Cabin and its guests just about forever. So much fun. G’night.

A volunteer squash is growing out of one of my impatiens pots. I actually think I pulled up a squash plant earlier in the summer. I had no clue what it was. I do recognize the flower on this one. The impatiens seem to be doing very well. Too bad I’m not there to enjoy them but being there would involve sitting in a closed up air-conditioned house. We never got around to potting any impatiens at the moomincabin this year. Very complicated summer with people traveling here, there, and everywhere.

I am technically off for the rest of this week and the next two weeks. Due to a series of snafus that are too complicated to describe, I may have to hop on line for a half hour or so tomorrow. It’s okay. I don’t really have anything much on the schedule for tomorrow except maybe a quick trip for grocks.

I am kinda done done done for the night. Hung out on the beach until almost 8:00 tonight. Will I have enough stamina to watch an episode of something or not. Maybe not. But I’m also kind of done with NPR for the night. Cheers.

The first pic is my old coot walking back from the Doelle end of the beach with his cane or whatever it was. I don’t know what I had done to inspire him to wave his cane at me. The dog’s head is my brother’s old dog Sam, a rescue mutt. I joke that Sam was protecting me from my old coot but he was just as good friends with my dad as he was with me and he is just coincidentally between my dad’s playful cane wielding and me.

And then there is The Commander, who may have had a more serious reason for aiming a cane at me.

The moominbeach is slowly filling in with extended family, with a young cousin arriving last night. More cousins and their friends to arrive later in the week.

How often do you pull your stove and refrigimatator out to clean behind them. That is, if you can pull them out. I pull out the Landfill refrigimatator all the time because it’s the only way I can get the crisper drawers out to wash them. Yes, bad design. I blame us, not Certified Kitchen Lady. Gertrude (the landfill stove), cannot be pulled out.

Today was apparently a cleaning day. Who knew? I had no plans to deep clean, even though this place needs it. The GG aka Suzy Q. Homemaker had other ideas and got into it bigtime. I long ago learned that when he(she?) is on a roll, I had best stay outta the fray and so I did. Windows and floors and sand magnets aka throw rugs and I dunno what else. I did word puzzles and read. I did clean the terlet and bathroom sink.

The entire day was not a work day. We introduced the current next door cousins to the Cozy Corners bar/restaurant in Barbeau, one of our new fave places to eat lunch. One of the Cozy’s features, besides the lake freighters that pass by, is that getting there from the moominbeach requires a beautiful drive on almost totally deserted country roads. No need to go near the bustling metropolis of Sault Ste. Siberia, not that it is all that bustling.

On the way back, we investigated a bitcoin mine that is in a conflict with a charter school across the street/highway because apparently bitcoin mining is noisy. We agreed after pulling up next to it and listening although a whole ton of hay bales were piled in front of it apparently to mitigate the noise. (Hay is a major crop in the eastern yooperland.) I don’t know jack-doodly about bitcoin mining so I didn’t know what to expect this operation to look like. Basically it was six small blocky looking structures lined up in a row. I’m not sure how else to describe it.

Anyway, it was a slodgy day for me but it is a whole lot cleaner around here, no thanks to me. I work tomorrow and Tuesday and then I am off for 2-1/2 weeks. Cheers!

This pic is probably a Piedy great-grandchild water skiing or whatever they are riding on.

When I was a kid, water skiing was a big thing on the beach. Chicken that I was, I did learn to water ski. I will never forget sitting back in the water with skis on and being pulled up by the motor bote. Was I good at it? Nope. Did I like it? Not really. I was pretty freaked out. There were older boyz on the beach who were so good they skied slalom. That means they skied on one ski with one foot behind the other.

My water skiing “career” ended early. I went to camp fire girl camp and was bitten by some kind of frickin’ spider. It was just a little itchy thing at camp. When I came home, I water skied with it and I fell. I was well taken care of but that spider bite got worse and worse and turned into a big fugly cyst-like thing on my inner thigh. I ended up having to go to the emergency department, where they “lanced” it. All kinds of fugly shitola came out and there was a huge rainstorm going on all that day and I was crying my eyes out the whole time.

It was a couple weeks before I could walk without a “stick” (that we found outside somewhere) and I never really tried to water ski again.

When the weather says that, it means the Great Lakes. We had an on-shore breeze going all day and even when it got to be 70 degrees, I was still wearing a Smartwool shirt and a polar fleece vest.

I don’t have much to talk about today. It was a work day and I shluffed off some kinda boring stuff to my new co-worker. Mostly I needed a second set of eyes on work that iDeep and I had already done but also because new co-worker will have to deal with this stuff without me sooner or later and I figgered at least he will know where it all is when when he has to deal with it without me.

After dinner we decamped to the Old Cabin to visit our next door cousins du jour. Lots of talk about flinging parental stuff (and our stuff) and that is about all I have the strength to say at this point.

Next to me at the farmers market🤣 I had to sneak to take this pic because the guy who owns this vee-hickle kept coming in and out of the farmers market in his neon green shirt. Also, he can’t be all bad because he has a stuffed rabbit(?) attached to his front right bumper (just noticed that now).

Not that you would never see a Trumpmobile down on the Planet Ann Arbor but you would be MUCH more likely to see peace signs and rainbows, and “coexist”, etc.

My haul today was whitefish right outta Gitchee Gumee, onions, lettuce, TOMATOES (this early in the summer?!?), cucumber, little potatoes, a few carrots, SHELLING PEAS (AGAIN!), and I fergit what else.

I texted this pic to FinFam (my daughters and bonus daughter/niece and the GG) and one of the beach urchins reminded me of the story that inspired today’s title.

I was up here with the POC. That was my bee-yoo-tiffle Island Teal Chrysler minivan that probably shouldda been lemon colored. It was acting up and I fergit why but it was at the dealer and I borrowed the Traf for the day. The Traf was my parents’ Geo Tracker and Traf is “fart” backwards if you didn’t already figure that out. This vee-hickle is not a Traf but it has a kinda similar form factor.

The parents left to do octogenarian-type errands and when I came up from the beach, there was a post-it note on the table. It was from my dad. It was *written* by my mother. And SIGNED “Jack” by my mother. It said something like, “Don’t drive it over 50 or the engine will blow up!” Ooooookaaaay…

I emailed my brother the automotive engineer and he got back to me PRONTO with, “WHO THE HELL SAID THAT!?!” Of course he knew FULL WELL who the hell said that. The funny thing is that once I got out on 6-mile Road, it didn’t feel all that comfortable going much faster than 50.

I like to be friendly (but not overly chatty) to grocery u-Scan clerks. At the Soo Meijer, I have run into one particular woman a few times and she usually asks me if she can scan one of my items in order to “get her quota”.

I’ve got the routine down now so the last time I shopped and she was there, I asked her if she wanted to scan something and also why she needed to get a “quota”. Her explanation wasn’t unclear but I didn’t totally understand it. After all, I am not a Meijer employee (but just wait🤪). When she said something about “corporate”, I definitely got it. I said, “Oh, somebody somewhere is counting something.” Yep.

Before she left my u-Scan, I tried to scan a bag of coffee beans. No love. I looked at the UPC and it was destroyed. So I asked for help. She couldn’t get it to scan either and she ALSO couldn’t enter the numbers below the UPC. Mainly because they were teensy tinesy and she couldn’t see them well. I decided to try to help her beat the musheen since I see teensy tinesy print very well. So I focused on the numbers and slowly recited them while she entered them. Oops. There was one number that was almost totally obliterated. (The second pic is what we were dealing with.) I squinted at it and totally GUESSED that it was an “8”. DING DING DING! It worked and I won the booby prize. She was so amazed that I got it that she told me on the spot, “YOU’RE HIRED👏

I refrained from telling her that my very first job was cashier in a discount department store. One in which I had to run one of those old fashioned mechanical cash registers with rows and rows of buttons. I refrained from telling her how much I liked that job, which I was very good at. Except for the pay ($1.75/hour). But I was a college student and my parents were paying for the bulk of my lifestyle.

This u-Scan gal is obviously very intelligent and good at her job. All the Meijer folks are wonderful but I feel like this gal is a bit more of a kindred spirit somehow. Grocery jobs may not be brain surgery or rocket science (neither is my job) but they do require a high level of intelligence and creativity. Grocery workers also deal with a lot of crap from rude customers and sometimes incompetent managers and they deserve a LOT more pay. I refrained from telling her that too.

Warm, gentle rain and a light breeze this afternoon and evening. Doors and windows open. Temperatures in the lower peninsula are going to sky-rocket so I will take this. Photo taken from the moomindeck. The GG was in the Lyme Lounge at the time.

Make no mistake. This wasn’t some kind of secret tryst. I’ve been married to the GG for over 40 years and we were heading off to do some mowing on the North Country Trail. He had taken Moooon Yooonit out there to hook the trash trailer up to it and I was just joining him there.

So I went out to the garage, I was greeted by this scene. Expect the unexpected is often the name of the game in our long-time marriage so I wasn’t really all that surprised. Just another moment of WTF?

When I was a kiddo, we didn’t have a garage at the moomincabin. My brother talked my parents into building one. At the time I was advocating for a “bunkhouse”, with a bathroom, and laundry facilities somewhere. I was pooh-poohed. Like always. You’re just a girl. You can’t drive late at night (Cyndi Lauper), yada yada yada. The male members of my birth family prevailed and we got a garage. To be honest, building a bunkhouse with water and laundry would have been a pretty huge endeavor what with putting utilities in and would probably have involved a chainsaw massacre.

So there was some grumping and grousing about the garage (including from yer fav-o-rite blahgger) but in the long run it turned out to be a good thing. It holds a whole bunch of small botes, some of which used to over-winter INSIDE the blasted moomincabin and other places. It was a really handy place to stage stuff from The Comm’s house after she died and we were getting rid of things. And it provides a Man Freakout Chamber for the GG and a place for him to hold court with whoever is walking or driving down the road while he is out there. And the trees between the cabin and the garage have grown up so much I can’t even really see the garage from the deck. I don’t think the “artwork” on the wall is anything my parents owned.

Anyway, the second photo is the finished product. The green amphibian thingy is Froggette, not Froggy. The hat proclaims “Black Flies Matter”. I get the stoopid yooper humor but am not all that amused by it given how divided our country is with such a nut case at the helm. And yes he *is* a nut case and yes our country *is* divided.

We hosted my next door neighbor-cousins for dinner tonight. They are leaving tomorrow for further journeys before they head into the sunset back to Seattle. I love to have people over for dinner the night before they are leaving. Even though I am working this week, it is easy for me to cook and clean up and saves them a couple more tasks in the midst of packing.

We made the dinner party plan yesterday afternoon and so it was the GG who ended up doing what shopping needed to be done. It was BBQ chicken thighs, pre-packaged potato salads from Meijer (they have some good ones), green salad because I have tons of lettuce, etc., from last Thursday’s farmers market over on the res, and peas that I shelled myself on Saturday, also from the farmers market.

It all worked out very well. We spent hours on the moomindeck eating, drinking a wee bit, gabblety-gabbling and watching the sun go down. Fun fun fun and I will miss them when they leave. More family will be coming over the next few weeks. I don’t necessarily believe in “heaven” or that people who have passed St. Peter’s gate can see what’s going on here on the planet Earth but on the off chance that my grandparents could see us here this summer, I think they might be happy.

Not to get maudlin or anything. And g’night!

The eastern yooperland is pretty much trumperland although I have a bunch of friends in the area who, like me, are not and have NEVER been fans of Trump, MAGA, or DOGE.

I am living in a “mixed” marriage. I totally don’t understand how anyone in their right mind could support Trump (and MAGA and DOGE) but I know I am not alone in my mixed marriage. And yet, we somehow get along. Today the GG hooked up the North Country Trail (NCT) utility trailer with the DR mowing musheen and we took off up the shore to Bark Dock, where the GG mowed for about an hour.

After that we headed south to M28, a main artery across the northern yooperland. We needed to turn east at that point and somehow I looked back and saw the DOGE sign. Double-take? Yes. We were looking for a Chippewa County Road facility where the NCT tool trailer was situated and after some fumbling (like going west first instead of east), we found it. I made the GG drive back (a tenth of a mile) to the DOGE sign so I could get a pic. We do not agree “politicallee” but this was too much fun for for him to deny me a photo op, even though he knew I would probably use it to disparate Trump/MAGA/DOGE.

After that, we headed east on M28 and he suggested getting lunch at the Strongs Tavern. Yes yes yes. My BLT and mini bottle of merlot were fantabulous. Home to the moomincabin and eventually the beach. A northwest wind made it ultra cold down there today but my smartwool leggings, shirt, and socks along with a polarfleece jacket kept me cozy.