travel

Sights & Sounds

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Even something as special as owning a long stretch of Lake Superior shoreline comes with its own set of challenges.   For all its natural beauty, everyone still seems to find their own version of stress while “relaxing” there. For those that haven’t been there, the property faces Lake Superior on one side and borders a river on the other side. While the Superior side is very tranquil and undeveloped, the opposite side faces the river, and a fairly busy private campground.

As I already shared, unwelcome visitors stress some people out.  Trespassers.  ATVs are a constant source of headache whether they are on the beach or creating trenches from crossing the driveway.  Then there are the boaters and wave runners that fly in and out of the launch across the river, seemingly unconcerned about swimmers sharing those waters. 

For others like me; it’s the noise coming from across the river.  What they might consider the joyous sounds of children making memories, I hear something a little less charming.  For me, there’s nothing more annoying than teenage girls screaming to get the boys’ attention.  I can’t imagine any teenage boy gauges their attraction to a young girl in a skimpy bikini by how loud she can scream.  In my house, you had better be in real danger before you decide to start screaming.   I won’t even go into barking dogs.

While we think we are looking forward to the day when our grandchildren are all able to go with us, we might just find ourselves quietly escaping in the boat in search of a little peace and quiet.  Thankfully, the property offers both – space to gather and space to disappear.  Everyone has their favorite space. Some prefer the original cabin with its rustic feel while others gravitate toward the newer cabin with a few more comforts. 

Then there’s scheduling – or the inability to schedule I should say.  Something as simple as a pontoon ride can feel like herding cats.  What should take minutes often takes hours.  Mornings are no different.  Some are up at daybreak with coffee in hand, while others find sleeping in until noon more enjoyable. Add babies into the mix and you have a real scheduling nightmare on your hands!

Last year we learned that not only do the early birds get the worms, but they also enjoy the most spectacular sunrises and see bears!  After years of waiting to see a bear, last year we finally did.  Unfortunately, it was on the back of my son-in-law’s truck.  After a steady diet of discarded “world-famous” apple fritters scraps from the Voyageur this bear was probably just looking to cut carbs.  Broaden the menu.  In hindsight, storing our trash in the truck bed may not have been one of our best ideas.  We managed to scare him off before he ruined the truck’s tonneau cover.  I’m still not sure what possessed my husband to go out and poke a bear with a rake handle. Rather than question his judgement, I did what any reasonable person would do – I grabbed my phone and started filming.  Clearly, old age doesn’t mark the end of bad decision making.       

At the end of the day, these inconveniences are just small blemishes on something truly special.  I can’t let this place be defined by its challenges — because that’s not what keeps bringing us back. 

Trespassers

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We’ve been given an extraordinary gift, a stretch of Lake Superior shoreline on the Canadian side. A place so special that most people only get to visit. Which, apparently, also makes it irresistible.  It’s a delicate balance of being friendly or neighborly and protecting what’s yours.  Especially when people know we are Americans and there isn’t always someone on the property.  You don’t want to overreact, but you also don’t want to find your place has been “borrowed” when you next show up.    

Trespassers have always been part of the story, and for some in the family, a real source of stress.  Yes, people can legally walk the beach and swim, but they aren’t welcome to use the property as if it were an extension of the neighboring public park.  Thurston, for one, has taken this personally. 

In recent years, he’s seen to it that strategically placed signs dot the landscape – gentle but firm reminders that this is, in fact, private land. As you enter the property, a large private property sign greets you. You would think that might be enough to stop people from heading down the long single-lane drive to the cabins. But every so often, someone pulls in anyway—just curious, they say. Or hopeful. “Could we pay to camp here, just for the night?” Or my personal favorite: “Can we just cross over here to get over there?” Well… no. Because that’s private property too.

In effort to keep a clean shoreline, a local establishment recently started providing doggy waste bags.  Thoughtful gesture – until people began filling the bags and tossing them into our woods.  Which raises an important question: if you’re going to throw it into the bushes anyway, why use the bag?  At this point, we’re considering new signage.  Something along the lines of: Save the bag.  Send the dog to the woods.  The bears won’t mind.    

Those on foot are one thing but those of the 4-wheel variety are another.  The sound of 4-wheelers is sure to put everyone on alert.  And one evening, it pretty much ruined what was supposed to be our attempt at a romantic beach night.  The beach side is usually too windy for a fire, but on this rare, calm evening, we made multiple trips back and forth – chairs, wood, blankets, beverages – everything we needed for a perfect evening. 

We hadn’t even poured our first drink before we heard it.  Not the crackle of the fire, but the low hum of engines.  I told myself they were going to the public beach.  They were not.  They turned and headed straight toward us.  Thurston took off like a rocket.  Meanwhile, I stayed behind, mentally preparing to dial 911 for help and wondering – does 911 even work in Canada? 

There were only a few of them, but at that moment, it felt like a parade. My heart was pounding. Thurston—who is very much a lover, not a fighter—was suddenly prepared to defend the shoreline. They pulled up, shut off their machines, and explained.  Fireworks. In August. Apparently, their Canada Day celebration in July had been rained out… and this was the rescheduled event. Expecting not only to drive across our property with their quads and trailers but to shoot the fireworks off our point. They assured us they’d been doing this for over twenty years and had permission from the owner.  Which might have carried more weight… if that owner hadn’t passed away in 2018.

After a fairly-direct conversation about how this sort of thing might have been better handled — perhaps by stopping in during daylight hours and asking permission —we reached a compromise.

They could pass. One last time. As it turned out, the only fireworks that night were the ones in the sky.  They were amazing.  Our romantic beach evening? Slightly less spark. But hope springs eternal. Maybe this will be the year.

Stay tuned.

Sharing Something that Matters

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Back in the early days of dating my husband, he told me his family owned a cabin in Canada. It was rustic but had modern conveniences like running water and working bathrooms. It was shared not only with siblings and cousins, but also with a few uninvited guests — mice, bats, ants, and the like.

It was clear from the very beginning; he loved that place. If I couldn’t find a place for it in my heart, we probably weren’t suited for the long term. Even then, his retirement dream included spending as much time there as possible.

Luckily, I loved the outdoors — fishing, boating, swimming — and didn’t mind sharing space with a few critters. I had a feeling I’d love it too if I gave it a chance.  I was right. I fell head over heels for something that would never be mine.  Thanks in part to Canadian law. 

Owning a cabin with eight other families is a never-ending lesson in compromise. There are hundreds of years of combined memories — some shared by many, others held secretly by just one or two. For the most part, we try to respect that, but it’s not always easy when one person’s treasure is another’s trash.

Case in point: the dining hall walls.

I will never forget the first time I saw them — magazine covers from the Saturday Evening Post, newspaper clippings, and crayon drawings all on display. Seeing drawings my husband and his siblings had made as children was something special. It felt like stepping back into history.

Some see clutter on those walls. I see the work of family elders; people who were here before us, leaving pieces of themselves behind.

In effort to find middle ground, everything was taken down at the end of the season. Everything that was still intact was laminated. If it was worth displaying, it was worth preserving. Before anything could go back up, the walls needed a thorough scrubbing.  Layers of dust, practically cemented to the logs by layers of spattered grease from fried bacon and potatoes, were removed. The best pieces went back on the walls, and the rest were placed into a binder.  Compromise.

The kitchen tells a similar story. After years of talking about it, we gave the space new life with used cabinets, a homemade countertop, and new plank flooring.  After hours on hands and knees, pulling hundreds of old staples and nails, we couldn’t save the original flooring.  Laying new laminate flooring felt like defeat but it had to happen.  Even something as simple as organizing cupboards becomes a challenge when everyone has a different idea of what makes sense. It’s far from high-end, but it’s functional; and much closer to being mouse-proof.

And then there’s the “stuff.”

With nine households involved, the cabin has become the landing place for things no one wants at home. Appliances, dishes, linens — all brought with good intentions. Over time, closets fill, shelves overflow, and much of it goes unused. What remains is a collection of items no one quite claims, and no one feels comfortable discarding. No one wants to be the one who throws out something someone else once loved.

Every effort to update or maintain the cabin becomes a balancing act between practicality and preservation. It’s not practical for nine families to share one property — especially in another country. Yet for now, it’s what keeps it intact.

No one wants to imagine a day when future generations are simply strangers who happen to share ownership. What was meant to be one man’s greatest gift to his family has become something far more complicated.

Sharing a place like this isn’t really about ownership. It’s about deciding what’s worth holding onto — and what we’re willing to let go of. It means accepting that not everyone’s vision will align, that the effort will never be evenly matched, and that what feels perfect to us may not feel the same to those who come after us.

Like a marriage, something like this doesn’t work by accident. It takes intention. It takes patience. And it takes a willingness to compromise.

I just hope we’re all up for it.

Learning to Get Along

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The last few weeks have brought us some great memories and fun; but let’s face it, it’s really hard to feel upbeat when our country is in the shape that it is.  Not only are we all frustrated with prices at the gas pump and the grocery store; we are all unable to fully relax and enjoy the company of friends and loved ones because of the glaring political divide.  It’s no secret that the media is so in tune with what our preferences are that all we are able to access is more of the same brainwashing material.  Finding material to help you see the other side is practically impossible.  We are all being fed the information that “they” want us to see and hear that supports our own feelings; often separating us from our friends, family and neighbors.    

I am very proud of my 22 years of service to my community as a township official.  This experience gave me a lot of opportunity to strongly debate my thoughts on an issue and actively listen to the other side. Still, able to leave the meeting as friends; as if we shared all the same opinions.  Unfortunately, it seems that so many are unable to do that in the current political climate. I would like to think that it will get better after the election but I’m afraid it won’t all be settled with an election.

Speaking of coming together and serving a common goal; Scott and I had the pleasure of providing the host location for our grandson’s first birthday party.  While many of us would prefer to never have to see our ex’s again, reality is that with children and grandchildren, that isn’t always possible.  Working through this team-effort party, I found myself texting back and forth with Scott’s ex and going to her house to pick up things for the party.  It had to be pretty awkward for her too; being at the house that she and Scott built together and seeing all the changes. It’s weird; but it gets better with time. When you see the success that you can achieve when you act as a team it makes it all worthwhile.  It helps that we are all happier with the way it is versus the way it was; so we are all winners. 

Our greatest challenges were not people challenges.  We managed; despite the lawn mower belt coming off right when we needed to mow where the tent was to go, pouring rain when we had scheduled set-up time, and the typical problems you run into when setting up a tent or awning.  No one passed out blowing up the hundred and some balloons either.  Our little man’s first rodeo was a total success.  A very successful collaboration between his parents and the three sets of grandparents.  A party fit for a king.  He won’t remember it but we have plenty of pictures to prove it happened.  The family potluck immediately following was also a hit and by 9:30 p.m. we called it a day; leaving the rest of the clean-up until tomorrow.  Finally, a good day!   Praise the Lord!  Right?  Nope; I realize that my bank has been texting me; my debit card has been hacked.   

After the dust settled on our party day; our remaining six days home were packed with problem solving.  I got a new debit card and thankfully the bank took care of the fraudulent charges.  We got Scott’s truck into the body shop to repair damage done while we were shopping in Home Depot last month.  Fortunately, someone witnessed the employee causing the damage so it was covered.  I closed out three bank accounts we don’t need any more.  We figured out how to get his scripts filled in the U. P. since they can’t be shipped to Canada.  I guess there is a limit on the number of vacations you can go on and still get your prescriptions filled early if you are going to be out of the state or country.  Isn’t that the idea?  To retire and be on vacation all the time?        

I promised myself when I wrote the last post that the next one would be positive and upbeat.  So, I better get this thing turned around fast!  I know my life is something most would envy but we wouldn’t be humans if we didn’t get stuck in the mud at times.   

After squatting with family members at the cabin during their vacation weeks, it was finally time for our two weeks up there.  Scott’s daughter and husband joined us with their senior dog for a very chill week.  She is expecting a little girl in October and I was happy to act as photographer for them for some baby-bump pictures on the beach.  Fishing continued to suck and Scott and I both caught cold AGAIN but it was fun and relaxing. The following week had some friends join us for a great, relaxing time.  Although not everyone was able to make it up this year, we made lots of great memories.  Cooking on the outdoor stove, chilling on the pontoon and story-telling at the bonfire.  Two weeks of ideal weather in the mid to upper 70’s, with a great breeze = perfect.  Heaven on earth!  Even better; I FINALLY caught a fish.  Actually, two very nice fish.  These two whoppers putting me in the top spot for 2024.  Scott caught his first walleye in what he says is 54 years; yet go figure, after returning to camp with the fish supposedly on the stringer, they found that it had released itself.  At least he had a witness and a photo to back up his claim.  Has the worm turned?  I’ll provide an updated fishing report in my next post.

We had a great Labor Day Weekend with multiple activities with friends and family.  This week is also packed with fun things as we take advantage of the extended period of very warm weather.  After a number of failed attempts at stocking my new little backyard fish pond, I think I have done it.  I say think because after creating a really cool environment including multiple hiding places for them, I’m lucky to sneak up on them and catch a swish of a tail of one or two before they hide.  Hopefully over time they will respond to my attempts to feed them.  Particularly now that I have over $200 into the pond and supplies; plus over $40 worth of fish food.  Probably not one of my better ideas.  I should probably just order some rubber goldfish from Amazon and call it finished. 

I woke this morning before daylight; not ideal, but excited because I’m meeting with some girlfriends at a pool.  I guess if September is determined to be a continuation of a hot and dry summer, we might as well make the most of it.  The cleaning lady is coming today so getting up early is a great time to do all the cleaning it takes to prepare our house for the cleaning lady.  Some of you know what I mean and others just wish they knew.  When I worked full-time and owned the store, cleaning my house was something I could never get to.  Now that I have nothing to do, it’s something that I have worked hard for 45 years for and plan to continue.  There’s nothing better than your house smelling clean and fresh and knowing that you didn’t have to do it yourself.  Some people splurge on mani/pedis and I have my house cleaned.  My goal is to always stay in shape to the extent that I will be able to paint my own toenails.  Feeling that my feet are my most notable point of interest on my body; I like to keep them looking good.  If I can keep them looking at my feet; they might not notice my thickening middle!

I might mention that today is also Friday the 13th.  While I don’t like to let this type of thing bother me, the jury is out on today.  While getting ready for his walk, Scott excitedly told me to look out the back window.  There was a skunk, dragging a dead rabbit across the lawn.  Better yet, it dragged it over to the porch and under the hot tub deck.  Who knew that skunks ate rabbits?  If that’s the case, they probably eat rubber fish too.  As much as social media and technology are my nemesis; at least we know where to turn to find out how to eradicate a skunk under the deck.  I smell a story brewing; stay tuned!

Golden Girls 2.024-1

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Winter has arrived!  Time to get out of Michigan if you can.  For as long as I can remember, I have been one of those people that take leaving on vacation to the extreme.  Washing every piece of clothing I own, running the dishwasher at the very last minute and cleaning the refrigerator.  Guaranteeing that if I were to not make it home, my family would at least find a clean house.  In addition to a cleaning frenzy; there has always been 101 things I needed to do to cover my job(s).  Usually leading me to question whether being gone for a few days was really going to be worth all the work it took to get there.  Not to mention the agony of playing catch-up when you return.  Sound familiar?

I just enjoyed a week in the Florida Keys with four other retired women.  I must say it was very different from my previous vacations.  For one thing, I only had to worry about myself.  That itself was pretty nice after the last two years.  I also had a limited number of things to do beforehand.  With the business sold, I still prepared my final 941, W-2’s and 1099’s before I left but no more worries about customers, ordering, scheduling and payroll.  Excellent!  I did all the laundry but left the dishes and refrigerator since Scott was staying home.  Baby steps.   

Friday arrived and the adventure began with the alarm went off at 2:30 a.m. The flight to Miami, then to Key West was originally scheduled to leave at 9:00 a.m. but was pushed up to 6:00 a.m. to avoid the threat of the incoming storm of the year.  Two gals had booked a different flight stopping first in Chicago.  The airline decided against flying into the eye of the storm and rerouted to Newark; with the change leaving one of my girls in the dust and one on the new flight arriving in Key West five hours later than me.  So much for planning.  I think it was then that I realized that I wasn’t going to worry about it.  I would get there when I got there and there was no reason to fret – I was retired.  Even better, if we were unable to return because of the storms, that didn’t matter either.  We were all retired!

Ultimately, two of them picked me up at the airport and the other arrived only an hour or so after me.  Sadly, our fifth gal didn’t have it so easy.  She made it out the next afternoon but after several delays her plane left Grand Rapids at the same time her connecting flight to the Keys was leaving from Newark.  The plus-side was a comped hotel room with food and drink vouchers.  She finally arrived on Sunday.  Let the party begin!

4 of the 5 Golden Girls 2.024-1 Rocking our colorful cover-ups

Vacationing as an “elder” being, is much like vacationing as a toddler.  Rising early; eating, swimming, napping, eating some more.  Then going to bed early.  And after consuming copious amounts of liquids throughout the day; getting up during the night to use the bathroom.   We enjoyed the sun rising through the palm trees over the channel, followed by breakfast prepared by our hostess’s husband.  Her newest grandchild and his parents joined us for breakfast and provided us with lots of time to soak up all the joy that a baby can bring to a room full of grandmothers.  Eventually shedding our vacation “mu-mu’s” for swimsuits and hitting the pool. 

Being January, it was still a little cooler there.  We ended up with two good sun tanning days.  That’s still two more than they had at home.  We had lots of laughs.  Most of them at our own expense.  Imagine five mature women with similar “generous” builds.  All with shades of hair ranging from golden blond to grey; all bobbing in the pool.  Hoping that a little water aerobics would zero out the snacks and beverages we seemed to have in front of us at all times.  Enter the baby.  We all go bobbing to the other end of the pool to welcome him. Talking baby talk, all vying for his attention in hopes of being the first to bring a smile to his face or hear him giggle.   This is where we are at.  We joked that when he is old enough to go to the zoo or aquarium, he will be asking where the tank of old ladies is!  Maybe you had to be there; but it was funny. 

My special friend Ellen with one of her precious grandbabies

Along with the daily struggles of what bathing suit will I wear today was the need for lists.  Remember back when you used to make lists of things you had to do?  Or lists of great ideas that you want to develop into reality some day when life slowed down?  Those aren’t the lists we were making.  We actually took pen to paper for our grocery list.  Call it pride, but we couldn’t bring ourselves to write down our second list.  You know the one – hey when you go in the house – can you bring me……. With beverages and such happening, it was only a matter of time before someone had to dry off and go upstairs to the bathroom or refill a beverage or snack tray.  We probably managed half of what we went in for and passed the responsibility on to the next person.  CRS is real at this stage of life.   But it’s vacation, so who cares. 

Another challenge with traveling with five mature ladies is the ever-present reality that one of us has to sit in the way back.  And more importantly, be able to extract themselves when we get to our next location.  As the youngest, that fell to me a few times and I was grateful to have been doing chair yoga since the new year.   I won’t even go into the exorbinate amount of time it took us to get ready to load up and go any where. I think they call it herding cats? 

Participants weathered additional scheduling changes but as before, we all made adjustments and carried on.  In between eating and swimming we did some shopping and took a couple boat rides.  We ended our trip with a stay in a hotel on the beach in South Miami.  Probably not something I would recommend unless you can stay up past 9 p.m. to enjoy the night life. What they get for those rooms is crazy but it was an fun experience and we can say we did it. 

My greatest blunder happened during the last leg of the journey.  After about 30 minutes in the TSA line, I decided it was time to pull out my electronic boarding pass.  A method I never use because my phone is typically dead every time I really need it.  With no printer in our hotel room, I decided it was time to make sure my phone was fully charged and give technology a try.  Live on the edge.  And fall off the cliff.  As you are probably surmising, my phone was no where to be found.  I exit the line and tear apart my bag, frantically looking for my phone.  Nothing.  A lady offered to call me; we heard nothing.  Hopefully the girls would hear it ringing in the back seat and realize that I had left it.  I decide to try and print a boarding pass with my passport.  Nope, can’t do it without your flight confirmation code.  So off to join the check-in lane.  With the whole world gone electronic, I realize there are no clocks in the airport. I guess knowing the time won’t speed up the line any way. Retrospectively, I was pretty chill for someone who didn’t have a phone to communicate with anyone and was most likely going to miss their flight.  Partly due to the fact that I never saw the notification that the flight was moved up and we had gotten there late to boot.  Now had I also lost my glasses and passport; that would have been a much different story. 

I finally made it to the front of the line and explained that I had lost my phone and therefore also my boarding pass.  She cheerfully reported that she could print one since I had my identification.  Perfect.  Then she pulls up my flight.  She makes an interesting face and says “You do know that your flight leaves at 12:25?”  Well that might be but, still, here I am.  What do you suggest?    Good news was that I wasn’t planning on checking a bag and it was too late any way.  She quickly scanned the room and said – follow me.  She rounded the service counter and briskly walked me over to the front of the TSA line and told them that I had to go – now.  She adds, “After you’re through TSA, take a left.  With the tram down, it’s a bit of a hike. If you keep moving, hopefully you will make it.”  In my flip flops.  Perfect. Despite it all, I made it; and my phone arrived back in Michigan on Wednesday. It was of course promised to arrive by Monday. Again, not that it matters; I’m retired!   Que, Sera, Sera. I think it’s finally sinking in!