Yesterday, unexpectedly, several online friends sent notes, emails, Facebook messages.
“Where are you? When are you coming back to blogging? We miss you. Are you surviving the winter?”
My heart lurched in appreciation for friends who reappeared out of the woodwork of the Internet with such kindness and concern.
I am rich in what really matters, it seems. Caring friends and family who send snippets of love.
Yet my heart simultaneously sank. May I share why?
Lake Superior stone
Indeed, what a weekend it’s been! What a weekend it’s going to be!
It is the weekend of the Susies.
Specifically, since you asked, Susie Q and Suzi BB.
My Internet Pals, turned Real & In-Person.
First, may I re-introduce Susie Q? I met her back-in-the-days. We met on a spiritual website called Zaadz/Gaia.com, which hath now gone defunct from its original inception. Its new home is anewgaia.ning.com which you can visit if you’re intrigued.
Susie Q and I bonded for many reasons. Mainly, because she hailed from our fair Upper Peninsula, just 45 minutes “up the road” from my Little House in the Big Woods.
We met and gathered stones from Lake Superior. We met and camped under the stars on a sandy beach. We met and connected, yes we did. Click here if you want to read about our camping adventure back in 2010.
Lake just above the dam at Hungarian Falls
Last Saturday evening we traveled with friends to the Hungarian Falls, just north of Hancock, near Dollar Bay.
We aimed to hike by the falls before eating dinner in Calumet at Carmelitas, a Mexican restaurant, where you buy chips and delicious pico de gallo for a buck. If you want, you can buy a Thimbleberry Margarita, not that we did.
To contemplate a never-ending circle
Thirty-five years ago the bridesmaids wore yellow.
A hot yellow sun oven-baked the Methodist church on September 9th, 1978. We sweltered. We sweated.
(OK, maybe it rained. Maybe the bridesmaids wore baby blue and maybe we married in the Presbyterian Church, which would seem more logical, as my family was Presbyterian. Maybe it wasn’t September 9th. Maybe it wasn’t even THAT hot. The truth is my memory of this day feels fuzzy, hazy, hovering almost out of reach. Someone like Christie, my maid-of-honor, would remember. My mom and Barry’s mom would remember. But it’s too early on a Monday morning to call them so you’re just going to get the version that could be the truth. I’m sure it’s the truth.)
It’s 3:30 on Sunday, Labor Day weekend.
Time to make pesto.
Walnuts roast in a 350 degree oven until they smell warm and toasty.
Fresh pungent green basil lies newly picked on the counter ready for drenching in olive oil. Where’s the garlic? Where’s the salt? Where’s the food processor?
Why in the world have I paused to write a blog post in the midst of making pesto?
Posted in September 2013
Tagged autumn, blogging, canning, family, friends, life, personal, pesto, salsa, thoughts, tomatoes
This week one of my friends shared a dream.
In the dream, which she described as half-way between waking and sleeping, feeling so utterly “realistic”, a voice told her: “You have thirty days to live. Get your affairs in order.”
She woke up, heart pounding.
She’s feeling pretty darn nervous.
OK, it might just be a dream.
But what if it’s not?
When visitors come…
In mid-summer the Main Street in our little town buzzes with cars and visitors. People from other locales sometimes drive hundreds of miles north to splash in Lake Superior, to camp in the Baraga State Park, to tour the Copper Country. Our quiet little world turns into a beehive of activity.
I swear there’s never a dull moment in July and August.
Might you be bored? You can pick strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, thimbleberries. You can kayak, fish, swim, canoe, float or sun-bathe. You can plant a garden, or how about drive to the county fair this upcoming weekend? I suppose you’ve already attended the Native American Pow Wow, the 4th of July parades, the Aura Jamboree, and, of course, the Fireman’s Tournament last weekend.
Looks like a Secret Garden
Last week my friend Doris invited me to stop by. We get together every few months at her house. She serves coffee or tea and delicious sweets. Her husband, Howard, usually stops puttering to say hello, pausing at the table to give a big hug and nibble a cookie.
Posted in July 2013
Tagged beauty, friends, friendship, garden, life, love, nature, pink roses, plants, summer, thoughts
The woods at 9 p.m. in mid -June
It looks like it’s snowing here in Upper Michigan as the summer Solstice approaches. In between the green leaves a cascade of white fuzzies fill the sky. The fuzzies pile up on decks, front porches, in between newly planted tomato plants. It’s the Time of the White Fuzzies. It happens every year, no matter what.
Of course, this year the white fuzzies came late, due to our Long Winter and delayed spring. They’re about three weeks late. From what trees do they come? We don’t know. Downstate, where my parents live, the white fuzzies come from cottonwood trees. The fuzzies fill up their garage. But ours come from…well, we don’t know. We don’t have cottonwoods. Perhaps poplar or maple buds? It’s one of those mysteries that someone, someday, will share with us. Then we’ll know the secret of the fuzzies.
Posted in June 2013
Tagged bears, blogging, family, Finn Fest, fish, friends, fuzzies, life, nature, outdoors, thoughts, Upper Peninsula
Can everyone sing the old song, “Make new friends,
but keep the old,
one is silver,
and the other’s gold“?