Thanksgiving dinner at camp... chicken from the smoker, potatoes and tomatoes fresh from The Palace garden.
Here's tonight's view from the lakeside bar. It's as nice a September 2nd evening as I can imagine.
Smoked ribs and corn meal muffins, hot tub, wine, moonlight, beautiful background music, loon songs sung sweet from the water... Grace takes her role as a bird dog seriously. Here's where I discovered her this morning - perched in my bird watching chair, staring out the window.
Cat thinks we should have a discussion... Sitting at the lakeside bar. Mellow evening. Ribs and corn on the cob finishing up in the barbeque. Wine sliding smoothly.
"Thumbnails need a trim," I whispered to myself. “I should go get the clippers.” A quick trip to the medicine cabinet for the clippers... found myself wondering why I was perched atop the composting toilet, looking out the window, admiring the view. A couple minutes later I was back at the lakeside bar. Still a beautiful mellow evening. Wine sipping sweetly. "Thumbnails need a trim," I whispered to myself. "I should go get the clippers." It's a New Orleans jazz kind of night at the lakeside bar.
Between thunderstorms, the music and ambience are breathtaking. I wonder if anyone listens to Johnny Mathis these days.
In my mind, his music is among the most sensuous I have ever heard. Tonight I daydreamed by the lake at dusk with the beauty of his songs. Soggy socks and this stash of backyard rocks brought a smile and a tear and a wash of pleasant thoughts.
Today was wet and rainy. Cool - downright cold for mid July - and just perfect for a cigar and bottle of wine in my basement corner we call the Havana Lounge, an out of the way, neglected piece of the house, hidden by treasures Mary calls junk, but that I think we might want some day. It's a pleasant place, out of sight, out of mind more or less, with a window looking out over the lake. Partway though my quiet session of smoke and spirits this afternoon, nature nudged me for the inevitable call to action. Stepping ouchie-barefooted outside, rejecting the stair-climb to the main floor bathroom, I stumbled upon this pile of rocks in a rarely visited part of the yard. My girl Rosie, Springer Spaniel, spent her life digging rocks from the lake bed and presenting them to us. I have never been able to use a lawnmower because of her gifts in the yard, and never really appreciated her offerings of hard stones on my pillow. But, a pee in the rain today kindled kind thoughts and warm memories. "Rosie, you're going to wreck your teeth - and my lawnmower. Put that stupid rock down." Wish I could see her wagging tail and smiling face one more time. Tonight's view from the Palace. A dream come true for me - celebrating my 49th year as a Canadian resident and my 44th year as a Canadian citizen.
Happy Canada Day, my friends. And Happy Fourth of July my U.S. family and friends. I will never forget, nor regret, my beginnings. |
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