(With a nod to the Mama and the Papas for this title.) Of course, not the tree leaves so much, but the soybean leaves and the cornstalk leaves. Harvest time is right around the corner.
Mimi is halfway through her marathon babysitting project at Victoria Lane, and holding up pretty well. Some strategic diversion this afternoon gave her a bit of relief. Red badge of courage to be awarded tomorrow.
Not exactly the view out over the North channel of Lake Huron, but, still, somehow, up-lifting—a small bowl of lawn surrounded by a wall of green: oak, cedar, apple, ash, locust, willow, redbud, serviceberry, lilac, balsam, hemlock, dogwood, and even buckthorn. Of course, the foliage does nothing to keep out noise, so instead of waves and wind we have sirens and motorcycles. But, I must say, tonight, the crickets are so loud all manmade noise is superfluous.
I do so like sitting out on the back patio, of an evening.
And here is the September view of the prairie that previously was a flat field of ash.
Victoria Lane and Bywater Lane
...and appled and tomatoed.
The yard and garden actually produced some pretty good crops—in spite of absolute neglect. Quite a few squash, both butternut AND, the darling of my dreams, Oregon Homestead Sweet Meat, though our instances seem a bit smaller than advertised. (This could be because Vi's tree didn't fall down until mid summer so sunlight might have been somewhat restricted.)
Another bumper crop of apples, rather good ones, too, on the world's ugliest tree—never even a proper prune in all its lonely life. (I have to think the pollination is coming from Vi's magnificent Waterfalls crab.) And tomatoes like you wouldn't believe, or at least I wouldn't, considering.
So, it's going to be lots of soup and lots of pies, and maybe a few other dishes.
This morning, after Katy went to school (which she loves)(although she didn't want, for some reason, to go this morning), Will and I took a bike ride to Doctor's Park where we took the trail down to the beach and spent an hour combing it. Big wind and big surf and we had fun avoiding the rogues as they chased up the shore, sometimes catching us and soaking our shoes. Unfortunately, as Will said, the wind took our voices away and we had to shout to each other to be heard. After the beach, we had a good time at the playground, and then a fine ride back to 1404 Bywater Lane, both of us pedaling hard using all our super powers and remaining energy.
To Madison in the p.m. to visit Niki—and then back to Whitewater (which, while not Kagawong, and not Oconomowoc, and not Fox Point—is still somewhat acceptable) to find everything looking good and holding together. And then there's the garden, and the squash and apples and tomatoes.
Soo Locks
Destination, Bywater Lane, Fox Point.
The season turns.
Last night, on the porch, reading in pools of light while listening to the wind thrashing trough the treetops as the rainstorm gave way to a cold front. Wild west wind most of today too, as might be expected, which made us glad to be working on settling Heliotrope into her winter berth, high and dry.
Bright, windy day, cool and less humid. One of those days when all of a sudden it seems that summer might have morphed into fall.
The natural quiet has returned. We are suddenly more remote. Pax and I can once again enjoy the expansive freedom of going wherever we want without running into anyone (or any dog).
Tonight for dinner, green beans, beets, and tomatoes from the garden, along with corn from farmer Ken and ground beef from Burt farm. Talk about locavorism!
Packing up and loading up for Wisconsin departure early tomorrow.
Oh, and I forgot: Ontario peaches baked in a pie (by ME).
Boat to Norm for haul-out this morning. Heavy rain this afternoon. BLT's for dinner seeing as we now have a surplus of tomatoes, though harvesting looks to be a damp business.
...on Heliotrope.
Cloudy, very warm and very humid, but with some wind. About 3:30 we decided to take the big boat for one last sail, and when we got to Gore Bay it was sunny, hot, humid, and nearly windless. We got about half way out the bay when we abandoned ship due to overheating. The water was deliciously cold.
Back at the cottage we noticed Lollipop out on Mudge, ghosting along in the hot sun. They are on sail number 15, I believe (they count), so are maintaining their lead over us. Today we were hot on their heels.
Out of the wind and in the sun—hot, hot, hot. Along the shore, in the shade, perfect. Summer hangs on, though change is in the offing.
After noon, to Gore Bay and the boat, where Patrick joined us to complete the re-installation of the starboard spreader light. After all, job well done, and when the lights were tested, both came on—for a few seconds before both went off. Anyway, neither spreader light is going to fall off and bean some unwary seafarer, and the next time the spars come down (which may be this season) all wiring issues will be thoroughly investigated and remediated.
After the the repair work, with Patrick off to pick up Rachel from her job at CYC, we jumped overboard into a very chilly Gore Bay, and then, after emergence, sat, in the cockpit, basking in the warm afternoon sun and the brisk south wind—having a sip of something, and looking around at quite a few others similarly engaged, and feeling right back home in the cruising life.
But then we came back home to a cottage, and were more than glad about being able to do that.
