Sailing on Schooner Manitou

If you click on the image you can see the Schooner Manitou away in the distance on Grand Traverse Bay in Michigan. Seeing that ship suggested that we ought to sail on it ourselves. Two days later we did just that, and here some pictures taken in sequence with annotations here and there.

That's John helping to loft the sail!

And Monique watching the sail’s progress as it rises.

Or is she, instead, watching one of the crew climbing to the top of the main mast intending there to loft the main gaff topsail?

There it is, unfurled, but now seen from the port side instead.

For a while there Monique was much taken with the heights. You see her reclining on the starboard side (must stay with sea lingo here), camera ready to catch the unexpected.

Yes, she saw something. And John on the left (port) is looking at the same development. The maddening thing about being on a great boat is that it is so difficult to see it in the whole.

Brigitte, meanwhile was taking in the view. She is visible on the right.

Here a view from the forward hold up—this compartment being the one where the crew spend their nights.

And that’s me, having clambered back up, looking the way I normally do, unedited, now intently observing our captain in her most efficient handling of the boat as we prepared for another tack.

Then off to sail the blue waters of the Great Lakes...

The trip ended, at last, in a leisurely manner. You see Brigitte, Monique, and John relaxing. The sails have been lowered. We made two attempts to dock before succeeding; a sharp off-shore wind prevented our crew from throwing rope to the shore to hold us.

Therefore we had time to enjoy the experience, others to display spontaneous affection. Finally...

We said goodby to sky-blue waters, for the time being. But we shall return...

The Algonquian word for a Spirit Being is manitou. There are many, invisible, but yet they are associated now with animals, now with islands, now with trees—and sometimes with things like sailing schooners. But they are real, real persons, and you can relate to them. Yes. In a way, on this vacation trip, we found that out too.

Be-Quinced

Here is our quince bush shortly after its planting, the photo taken on June 28th.

Here is the same plant, although the picture is taken from the other side, taken today, thus twenty days later. Notice that the very full bush in the previous photo has thinned out tremendeously. I should have taken a picture of the intermediate stage. In that stage most of the leaves now gone had turned brown and shrivelled up. If you look closely, you can see them littering the ground neath the bush.

Some of the new growth is now also either turning yellow or showing little brown tips, as in the close-up above.

The worst of it is that Monique's quince bush is now showing nothing but brown leaves, leaving us, at both sides of the Metro, anxious.

I've discovered so far (these are all possibilities from the Internet) that (1) we may have over-watered, but that the consequence may not be fatal; roots are over-saturated and can't get any oxygen or nutrition; (2) that quince plants are temperamental and do sometimes loose all of their leaves in June and July—only to recover them later; and (3) that replanting-shock in some cases and energy expended in other cases exhaust the plant temporarily. In any case, stay tuned...

I am also not entirely sure of the actual species we have planted. Possibilities are that we have Cydonia oblonga, quince, or that we have Chaenomeles speciosa, the flowering quince, which is an Asian variant. The first got its name from a place on Crete called Kydonia—and is the variety widely grown in Europe. The leaves, at any rate, look like Cydonia.

Where are the Pontoon Pirates?

We have been looking and looking, watching the horizon every day in hopes of spotting them. It is, after all, summer here on Wolverine Lake.


The fish are jumping and so are the fireworks.


And everyone is wondering, where are the Pontoon Pirates? We have all been out searching the lake, day....


and night, but to no avail.


We were even getting worried that the weed harvester may have gobbled them up! So, we followed that machine carefully for an entire day, watching for any evidence of malicious intent. Luckily, we found none.


Stella keeps a watch on the lake for signs of the Pontoon Pirates' arrival... inbetween a few other activities, like, for example,


cooling off in the lake,


drying off in the sun,


helping to clean and decorate before the July 3rd party,


kayaking and wake boarding,


varnishing a few pieces of furniture,


and tubing behind Wendy's new boat, not to mention playing the guitar, doing some drawing, studying her summer lessons, mowing lawns, and watching old movies with John. But inbetween, she has been keeping a vigilant lookout for those pirates.


Even Katie has gotten into the act of searching for any sign (smell in her case) of the Pontoon Pirates.

We sure hope they arrive soon....

Lake St. Claire

We have a lake of our own too -- although we must use a car to reach it. Here is a glimpse of it:

And another...

And a third.

Behind that scene is our swimming pool where Brigitte frolicks doing aqua-dynamics. Here she is at the beginning of the session, just saying hello to a friend.

And here in the midst of exercises.

Then she noticed me peering through the grating of the cast-iron fence and waved to me. It pleased to be recognized, and I waved back.

Then it was back to work again. So what did I do while Brigitte strengthened body and spirit? I strengthen my powers of observing the world while listening to the distant music.

If you have the time, I have the waves, the birds, and a lazy boat or two.

Stella del Lago

Stella arrived on June 21st and is shown moments after her arrival. But as is the custom, mere moments later, jet lag having fled at seeing her lake, the "Star of the Lake" -- preceded by her instantly appearing enourage -- was taking possession of the waters herself.

Her expression in the third image, which may be just a touch rueful, has something to do with having one's hair cut, known to be an occasion, always of some trauma even to the most exalted among the ladies.

The entourage? The Princesses Alexa and Anna, of course!

Father's Day 2011

Monique has labored hard to restore the front (or is it the back) of the house after the blessed sewerage connection wrought its disturbances. Here is a composite result. Monique was there to greet us on Father’s Day 2011!

John and Mike (from next door) were busy meanwhile rebuilding the dock that had been rammed, wracked, and otherwise brought to abrupt awakeness the summer before by a little mishap that Mike felt responsible for. Here he made amends displaying terrific skills and tooling armaments sufficient to cause the celebrated father of the day, that’s me, to experience transports of envy.

A leisurely afternoon later—interrupted only by a half-harrowing, half-delightful excursion to the biggest (indeed only) dog park I’ve ever seen—far too big to see the fifty or so dogs that were gamboling all around…

We settled down to drink a toast of cranberry juice. Above the hosts…

And here the Father in question!

Gifts—my God—splendid gifts were bestowed on yours unworthy, not least a live quince bush, of which in another post, the by now traditional cigars, and four brand new but no longer manufactured Shaeffer fountain pens, courtesy of e-Bay, no less. Sometimes it seems that the very hard labor that lets you become a father is not just its own reward.

Welcome, Amelia

My name is Amelia Arden Magee. I was born precisely at 11:08 in the morning of June 4, 2011, not a minute too early, not a minute too late, determined to live up to the motto in life I thought up while in Mommy’s womb, which is and shall be: “All in Good Time!”

Here is a splendid family photo — couldn’t have been complete without me. Making a clock-wise circle from noon, my Daddy Michael, my Mommy Cathy, my sister Zoe — all admiring me (Amelia).

Right from the start the comforts of pillows and loving arms to hold me, here those of my Big Sister Zoe who, I think you’ll agree, has motherly talents and an angelic smile! I’m smiling too, but you just can’t see it.

My aunt Monique arrived in good time to keep us all company while I picked the right time to arrive, and I heard them all laughing and having a good time in the kitchen. It was such fun to listen to them, I snuggled in a little deeper and decided to see what might happen next before I arrived.

One thing they did was to show Aunt Monique all of the lovely sights of Wyoming, towering mountains and the rushing of bright sparkling water. I’m glad I picked such a scenic and wonderful place to make home!

Uncle John came too, by airplane, and spent his first evening trying to grasp the deeper meaning of pictures and words on paper, something he is always doing, and always with great success — because he knows how to pick experts to help his own understanding. Here Zoe is lending a hand in Uncle John’s unending education.

To rest up from study, Uncle John helped Daddy out in the yard. They called it “work,” whatever that is, but kept talking about fantasy baseball and fantasy football, whatever they are. I’ll have to ask Zoe to explain it to me. All in Good Time!

Finally, and in perfect time — and I timed it just right just for them — Grandma and Grandpa arrived in Wyoming to see me. And that is my story, the beginning of it. I cannot write yet, never mind the highest form of it, blogging, but I am gifted in the secret arts of telepathic communication (they say it fades as you grow) so I found a receptive member of the family to present all this to you in more or less suitable words.

Amelia Arden Magee