Gone to the Unseen

Spring and summer have come and gone at Loveless Lake, and I will forever think of this as my lost year.

My mother suddenly became sick this spring and died in mid-September. Her death came about a month after Chipper’s and a year after my Dad’s.

I had planned to get Mom up to Loveless for her 82^nd birthday in August, but it wasn’t meant to be. Chipper gave us three bonus months and we squeezed in a few more naps in the weeHouse. And I’m grateful my parents were able to see the place when it was nothing but a dream.

At last you have departed and gone to the Unseen.
What marvelous route did you take from this world?

                                                                             -   Rumi

A visit to Loveless October 2011 before the arrival of the weeHouse.

Chipper made a great life even better.

Coming in for a landing

It only looks like fall.

Well, there’s spring, and then there’s spring in the North Country. It does take a while in these parts to warm up. Forget the white shoes at Easter. Often we’re still tromping about in mukluks. Memorial Day? Generally we're wearing galoshes or hanging about our outdoor fire pits.

Once the snow melted at Loveless, Chris and I decided to build a little hangout spot on the sunny side of the lot, as we’re still trying to use up the awesome pieces of cedar decking that came with the weeHouse. Our new landing has quickly become one of our favorite places to absorb some Vitamin D and daydream.

Longtime blog readers will recall that we used several pieces of this awesome decking to construct our one-of-a-kind Saturn walkway/bridge (which you can read about here). The walkway remains one of the coolest parts of our project.

That other jumble of stuff visible over Chris’ shoulder is the last of the decking, which, admittedly, has become something of an eyesore. I’m noodling on several ideas for its next life: a second landing  closer to Loveless Lake (because we like our first experiment so much); a meandering pathway from the landing down the hill;  a fence to shield the septic tank or the propane tank from view; and ...

For now the ideas are stuck in my always-thinkin’-‘bout-Loveless noggin. In the real world, we’re enjoying Chipper’s remaining days and time in the sun.

Writer's loft

Daybreak at Loveless Lake.

My pal, Steve,  needed a get-away to focus on a writing project and Loveless was there for him. He now holds the record for the longest uninterrupted stay there -- six nights -- and I’m ever so slightly envious.

Of course that also means six sunrises and plenty of room for surprises. While there, Steve enjoyed a fluffy spring snowstorm from the windowed weeHouse and drank in the countryside by the light of a full moon. Best of all, Steve reports he got a lot of work done.

Said Chris: "He's living your dream."

The First Family

My former next door neighbors and their artistic 7-year-old daughter came for an overnight last weekend to partake in the annual Balsam Lake WinterFest, and it couldn’t have been more fun.

True to their word, they were able to manage the drywall-dust-filled bedroom and the still-under-construction bathroom under the guise of “adventure.” We enjoyed meals and games in the weeHouse and visited like old times in front of a fire.

Chris made a stunning return to the snowshoe race with his ever-popular “Beer Man” costume. Doug helped me figure out multiple equipment malfunctions and was a good sport about finishing … ahem ... dead last.

Bringing up the rear gave us a chance to catch up with our favorite politician, lakeshore activist and snowshoe race volunteer, Carl Holmgren (whom I couldn’t vote for even if I COULD vote in Wisconsin because my address is a just a smidgen outside his district).

While Doug, the Beer Man and I were traipsing through the woods, Katie and Liv were exploring city parks and enjoying the winter spectacle in the countryside.

For this awesome visit, and years of outstanding service and support, they’ve earned the superlative title as the Loveless First Family.

Eat your heart out Obamas.

 

 

Jackie, Liv, Chris

Blast from the past

We're already making plans to ditch work and the Twin Cities for the Balsam Lake WinterFest, where Chris and his costumes are a big hit. It's usually colder than all get-out, but we find a way to partake in the revelry, which includes minnow races, a pond hockey tournament and ice drag racing on the lake.

Chris recently discovered this gem of a photo (courtesy Now and Then Photography) from the first snowshoe "race" in 2013. Participation doubled in year two, even though they didn't have the booya pots going. 

Charter members of the snowshoe race. We all got lovely pieces of pottery as prizes.