Lost in Color

 

My favorite time of year in Wisconsin; blustery Fall days filled with changing colors and dropping leaves and tangy foliage smells.

As Marc got back from his trip west, I joined him for a final five days up north with us doing a huge push to try and erect the RV shed. It is a steel kit building and putting it together single handedly was a nightmare for Marc. First, he had to fashion a makeshift way to lift the heavy arches and carry them to the foundation walls and get them to fit together. He did this by using the wench on the Mule; made higher by parking it on the flatbed trailer, where he fashioned a tall brace. Throughout the process I occasionally was of use to him, but basically served as the gofer and the safety monitor in the event he fell from the 14 foot heights he was working at off ladders and scaffolding.

After three long and full days in freezing temps and wind, we just managed to get it done the day before leaving. This at least allows us to leave the RV there all winter so Marc only had to haul back the Mule and on another trip, the pontoon boat, for storage in Waupaca. 

Although I didn’t have the chance to take any drives to do some photography, I did manage to catch some color around our property. It became even more beautiful with the daily changes and the rainfalls of leaves and pine needles cascading down totally covering the ground.

 

Finally, on Marc’s last trip up, he got caught in the season’s first snowfall; a harsh change from the beautiful summer and Fall scenes just a few short days before. She’s all put to bed and ready for her long winter’s slumber.

PS: Although these photos were taken by Marc during July, they were just too beautiful not to include, since the sunset colors are just like Fall’s. The comparison to Fall’s bog shots allow you to see the seasonal changes to the bracken that occur. Spending time here truly allows us to live in and with nature like nowhere else we’ve ever lived. God, I love it.

 

 

Younger Brother: Another Personal Tragedy

Less than two weeks from the anniversary of my mother’s death, I got a call late one afternoon from the Oregon police that they had done a welfare check (at his x-wife’s request) of my brother and found him deceased, relaxed back in his recliner with a non-lit cigarette in his hand. About three weeks earlier he had just turned 67. 

My brother led a very convoluted lifestyle; on the one hand he was a lifetime heavy smoker, drug-taker, long haired biker. He never took care of himself. However, in his way, he tried to take care of my mother after my father passed, living on her property free of charge but overseeing that things were done for her. Our entire lifetime had been contentious and rarely had we gotten along; we were as different as night and day. I never understood how someone so “out there” could be part of our hard-working, moral family. There certainly was no love loss. 

That changed just a little as we were forced to come together last year to get all the necessities done for our mother in putting her to rest and disposing of her estate. I remember him hugging me goodbye as we left Bend, in his leather jacket, laughing and saying “Well, we made it through, Sis; my friends were making bets we’d kill each other!” For that short few weeks, we had worked pretty well together given our past history. 

When he bought a fixer upper out of the proceeds of her estate, he tried hard to bring it up to snuff. He replaced all the flooring, did interior and exterior painting, installed new appliances and even hung pictures on the walls. From all accounts, he was very proud—this was his first time owning real estate. 

I bent over backward during the past year to respond to him when he reached out for comfort, advice and the final closing of the bank accounts after all mom’s bills had been paid. We had seemed to come to an uneasy understanding that we both suffered from her loss and maybe that alone would be the tie that binds into our future going forward. Not really love, nor hate, kind of a netherworld of knowing we’d likely never see one another again but still having that vestige of shared common parenthood and childhood memories that bound us together till death. 

His death came as a shock, but then again, given his lifestyle, not really. It does come as a great hardship for Marc and I however, as there is no one else to step to the plate to handle all that needs done. So, we wrapped up our wonderful summer early up north, just as lumber and trusses were due to be dropped for the garage build, and Marc hightailed it to Oregon. 

I won’t go into the minutia of detail here; it’s been pretty overwhelming, the worst of which is that my brother sat dead in his chair for probably likely over a week. The house reeks of death and much of it may have to be redone; certainly the painting; maybe the flooring. Marc figures he’ll have to make another trip out at some point, but in the meantime the important part of cremating his body, getting the death certificate so we can open probate, etc. is being done. 

That’s all I’m going to say; I’m back with the cats in Waupaca and Marc hopefully can return within a week to ten days. Since we didn’t have the rest of the season to finish our storage buildings up north, he will need to haul the RV back here where a friend lets us store it under cover for winter and he’ll also need to tow the pontoon boat here so we can get it shrink wrapped for winter. The entire timing of our project has been set back by months. 

As in so many other times in life, ya got me again, Brother… 

It’s all just so sad. A chapter closed permanently on what might have been. If you can, rest in peace John.

Happier times; dad’s 87^th birthday in 2009. I didn’t have a more recent photo of John that was better for this remembrance page. 

 

Labor Day Festivities

 

We were so fortunate to enjoy spectacular weather over the holiday period, with several uninterrupted days full of sunshine. Hearing about a restaurant sponsored treasure hunt happening on Saturday on the three interconnected town lakes, I had signed us up thinking it would be a novel endeavor.

We launched at the free boat ramp on the first lake and made our way under the railroad and highway bridges, which with little clearance for our heads, always gives me the heebie-jeebies. Soon after, we turned off the engine, floated and had lunch while we awaited the one o’clock meeting time.

At one, we landed and I went up to get our instructions, along with various other boaters, many in costumes (for which there would be prizes awarded) themselves and their boats. I was amused as I watched from the deck to below as Marc tried to fend off the “Let’s Get Hammered” pontoon from bashing into ours. There was a total of 12 boats in the contest.  

I had misunderstood the premise of the thing, thinking the tokens we were to collect were reached without having to get off the boat so we spent the first hour and a half cruising without success. We finally learned that the tokens were hidden on a board in public places, which in this case meant some of the lake islands or the lakeside bar and grills. With other’s help, we finally managed to obtain three out of six in our allotted 3.5 hours of searching. Oh well, it was a beautiful day for cruising and joining in the joviality with the other boaters.

 

Back at the restaurant, we found that only two boats had obtained all six tokens so they received the best prizes. We ended up getting a bag with some Mardi Gra beads in it, now hanging in the RV as a remembrance of a truly fun day on the water. We finished up by ordering a pizza which we ate on the boat as the sun got lower in the sky.

The next day was our 34^th wedding anniversary and I had suggested to Marc that we should celebrate with a dinner out on our own lake. It was another clear, warm day and we hit the water around four, anchoring off the lake’s lone island to shelter from the wind, set up and lit the BBQ to start the huge sweet onion to cooking. Later would come a steak and fresh farmer’s market corn. The sun was so low in the sky, we ended up hanging a blanket to give us some shade relief as we celebrated with a bottle of Korbel Brut. It was a unique and enjoyable way for us to celebrate.

Coming back in I got a gorgeous picture of our property from the water. This knob hill is the dry portion of our property. So gorgeous!

Holiday play time is over; it’s on with the show. The concrete contractor got the shop slab poured and Marc continues to work on gate posts and gate. The lumber package and roof trusses for the shop should arrive around the 19^th of the month, which will be the next big thing to occur.

 

(In case you're wondering about those poles, they have to do with our water system. The orange pipe is the water outlet from the well head about 20 feet away. The other will go to our pressure tanks and water conditioner system. All will be enclosed in a small insulated room with everything easily draining back in winter so no pipes are left with any water to freeze if we go away and it makes it very convenient to winterize if we come and go.)