I'm BAAAAAAAACK.

Oh, internets. I know I've been gone a long time. Not a single post in August? How is this possible? Ah. Well, I've been busy. Let's sum up, shall we? 

First, Jess and I have been working on helping Myra empty out her house. Mostly what's left is the bits and pieces of spending 38 years in one place: dust bunnies, her massive jigsaw puzzle collection, some canned goods that are too old to recognize, much less eat. 

And then there's this. A mason jar full of ammunition. This is the kind of thing the basement used to be full of, in various ways, but most of that got cleaned out after the flood of '97. So here we are, ten years since Dad died, 26 years since he used any sort of gun, with a mason jar full of bullets & shells. You can't just throw this stuff away, you know.

So we brought it to Mike, Hendrum's lone police officer. The thing I love about Hendrum is it's pretty simple. Got a jar full of live ammo? I know just the guy to give it to. When we showed up on his doorstep, offering him this odd, potentially dangerous gift, he just grinned at us and said he'd take care of it. "Some of these are still good, I think," he told us. "Have fun," we told him.

 V and I have spent as much time as we can out at the lake. Here we are playing Bingo in Nevis, wearing our "What Happens in Nevis Stays in Nevis" shirts. It was a good day.

 And we've enjoyed the company of V's cousins. Pictured below is Jake, who has decided that as a superhero, he wants to be ToiletMan. You don't want to know ToiletMan's weapon of choice. (And I can't explain why he's holding a stuffed fish, either, so don't ask). Jake is just 6 months younger than V, and hilarious and strong-willed. That may run in one or all of our families.

 In unrelated news, Shaun got a new job several weeks ago, so he's no longer working nights! It's good to have him back in the land of the living, and it's really the best job he's had in over a decade, in terms of the work & hours. Perhaps that's why he looks so dang happy.

I have other posts in mind, and though it was an unscheduled and prolonged break, I hope you'll forgive me, gentle readers. It's good to be back.

The Mean Reds

I know it's been a long, long time, gentle readers. I'm sorry. I think everyday about blogging, but each idea seems to have already been done, or seems to require more energy than I have to offer. Today I decided I've had a bad case of the Mean Reds, and now that I've diagnosed myself, I can hopefully figure out where to go to calm myself down.

V likes to hang on bars in a dress her grandmother brought her from Mexico. She's quite the little gymnast lately, and has conquered monkey bars from here to Duluth.

V also likes to be pulled behind a kayak, preferably one paddled by her other grandmother. Lake Belle Taine has been a source of much joy for us this summer, even more than usual.

There's no real reason for this latest funk (aside from it being how I'm wired and all): we are all relatively healthy and Shaun starts a new (non-gas station, hopefully not only overnights; not that there's anything wrong with either of those things...) job on Monday. My summer class is the kind teachers dream of: 13 very diverse students, each one committed to learning and engaged in the work we're doing together. V is loving every second of summer and even Seven seems to be having a good time. It just is.

I'll work on untangling myself, and keep taking V swimming (above, at Great Aunt Linda and Great Uncle Ken's hotel in Fargo this week), and keep thinking about blogging. May your own mean reds stay far away, or come take mine on a vacation of some sort.

Ten years

Jess played "You are My Sunshine" on her guitar as my parents and I walked up the driveway into our backyard. Beth and Steve read for us, and Pastor Tim performed the ceremony. Afterwards, we all went out to  dinner to Timberlodge Steakhouse, and Shaun and I stayed in a Honeymoon Suite at Expressway Inn that I'd won at the wedding expo in January.  It was a fantastic day.

We all look like babies to me, now.

 Ten years ago today. It really doesn't seem like it's been a decade at all.

Then again, it feels like we've always been together. In a good way, I mean. I can't really remember life before. 

So much has changed for us, and our families. And marriage is hard, hard work sometimes. But this photo here, my favorite of them all, is still who we are.  Two dorks who really love each other very much. He is my sunshine, indeed.

For more photos and nostalgia, see here, or here. Or come on over and look at our photo albums.

Name that flower!

I took pictures of some wildflowers this weekend, but I only know the name of one of them.  Why don't you show off your vast plant knowledge and educate me?

I think they're all pretty awesome, whatever they're called. As I came up out of the ditch, a woman walked by and said "You know, that ditch is full of poison ivy." Thanks for the (too late) heads up, lady. Still, I must've avoided those nasty leaves of three, because nothing itches today. And the ditch is clearly not FULL of poison ivy, because if it were, there would be no room for those pretty flowers.

First swim

The new yellow swimsuit, in action yesterday at Lake Belle Taine. It was windy and cool but she was sure she'd have fun. 

 She was right. 

 It was lovely weather for ducks, too. 

Seven looked on with concern. 

About ten minutes after she got out of the lake, the thunderstorms began, and stayed the rest of the weekend. I hope it wasn't because we offended Mother Nature by swimming before Memorial Day.

Naked Face (with an obscene gesture warning)

The truth is, all three of my long-term romantic relationships were with brown-haired men with red beards. I dated Tom, off and on, for over 8 years (there's a post about him coming up soon, too). We started dating when I was 14 and he was 15, so I didn't know he had a red beard at the time, but by the end, he'd been bearded for a good while. A year later, when I brought Matt home to Hendrum for the first time, Sam at the gas station said "Is that Tom in the car with you??" Um, awkward...No, Sam. That's my new boyfriend who just happens to look like Tom.

It turns out the third time's the charm.

Shaun and I first met because of Dan & Tenessa. Dan and Shaun worked together at WDAY, a local newstation, and I was in D & T's apartment one day (they lived just above me) and saw a photo of this handsome young man with dark hair and a red beard. "He's cute," I said.Tenessa's cupid sensor lit up and they told me about this Shaun Ganyo fellow. I liked him long before we met.

 He had a beard when we started dating. During the 2 1/2 years before we got married, he sometimes went down to a goatee, and shaved it off totally just once. I prefer the beard. My favorite look of his is above, with short hair and a ridiculously long beard. People tend to come up to him and ask stupid questions about it, when it's that long. It makes me happy.

Mostly, he has a beard because he's lazy. Shaving takes work, apparently. But every now and again, he gets his monstrous beard trimmed, or I trim it. Above is Christmas this year. I think we trimmed it because the weekend before we'd gone to his parents' house, and his mom really, really likes it when his beard isn't too crazy.

One of the first things we talked about when he got fired was him shaving his beard. He hasn't shaved it off in over ten years; V's never seen him without it, and we've established I have a clear preference. And he's still lazy. I talked him into keeping the beard, but cutting it way back, to a reasonable length. Above is a couple of weeks ago, out at the lake. Well-groomed, non-ZZTop-ish. 

 But he hasn't gotten a job yet. And he read something online that said bearded men are less likely to be chosen in a job search when cleanshaven men are also applying. So I gave in and said he could shave it. Last night, with V's help, he cut off the well-groomed red and gray whiskers. In trying to get a picture of him cleanshaven, though, he refused to let me see him unless he was flipping the camera off. So my apologies, gentle readers, for the delicate among you.

But here he is. Would you hire this guy? Would you marry him? 

Here's hoping it unlocks all kinds of employment opportunities. V just calls him "Naked Faced Daddy" now, but if we can call him employed, it will all have been worth it. Besides, it'll grow back right quick, once he's securely working and they like him too much to let him go.

Just like me.



Dawn at Belle Taine

Sunsets on Lake Belle Taine are well documented (in each of those links, the sunset comes at the end). My brother-in-law, Steve, used to make fun of me for taking photos of the sunset, because it's been done approximately 18 million times since the in-laws have lived there. But I don't care. Every sunset is different, and some are breathtaking and I don't care if it's the same three trees in every photo.

 But at the lake this December, with the lovely late December sunrise and early-to-rise children, plus a dog who needs outside time right away every morning, I was able to wander out with my camera to the backyard, and caputure a lovely cold sunrise.

If nothing else, you get to see some different trees. 

A story with no discernible moral (and sadly, no photos).

About three miles before V, Seven, and I arrived at the in-laws lake home today, V cried from the backseat "I spilled! Oh!" I glanced back to see a large puddle (nearly a pool) of chocolate milk, rapidly moving toward our white dog. For some insane reason, I travel without a full sized bath towel in the front seat, so there was nothing I could do. V was upset, though, and not just because she'd lost the last cup (or more) of her chocolate milk. "Aaah!" What now? "He's DRINKING IT!" Good. Maybe he'll soak less of it into his tail that way.

But as we got out of the car, it was clear that a full half of the dog's fur was chocolatey down to the skin. Now, at our house, I probably would've toweled him off and called it good, but, you know, the in-laws might notice a chocolate milk coating on their carpet and sofa, and their two dogs would certainly notice Seven's new hairdo.

What to do? There was no choice: get V to don her swimsuit, and then toss the dog in after her. He promptly ran out, but I caught him, we washed him, and now he's all fluffy, lake-scented dogginess, with just a hint of chocolate. Yum, yum.

Happy end of summer, y'all.

Holiday Weekend in Nine Photos

Lakeside wildlife: navy worms

I had never seen these creatures until a few years ago: I'm told they're called Navy worms.

 Navy worm on the left; ant on the right. Perhaps they're in love.

Whatever the name, they are EVERYWHERE at the lake again this year. They cluster at corners of the fence, climb up onto cars, and fall out of the trees like wiggling raindrops. Voracious eaters of leaves, they don't seem to be interested in biting any other living thing.

They are a little creepy, especially in such large numbers, and the expansive damage they leave behind is massive, but up close I find them kind of, dare I say, cute.

I'm probably going to regret that one day, when the world is taken over by navy worms, and all the trees die, and they turn to eating humans. Until then, though, they make fun photo subjects.

What we're enjoying right now....

 Backyard wildlife.

 Visiting the in-laws.

Soft pupdog cuddling.

Hope your June is going beautifully.

Mother's Day Loveliness

It rained. And rained.

But it wasn't terribly cold, and the kids were good, and the dogs weren't too crazy, and nobody got particularly pissed off. That's a good weekend at the lake, if you ask me.

When the sun did come out, the cousins were ready to soak it up.

After eight months away, it was good to come back to the lake, with so many people we love, and celebrate a brave, cancer-free mama/grandma/mama-in-law.

Beth and I found this very, very special carnation for her. And I think it really made her day complete.

Hope you're finding sunshine between the rainstorms this week. 

Snow

My father-in-law David suggested these mini-snow drifts, atop the shed door, to me. I hadn't noticed them (she said embarrassedly). They are the mushrooms of wintertime, don't you think?

To get good outdoor shots, sometimes a photographer has to be willing to get dirty. Or wet. Or cold. Or frostbitten. At one point (for one of the pine shots in the "Trees" post) I was standing mid-thigh-deep in snow. And I was not dressed for it. See what I endure for my art? My poor Dansko boots will probably never fully recover. I had to shake the snow out of my socks afterwards, too. It was worth it for you, gentle readers. I think.

I take a lot of photos like this, trying to capture the snow of the front yard, lakeside. It doesn't really work: my photos don't capture the depth and sculptural qualities that 18" of snow has on a lot full of trees. I like the shadows here, though.

 Winter mushrooms. Thanks, Dave.

Frost

Yesterday morning at the lake was foggy and frosty, though not terribly cold. I worried the sky was too grey for good photos, but it seems to have made the photos just seem a little frostier.

I assume the fact that the circle is off center here is because of the developer, not the photographer (ahem), but I may be wrong. In these four, the black frame seems more distracting than in the last post, though, and it's the off-centeredness that seems to be key here. I dunno. What say you?