This was us Sunday morning. Will made sure we were on the water before it got too hot, as we were in the midst of a little summer heat wave.
We’ve been watching RACE TO SURVIVAL: NEW ZEALAND on the USA network. Season 1 was called RACE TO SURVIVAL: ALASKA. Experienced teams with all sorts of endurance training, survival skills, rafting and climbing championships compete in a grueling race to win food, medallions and eventually $500,000.
So here we are, ready to race around the Point. Okay, not really.
I did survive getting in and out of the kayak.
Our “we came in first” photo.
Will likes to take pictures of us so we can prove that we are outdoorsy and athletic.
Will heads back to Texas next Wednesday, so we are planning a few more kayak adventures…and one more trip to town for pie.
Yesterday we left the lake at 7:15 AM in order to deliver Will to a Spokane testing center. He would be taking his last exam–Teaching English As A Second Language–and therefore completing his requirements for teaching in Texas. He has his basic certificate, but this is a required supplement.
It was going to be one of the hottest days of the summer, but we were armed with water bottles and a plan.
Banjo Man did not follow my plan, which was to drop off Will and then go to a nearby Starbucks for iced tea and scones before venturing to Kohl’s, etc. I had the directions and the gift cards (Amber shares her students’ gifts with me), but it was not to be. My husband wanted a cafe, which was nowhere to be found after four miles and thirty minutes of driving around and studying the GPS. We ended up parked behind a drive-thru coffee shack as we drank water and ate bad-for-us packaged “muffin tops”.
Never again, Banjo Man. From now on I’m sticking to my plans.
Then we were off to Kohl’s. I had a dress to return and Banjo Man was, as ever, in search of bargains and pants. As I asked him what size and what kind of pants he was wearing (he wanted to find the exact kind, only in a different color), he unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants down to his hips so I could see. Yes, it was a joke and meant to make me screech, but I did not think it was all that funny.
They did not have his size in gray.
Time for revenge.
Relaxing in the Bunkhouse at the Quilting Bee.
The temperature was climbing steadily, so the cool quilt shop felt pretty darn wonderful. I browsed through the machines–Janome has some new fancy ones that are quite gorgeous–and fabric. I bought a buffalo panel for Will’s classroom and resisted everything else.
#proudofmyself
Banjo Man was not finished shopping, so off we went to the Spokane Valley Mall to look for shoes. Thankfully Will texted to say he was finished with his test just as his father entered the shoe department at Dick’s Sporting Goods.
Lunch at Jimmy John’s! We picked up Will at Ace Hardware, across from the test center. My GPS said that Jimmy John’s was 60 feet and 3 seconds away, meaning we could walk around the building and…there it was!
The highlight of the excursion was to be the Van Gogh Experience in downtown Spokane. We had taken Nancy to the Providence convention center last May to see it and it had been absolutely fantastic. Alas, this version was not. So disappointing, like ordering a filet mignon at a restaurant and getting a Sloppy Joe instead.
Yes, I know that sounds harsh. But the tickets had been expensive and hopes were high. Will has read books on Van Gogh and collected prints of his work.
I suppose the venue was too small for the Deluxe Van Gogh package (just guessing here) and what we saw was very, very different. Worth a 200-mile trip? I think not.
It was now 103 degrees, I had a headache and Banjo Man decided to take the back road home. That was fine with us, but it did take a bit longer.
Seen along the way:
And we stopped here, hoping to see the dam.
We walked along a path and read the signs, but Will was the only one who walked the whole way down to the dam itself. He said there wasn’t much to see.
We guzzled the last of our water and headed to Sandpoint, where we would stop at Super 1 for takeout (chicken tenders, mashed potatoes, gravy and broccoli salad).
Eleven hours after we left, we were home. And so happy to be here!
So…fingers crossed that Will passed this exam. To celebrate a summer of studying being over, he slept late this morning (first time all summer) and is going camping tonight.
There is no way to tell if this eagle is the same one that has terrorized the opreys and their babies in the nest, but we have spotted no conflict in the skies for over a week now.
This eagle was found by My French Friend Janou, whose house is on another area of the peninusula but not that far away if you’re an eagle.
He’s pretty chewed up, which could have happened after he died. Did an osprey finally take him out? Was it old age? Another eagle? We’ll never know.
But what I do know is there were three ospreys in their nest yesterday, meaning at least one chick survived an eagle’s attempt to eat him.
And also yesterday morning, while I was watering my little garden, I watched one of our ospreys circle the eagles’ nesting area eleven times, crying out constantly. Was it the osprey version of a victory lap? A challenge to come out and fight? An expression of joy?
None of my Googling held the answer, but we have been amazed at how quiet things are now here in the cove.
Meet two boxes of Red Havens. Aren’t they gorgeous?
In early June I put my name on a list to order these two boxes. The Peach Man came through, so here is my allotment for the summer. The other varieties are nonexistent, due to the various weather crises of the winter and spring.
Banjo Man offered to help peel them with me.
Twelve pints of canned peaches, four bags in the freezer, one peach cobbler…and we were done. It will be a strange summer without apricots and peaches, but I’ve loaded up on cherries–there are plenty of bags of pitted cherries in the freezer–and even some rhubarb.
Three of my four Texans headed back to their home state Monday morning. There is much to be done before the official start of school. You can see the Funny Grandson pretending to cry.
It wasn’t long ago that the tears were real, but he is almost fourteen now and has outgrown sobbing for his grandmother and the lake.
Five weeks of family time was such a gift. Daughter Nancy had a ball, despite coming down with bronchitis.
A selfie at the 4th of July parade.Hanging out with Amber on a summer afternoon.Dinner at the Rusty Moose before dropping her off at the airport to fly home.
Amber was hit with Covid last week–diagnosed at Urgent Care–but no one else in the house became sick. We all felt terrible for her. And had no idea where it came from.
Will is still here and studying all day, every day, for his final test: English as a Second Language. He takes the 4.5 hour test in Spokane next Monday afternoon and then, to celebrate, we are taking him to the “Van Gogh Experience” and dinner.
He will fly back to Texas July 31st. He has a 2nd grade classroom to decorate and teacher meetings begin August 8.
My freezer is emptier, which is lovely. My pantry counter is, too. We won’t run out of groceries any time soon, but I am happy that everyone ate so much. Having a teenaged boy here meant that food disappeared at a steady pace.
This grandmother was pleased to feed him.
We’re sorry it’s over, but grateful to have been together for so long. How lucky we are!
The crowd was bigger than ever, as was their enthusiasm. And the sun was shining–hallelujah!!!
We spent the afternoon (a) napping, (b) sitting in the sun on the dock and (c) sitting in the shade on the dock.
The Funny Grandson spent all afternoon frolicking in the water with the neighbor boys who were here visiting their grandparents for the long holiday weekend.
Then I grilled burgers and hot dogs. Tradition, right? Pasta salad and baked beans completed the menu. We decided to hold off on the strawberry shortcake until later on.
Note: the strawberry shortcake dessert has been postponed until tonightdue to the consumption of many, many hot dogs and burgers.
Will built a pre-fireworks campfire at sunset. The fireworks were fabulous, as was our view from the dock. Boats and cars honked their horns to say thanks for the show. My favorite night of the year did not disappoint.
Meet our eagle. This spring he has enjoyed perching on trees close to the house and terrorizing the ospreys nesting on the west side of the house.
We’re in the middle of an ongoing ospreys vs. eagle war.
When this picture was taken one recent afternoon, the eagle was making the ospreys absolutely crazy with worry. In fact, starlings and sparrows and robins joined in to shriek their panic to anyone listening. We assume the eagle is after the osprey babies, tasty morsels in a nearby nest.
He refused to be intimidated and sat there waiting for an opportunity that never came. As usual, the ospreys tried to chase him away. He ignored them, but eventually gave up. For the moment. I think he enjoys causing trouble.
Another evening the ospreys and eagle were fishing, soaring in circles over the lake. The eagle dropped his recently caught fish and the osprey wasted no time trying to retrieve it. War ensued and eventually the eagle reclaimed his meal. From what I’ve read, eagles enjoy swooping in on ospreys who have just caught a fish to them drop it. Then the eagle grabs the floating fish and takes off. An easy meal, and called “pirating” by folks who know such things. This time the osprey attempted the maneuver. How they avoided colliding I’ll never know, but there were several close calls.
Thursday night we gathered around our first campfire on the beach and witnessed an epic battle. The eagle once again swooped over the osprey nest and one of the ospreys lost his mind. He went into full “attack mode”, chasing that eagle over our heads at full speed. The eagle rolled over on his back, talons up, ready to defend itself. Screaming, they disappeared into the trees on the eagle’s side of the cove. Long minutes later the osprey zoomed back to his nest.
They continue to fight over fishing rights, but we haven’t seen the eagle perched on one of our trees lately.
Friday afternoon this guy showed up:
The huge heron stood on the neighbor’s dock for at least thirty minutes, maybe longer. He looked perfectly content to gaze out at the lake and was not the least bit bothered by passing boats. This was a first for me, as I’ve never seen one so close.
Otherwise our little cove remains quiet–just us, the birds and the deer–but we hope for the return of neighbors for the 4th of July weekend.
Sometimes you just need hot fudge on your ice cream. The recipe came to me from my friend Sharon, in Massachusetts. It’s always a much-anticipated treat.
Here’s a link to a website that shares the recipe, too:
Banjo Man couldn’t wait to spend the night in the cabin with his sons and grandson. Nothing would stop him, especially not the predicted freezing temps. He had a wood stove, sleeping bags, a freshly made pot of chicken soup and plenty of firewood, so what could go wrong?
Photo by John.
A hail storm????
Photo by Will.Photo by Ben.
For reasons unknown to mankind, Banjo Man chose to sleep in the unheated bunkhouse and the Funny Grandson chose to sleep in the unheated bunkhouse loft. Ben and Will chose to put their cots close to the woodstove.
Photo by Will.
When they arrived home Sunday morning they wanted hot drinks, warm beds and hot showers (not necessarily in that order).
Father’s Day was very, very quiet.
Amber made beans (her specialty), I put together a macaroni and cheese casserole and Ben’s favorite banana cream pudding in a trifle dish. The guys eventually woke up and, recovered from “winter camping”, ate a grilled chicken dinner and played a few rounds of Mexican Train dominoes.
Needless to say, any more camping up at the cabin will happen when the weather finally warms up (although the forecast is still for much cooler than normal days).
The Funny Grandson once again jumped into the frigid waters of Lake Pend Oreille immediately after arriving Tuesday afternoon.
He made some heavy panting noises as he emerged from the water and swam back to the dock. Undeterred, he kept jumping back into the water. The following morning he was back at it, as if it was August and 96 degrees out.
Ah, youth…
He spent time resting in the sun, as you see in the picture, in order to warm up in between leaps into the cold water. Nothing would stop him.
Yesterday Amber and I headed to town for opening day of The Peach Man’s fruit stand. This season will be different, sadly. Apricots, peaches and plums will be in short supply, as the cold spring hit the crops really hard. In other words, I won’t be making apricot jam this summer. We bought several huge bags of Bing cherries, so there might be cherry jam. Amber has volunteered to pit as many cherries as I need to make a batch or two.
I’ve heard a rumor that “the guys” are camping up at the cabin tomorrow night. Banjo Man’s perfect Father’s Day morning–pancakes and bacon in the isolated mountain man cave–is going to come true.
Tomorrow’s weather: a low of 45 and a high of 55. With a 45% chance of rain. This is joyful news, as it means Banjo Man will have a reason to fire up the wood stove.
Amber and I are heading to water aerobics this morning and the guys are heading up to the woods to get firewood and make up their sleeping cots.
is there any more pie? 