‎63 Years of Memories....

‎63 Years of Memories....
that's what I have now. The photo below shows the chair on the point which for so many years was my father's favorite after-supper place to contemplate and cast for walleye. As much as I feel guilty about what's happened, I know he would understand and even say there's nothing to forgive. He lived life fully and moved on many times. I'm the one with the unique experience of being attached to a beautiful place for my whole life. And despite all my best efforts, yesterday the 'cabin' was sold. I signed the papers and, truth be told, a weight was lifted. A new life lies ahead without the obligations, but with all of the wonderful memories. My unrelentingly positive attitude says this is truly how it is, but my heart is still sad.

There are some things in life for which the balance between the obligation and the joy of ownership often cannot be sustained forever. It became clear that I was no longer up to the task of taking care of the place quite a while back. However, knowing what needs to be done and doing it are often far apart. Finally, no choice was left. It had to be sold.

Now it's gone. No more worrying about how long the grass or how deep the snow is up there. No more sublimely pleasurable early morning cups of coffee sitting on the dock when the color of the lake is like pale blue glass and the air is completely still. No more endless repairs, high taxes, and utility bills. No more late nights around the fire pit with friends and family - warm from both fire and friendship. No more frozen pipes or emergency calls to the furnace guys. No more saunas and midnight skinny dipping that make you feel like you'll live forever while your connection with nature is confirmed by the gazillion stars of the milky way and the loons calling out in the dark. No more concerns with low well water levels or water so hard and full of iron the clothes turn yellow and your newly washed hair feels like brillo. No more finding the way home by boat in the dark after a long day on the lake feeling like this is the only place you really, really belong. No more praying that the boathouse will make it another year without collapsing. And ultimately, no more making new memories with friends, family and loved ones. No new memories, that is, at Half Bay, Lake Vermilion, Tower, MN. New life... here we come!

How do you thank a place for memories?

Saturday, January 03, 2009

Soldier of Misfortune

Nothing unlucky happened to me, I just thought that was a catchy title.

Since business has been slow recently, I have had time to take some photos. Here is a Sherpa out flying in bad weather. The truck in the foreground is an MRAP belonging to the Pathfinders who just moved in next door to us and took up all the good parking.

This flag is flown over the Pathfinders new clubhouse. I don't know who the history buff in there is because frankly that building smells to bad to enter much less socialize in. As if you needed a reminder, that flag is depicting a print that was done up pre-revolution by Benji Franklin and is considered to be the first political cartoon ever.

Here is a photo of us being useless and doing nothing. Parked.


The line. This image shows the bad visibility well. The line actually goes about twice as far as you can see. This is about three or four hundred yards. The wind was kicking pretty hard and I went inside before the opportunity for a really good photo during the Shamal that followed shortly thereafter, probably saving my camera by doing so.

3 comments:

thedad said...

About the only thing that goes thru my head when I look at all your pictures is the billions of dollars wasted -- on the equipment, it's use/misuse, et. al.

I probably rode a Huey on S & D missions 150 times. Why doesn't the Army just give the old Huey's a new coat a paint and use them? If they were good enough for me, they're good enough for you.

Bert said...

actually all the old hueys are at the state department running errands for Condoleza

Edith said...

Hallo from Sweden!
We used to read your contribution and you take very nice photos. We often thinking about you and we hope you doing well. It was sad we didn't met you and your family last summer. We had a wonderful time in US and it was nice to meet so many of our relatives.

Many hugs to you from
Edith, Tord
Liza
Anette, Peter
Simone, Elin and Olowf
Wilma and Santos (our dog's)