I think it’s Monday. When I first woke up, for a moment I
forgot that we drove to our cottage last night. I love that feeling! Over-50-year-old-me
also appreciates the chilly nights, even in June. Mike made a fire in the wood burner
while I enjoyed some chardonnay. My brother had been here last weekend and he
left a thank you gift on the kitchen counter. The Balvenie, Two James and
Valentine White Blossom should certainly last us for the few weeks we plan to
unwind here.
There’s a saying in Michigan that if you don’t like the
weather “stick around for a half an hour or so- it’ll change.” It’s been a
crazy year for weather. Ice fishing shanties were still out on the lake in
April. Typically mushroom season, snow banks were still trying to melt in May.
We harvested one puny morel. Now June, it’s as hot as the 4th of
July. This morning I sat down with my coffee and made a to-do list. Repairing
the kitchen window screen, cleaning the toilets and raking the path did not
sound fun for me. Instead, I decided to take Betty out for a spin.
Betty is a vintage Central Park model Ross bicycle. She
is the color of a meyer lemon with black trim and a diamond pleated seat. When
my neighbor died, her adult kids offered the bike to me. Although I have told
them, I don’t think they realize how much I cherish Betty’s bike. I ordered a personalized
bicycle plate. My “Betty” plate is gold and black, just like the California license
plates in the 60’s where I grew up. Betty now lives at our cottage.
I love technology. Not only can you order just about
anything like my Betty Bicycle Plate, you can pay bills and bank remotely.
Although not clear on what day it was, I got a notification on my phone that my
American Express bill was due. Being away from home, thankfully I was able to
pay the bill while sipping coffee at the cottage. Whew! In the nick of time I
avoided a late fee and an increased interest rate. I figured I earned that bike ride. I took a
basket and pair of scissors hoping to snip a wildflower bouquet.
Apparently, this June is an excellent year for mosquitoes
and a miserable year for wild flowers. I started to convince myself that the gold
dandelions would be an adequate compliment in the basket hanging on Betty’s
handlebars. I didn’t bother to stop to pick any, but decided to just enjoy my
ride around the lake’s gravel road. As I passed Buck’s house his springer
spaniel barked “hello.” A blonde grade schooler passed by in a golf cart. Her
grin said, “Look at me. I’m driving all by myself.” A young couple walked past
with their German shepherd. The woman could only nod hello because she was
talking on her cell phone. I hate technology.
Somehow it takes us out of the moment when we are doing something we
like. We are always doing “something else.”
I did pass on one tiny orange hawk weed. Without any other
flowers to make up a significant bouquet, I decided to let her grow a little
more. Slighted by the flora, the fauna Gods thanked me by sending a monarch. He
flapped his wings right in front of my path. I was also greeted by two white tail deer
happily crunching sticks on the side of the road, completely unafraid of Betty
and me passing by. Just when I thought I’d been pretty much skunked on my
wildflower hunt, I happened upon a small patch of daisies. Being my favorite, I
selfishly snipped all nine. Betty and I took them home and filled their Mason
jar with water.
With a beautiful breeze blowing and the sun shining, I
decided to crack open one of my brother’s thank you gifts. I am relatively sure
it is in fact Monday. I have no idea what time. Thankfully, at our lake house
the clock is always conveniently stuck on cocktail:30. Cheers.
