Up at 6 a.m., having my first cup of morning coffee (not out on the porch, however, ‘cause it’s damp and chilly out there), and knocking the cobwebs from my dear, old MacBook. And it’s the first morning that I don’t have anything that needs doing at any certain time today.
Yep. “Move-in weekend” has come and gone, and it couldn’t have been better, either. To say that the weather was outstanding would be understating things immensely! Plenty of sunshine filled each day, beginning with our arrival here early Friday right on through Memorial Day on Monday.
There was not the slightest hint of a storm until late Monday evening. By that time, everything was in its place, Carolyn’s annual planting complete, and the pontoon all covered and moored in its usual spot down the slope below our 101-year-old cottage.
When the season’s first storm did roll in late Monday night, it had its normal share of wind as well as a drenching rain. It was no big thing to roll down the porch blinds that keeps things somewhat dry, and I remembered the visqueen, that polyethylene sheeting, that we always use to cover the futon when a storm is near.
So when I crawled into bed, tired, achy, and worn out from all of the weekend’s tasks and physical challenges, I felt pretty good about having everything buttoned up and secure against the thunderstorm that was now hitting us with pretty good force. Let it rain!
I’m not sure exactly when it was—around 3 a.m., perhaps—that I remembered that I had done nothing to secure our pier furniture, consisting of a few plastic chairs, a couple of footstools, and a small table. I’d forgotten all about them as they sat right where I’d placed them the day before after a much-needed bath in the lake.
Whenever there’s wind of any sort, the chairs and table are not going to win out. Instead, they’ll be blown off the pier and end up along the shore, which—thankfully—is close and in very shallow water. As I lay there remembering my failure to bungee cord the pier furniture, I knew I’d be getting in the water for an early morning “search and rescue” mission in a few hours. With that it mind, I rolled over and went back to sleep and listened to the rain on the roof.
A few hours later, as the dawn of a new day arrived and the storm from the night gone, I came down and got the morning coffee going and put on my water shoes. In the early light of the morning, I could see that a couple of chairs that had been stacked together had remained in place, as well as the two low footstools, but the three other chairs and the little round table were gone.
And so I went down to see what I could see. Sure enough, the three chairs were resting against the shoreline not far from where I was standing on our pier, and I could see that the little table had traveled farther, to the end of the pier two cottages down. No problem at all. I stepped off into the shallow water and retrieved our chairs and table and returned them to the pier and tied them down with a cord I’d brought along.
A few minutes later, I was back in the cottage and having a wonderful cup of hot coffee. The day ahead promised to be a good one for getting some reading done and to get things going for my writing routine for the summer. This post is the first effort along those lines.
There are a few little tweaks and adjustments needed to finish the move-in process, and I’ll be attending to them today. In the meantime, another cup of coffee is in order….CortlandWriter
Down Many Roads... 
Your 100-year-old cabin sounds fascinating as does the magical lake. Do you do a lot of writing there?
Hello there, and glad you stopped by! Yes, this place, one of 21 cottages here at this “resort,” is beyond description–seeing is believing! And the lake is, indeed, magical in so many respects. Since I’m up here all summer, and usually on my own during the week, I have my regular writing stints, especially on those rainy “inside” days.
I’m happy to hear you’re all settled in, Mark. Isn’t it nice when Mother Nature sends her welcome? Enjoy the cabin!
Mother Nature is always keeping us on our toes during the summer here at the lake, Jill! After a string of glorious days filled with sunshine and clear skies, I look forward to a gray one of drizzle and mist. Whatever she throws our way, I’m happy to be here to enjoy it. 🙂
I love that you were able to go back to sleep when you knew you’d have to do a ‘search and rescue’ in the morning for your furniture. I probably would’ve lain awake fretting about it. 🙂
Carrie, in previous years, I did just that: lain awake and fretted. In fact, I once braved the lightning and the deluge in the middle of the night to go down and try to make some heroic effort to find the stuff in the drink. When I realized that nothing is worth tempting fate on a lightning-filled stormy night, I never did it again. 🙂
Ha, good point. 🙂
Lucky you that when things blow away they are just down the beach, along the shore, in shallow water to boot! When we lose something due to storms or a sudden high water line it is totally gone. The kids are still lamenting the loss of the spider-man inner tube a few years back and I don’t even want to describe the time we had the cutest little knocked together old wood and plastic greenhouse down on the beach. Left for an overnight, thought it would be fine. Got home to high water, no beach and never saw a sign of the thing – totally gone – wood, plastic, pots, tomatoes and all. Then there was the year that we lost the entire lower part of the stairs to the beach in a storm. And I’m still pining for the folding, double camp chair that had the neatest little table in between the chairs. Gone, gone, gone. We try to get into a routine of bringing things up earlier each summer but invariably we want to keep the beach life going into the lovely days of Sept. and get caught out by a storm. Okay, enough about our travails. Nice to think of you snug in your cabin on the lake writing up a storm.
That’s quite an assortment of things you’ve lost in storms or high water, Fran! That must have been quite a startling awakening when you saw that your lower stairs to the beach were gone. And even though we always try to be careful to put things away or secure them, more often than not we forget–as was the case with me the other night. Here in the cottage, it is wonderful to “write up a storm.” 🙂
I was coming over say to you ” been there done that” but I see Fran already checked in. Before her and I were together and way back in the early 80’s I lost my first canoe – totally gone. Since then, the 2nd canoe is the one thing I’ve always been sure to get above any high water mark. It’s great your back at the cottage and settled in Mark. Sounds so cozy. Have a good summer.
Hey, Bruce! Glad to have both you and Fran “checking in” whenever the spirit moves you. Yes, being back for the summer at my southwest Michigan place of “exile” is wonderful! Will be getting serious about writing next week. Right now, company and way too many other kinds of distractions. You have a good summer, too. 🙂