Original anecdotes, commentary, rumination, and occasional pontification.
AUGUST 25, 2026 – (Cont.) My earliest memory of fishing dates back to the Franklin Elementary School annual carnival. I wasn’t yet in school, but my two older sisters were, and they knew their way around the highlights of the carnival—the cake walk, the ring toss, the balloon darts, and . . . the fish …
AUGUST 24, 2026 – As I begin this post, the sun is sliding toward the horizon with a landing spot just under a month shy of the equinox. I’m seated at the end of the dock in the company of spouse and half of our company, admiring a sky filled with pastels in search of …
AUGUST 21, 2026 – Today at 10:00 I was left in sole charge of our three-year-old grandson . . . at the Red Cabin. “Will you be home before lunch?” I asked, as my wife, daughter-in-law and infant granddaughter exited the back of the cabin to head for town. (Byron had departed yesterday to ferry …
AUGUST 20, 2026 – (Cont.) A few miles north of Bayfield we entered the Red Cliff Band of Lake Superior Chippewa Indian Reservation. The first notable sight is the Legendary Waters Resort and Casino right on the shore of Lake Superior. Having hit the jackpot with the weather, however, we proceeded past this establishment several …
AUGUST 19, 2026 – Yesterday I joined the plan to take our visitors north to Bayfield, WI on the south shore of Lake Superior, a 90-minute drive from the Red Cabin. We left Grindstone Lake at 9:30 in the morning and returned 10 hours later after a magnificent outing. Among Twin Citians, Bayfield enjoys a …
AUGUST 17, 2026 – Yesterday at midnight, after everyone else was sound asleep and Byron himself was about to head off to Nod, I said, “I’m going out to the dock to check out the stars.” “I’ll join you,” he said. I was glad he wanted to—without having to be invited. Together we strolled out …
AUGUST 15, 2026 – Anyone who grew up with a family cabin or camp or cottage tradition knows the principal features—a lake, trees, a hammock, watercraft, swimming, fishing, s’mores, three family generations, sunsets, moonrises and star-gazing . . . and, of course, a cabin or cottage. Did I miss something? Oh, yeah. Wildlife. This morning …
AUGUST 10, 2026 – I know that most people share my awe, fear, disbelief, and anxiety over the complex uncertainties of life in our era. Where is the country headed? What will happen come November? Will the Strait of Hormuz open before the global economy crashes? What’s with all the wildfires—are they a sign of …
AUGUST 5, 2026 – One of the many things I appreciate about nature in all its moods, shapes, sounds, sizes, odors and colors, is that while we humans strut around, pushing and shoving one another in this direction and that, scaling snowy mountain peaks, taking deep dives into the sea, scampering around in our towns …
JULY 28, 2026 – Today the waters parted long enough to allow for painting the “sails,” tiller, splashboard and hull trim of another vessel of my model sailboat-from-wood-scraps fleet. This one was particularly tricky—it’s dual colored (for a husband-and-wife crew among the guests we’ll be hosting at the Red Cabin in August) and required an …
JULY 26, 2026 – Atmospheric conditions at the lake today reflected nature’s many moods in this neck of the woods. Well into daylight, I slipped out of bed and peered out the windows. A dense fog had descended over the woods, and I knew that a good many “photo ops” were to be had. I …
JULY 25, 2026 – It was an easy choice between reading beyond the morning headlines or reveling in nature’s magical majesty here in the lacustrine woodlands of northwestern Wisconsin. While Beth lounged in bed here at the Red Cabin, I stole downstairs, charged up the coffee apparatus, and fixed my usual breakfast. Soon I was …
JULY 23, 2026 – Much of this beautiful day was given over to a birthday party; first in rehearsing some music for which I’d been recruited to perform at the party, and later, in attending and playing at the party itself. The occasion was the surprise party for a loyal fan of our decades-long “Fidder …
JULY 11, 2026 – Today I experienced little bits o’ heaven. It all started with church. Not church church, but at the Mennonite Church on County Road K a half mile or so south of the south shore of Grindstone Lake. The occasion was the joint annual meetings of the Grindstone Lake Association and the …
MAY 27, 2026 – It is in our nature, I guess, that when the Northwind blows, forcing us to pull our collars up and walk with folded arms to trap more body heat, we complain about the cold. Yet, when the tables are turned and the Southwind sends its hot and humid breath across the …
MAY 25, 2026 – This morning after breakfast and Java, I sat at the log dining table at the Red Cabin, pecking away at correspondence on my laptop. Facing the lake exactly 75 feet from the windows, I periodically looked up to check on the scenery. A splendid breeze frolicked across the two-mile fetch from …
MAY 16, 2026 – A year ago, I worked myself to exhaustion planting Norway pine and white spruce seedlings, mostly in the tree garden of Björnholm. As is the case this spring, the ground then was so dry, a walk through the woods mimicked the Kellogg’s Rice Krispies jingle—snap, crackle, pop. After planting the seedlings, …
MAY 15, 2026 – Departing the big city at 9:30 this morning, I enjoyed a beautiful spring drive to the Red Cabin. Once there, After unloading the car and wolfing down lunch, I spent a good chunk of the afternoon hosing off the screens, letting them dry in the zephyr off the lake, then hauling …
MAY 11, 2026 – If Elon and his Tech Bros have their Apple wallets set on cruising to arid, dusty, rocky, lifeless Mars and pitching their tents there, I say, “Go right ahead . . . make my day” . . . er, “nine months there, nine months back, plus the time it takes to …
MAY 2, 2026 – This morning I put all concerns about the larger world aside—along with most of my personal worries—and drove straight to the Red Cabin. Well, not exactly straight there. In Cumberland, Wisconsin I encountered a detour, which took me straight east, not north, all the way to Rice Lake, halfway across Wisconsin, …
APRIL 29, 2026 – The sound reminds me of a grandfather clock with a malfunctioning escapement mechanism. Instead of a steady “tick-tock . . . tick-tock” we hear, “tick . . . tock-tock . . . TOCK . . . tick-TOCK” and so on, ad nauseam, day after day. The source of the erratic noise …
APRIL 18, 2026 – All the people who’ve died or will die in Africa because of the end of USAID? We’ll never get them back. All the people who will perish because funding of cancer research funded by the federal government was ripped into sawdust by the chainsaw of DOGE? We’ll never get them back. …
FEBRUARY 8, 2026 – Whenever I pick up Illiana from school on a sunny day, to get the conversation rolling, I remind her that “As I’ve mentioned before . . . between the winter solstice back in December and the summer solstice in June, the north end of the earth’s axis is leaning more and …
DECEMBER 27, 2025 – I remember the time I accidentally crushed an ant on the sidewalk. It registered on my retinas but a nano-second too late for me to rotate my leather-soled dress shoe to avoid the mishap as I rose off the downtown park bench after having finished my Subway sandwich. On my way …
DECEMBER 13, 2025 – I knew it was cold—8F—but I hadn’t taken the stiff wind into account. Two weeks had passed since I’d gotten outside for anything that might qualify as exercise. A head cold and other distractions had forced me to into “low profile” mode. On my way home from the MRI on Tuesday …