the rest of the story

So the last week of April we contacted our realtor in Michigan about the coming season and the plan for getting our property and cottage back on the market. Since this would be the fourth summer on the market, I had a heavy spirit over more showings, low offers and disappointments. I was sick of the whole thing, especially since we'd doubled the driving distance by moving to North Carolina.

Well. On Monday, May 2, I received a text from our realtor Katie. She started out talking about the listing documents we needed to send, but also: " a family spent most of the weekend looking around your place which I just found out. They called this morning and asked for the survey, listing, and want to make an offer!!"

We'd had three years of dashed hopes and promises of offers which never materialized. But as the day progressed and the texts kept coming, we began to have hope. And so it was .... a real, CASH offer by the end of the day. The next morning we countered which they accepted immediately. And they wanted to close by June 1.

June 1. About a month prior, I decided to pray for an OFFER by June 1, but God upped it and brought a CLOSING by June 1. In fact two weeks later we were on the road to Michigan: about 900 miles one way, to wrap it all up. We closed on May 20, just 18 days after the offer.

 

 

We loved the cabin these 14 years. She was our respite, our place to connect as a family, so rustic and charming and had a spectacular view of Grand Lake. But life changed. All our kids left Ohio. My dream of the grandkids bunking in the boat house wasn't practical. And keeping her was too costly.

 

We're glad a family with young children now owns the cabin. We trust they'll love and enjoy her as we did. While we won't miss the massive amount of upkeep she required, we'll miss how she welcomed and sheltered us each summer.

 

I drew closer to God through this long process. He taught me that prayer isn't solely about "getting what I want." It's about strengthening my relationship with Him and trusting His will for my life. It's about knowing He will always be with me and love me no matter what.

life

Man oh man. Three weeks since a post! Sorry 'bout that. Excuses? No kids to run to baseball practice, the pool, or out for ice cream. But ... life has gotten a little ornery and I get feeling a little overwhelmed and then my writing freezes! Grrrr.

 

If you've been with me awhile you probably know about this place; our cabin in Presque Isle, Michigan. We still are crazy about it, but it's time to sell. With kids and grandkids all living east and south, the cabin is too far for them to enjoy. And frankly, much as we love it, we'd rather spend our time and money being with family. So, know anyone looking for a sweet place? The views are spectacular!

 



Anyway, we've already made two trips up since May to tidy things up. And there might be another trip.

We had Katie with us for two weeks, helping at the cabin: fun! While I love being there, I do want to close this phase of our lives. Trusting God's perfect timing!

So. The writing might be sporadic, but I'll try to jump back in.

Thanks for checking in; hope you're having a great summer!

photo of the day

My oldest son, David, made his way to the cabin.

He throughly enjoyed the break from his job,

and we thoroughly enjoyed time with him!

photo of the day

Katie snapped this one ... I'm holding Lily at Besser Beach on Lake Huron.

I love how we're both looking out at the water.

What a treat it was to have Lily with us for a few days!

photo of the day

My son Mark with his daughter Lily ...

during our hike near Lake Huron.

(photo taken on Lily's 5-month birthday)

I miss

I miss

coming in the back door,

over the worn wooden floor.

I miss

the beauty of the birches, even when they turn 

into a colossal task. 

I miss

the boathouse.

I miss

exploring in solitude

places where man has met the sea. 

I miss

the sunsets which remind me

that God's still in the business

of wowing us with His creative majesty.



For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible ... all things were created by him and for him.

Colossians 1:16

there and back

Still alive! We slipped up to the cabin in northern Michigan for a few days ... where there is no internet in any practical sense of the word.

The weather, which plays a huge part in our time there, was SPECTACULAR. Highs in the 70's and lots of sun. Then on Monday evening the wind kicked up. And blow it did all night long. No wimpy winds up around the Great Lakes. Powerful, make-me-feel-small winds. I think I might love wind as much as I love water. It makes me feel alive!

Anyway, though I had my camera, I took very few photos. Bill and I made two bike rides to the harbor/lighthouses (10 miles round trip) and busied ourselves with the usual chores and required autumn cleaning-up. It's still summery-looking in northern Michigan, but if you look closely, you'll see small tinges of autumn.

We also made time to read and chat with our neighbor guys, who by the way, love to fish on Grand Lake until - I don't think I exaggerate - ice begins to form on the lake. (And after that, they ice fish in the dead of winter.) Jody and Alan brought us a bag of beautiful, ready-to-cook walleye.  Awesome eating!

At this time of year, Grand Lake seems to be a best-kept secret. Most of the wave-runners and skiers have been replaced by slow kayakers like me, ducks, and even a great blue heron we spotted one morning as we poured our coffee.

It's also good to be home, near family, friends, neighbors. In these I am content.

7.11 photos

We spent all of July a-way up north at our cabin in Michigan. Thought I'd share some of my favorite photos.

This being the last summer, it was especially sweet to have Katie with us as she prepares for her senior year in college. She kept busy with an online course, and two weeks working at a nearby camp. But we also had time to laugh, eat ice cream, and take photos together. Katie says she gets her photography talent from me, but she's miles ahead!

We love the light inside the old Presque Isle lighthouse, built in 1840. (OK, I know I just posted this photo, but I like it.)

Oh and by the way, the wedding Katie shot on Saturday was sweet, simple, elegant, and just perfect. Katie and her assistant Jill worked hard! I don't think we realize the difficulty of a given job until someone we loves DOES that job. This includes wedding photography. The next three photos are Katie's, btw.

As much as we like being there, we love it when friends visit. Especially dear friends who we don't see often, friends who appreciate simple living in an old cabin beside a lake. So it thrilled us when our friends Dan and Beth made the trip from FLORIDA all the way to northern Michigan and stayed for most of one week. We have known Dan and Beth for over 30 years, so we had a sweet and hilarious time time together!

 At times, maybe a little too hilarious ...

Our biggest expense while at the cabin  is ice cream up at the harbor. Two huge scoops for $2 and the flavors are different every day. Flavors like Blueberry Wafflecone, Michigan Black Bear, and Mackinac Island Fudge. Bill tasted mine one evening and took a hugely oversized bite. Wow.

Let me go on record for saying that I don't believe dogs need a vacation, but if ever a dog loves a getaway, it's our Ellie. She has lots of freedom at the cabin, so what could be better for a dog?

Rock hounds! The rocks in this part of Michigan are amazing.

Finally, we were blessed with many glorious sunsets that God painted

at day's end. It was a lovely month indeed.

Tomorrow: one more favorite photo!

keeping house 1945-style

We spent the past month at our cottage in northern Michigan. (My daughter Katie insists it's a cabin; only bright, cheery places at the beach are called cottages. To me, a cabin has little more than cots and a screen door and we have more than that. Ha!)

Anyway. Built in 1945, the cottage has undergone very few changes. Some might describe living here as indoor camping. No microwave, air conditioning, or washing machine. We do without a disposer and TV, too.

The fridge is at least 50 years old and still hums along. Katie, Jenny and Jill say it's "so cute." It would be cuter if I didn't have to defrost it!

Running the kitchen with this fridge isn't so bad with just two or three of us, but if there's a crowd to feed, it becomes more challenging, as you might imagine. I got by with just one defrosting this month. I remember my mother having to defrost our fridge in the 1960s and it wasn't a pretty sight.

Now for laundry. About once a week, we run to the laundromat in town. But if I'm down to a last pair of underwear, my old Girl Scout camp skills kick in. Bucket (metal wash pan), soap, water and clothesline. It's a good life skill and humbling, too: washing out your underwear by hand.

Dishwashing really isn't a big deal. When I consider loading, running, and unloading a dishwasher, I'm not sure much time is saved: we get it done in a jiffy in our ceramic sink and dish pan.

It isn't the Hilton. But then it's so much more. The call of loons every morning. God's power in a storm bearing down in the night as we rush to close windows, rain spraying our faces. Wind softly rustling the pine and birches. Time to read, pray, talk together, and just come away from the mindless noise and distractions of everyday life.

skunked!

It all started about a week ago when Ellie came into the cabin from her wanderings, emitting a slight but distinct “eau de skunk.” We tried to ignore it for a day, and especially denying the possibility that a skunk might have taken up residence on our property.

But Ellie’s continuous trips out to the “guest house,” eagerly sniffing and pawing around pretty much told us without a doubt that we indeed had a skunk. And he had a fine access under the building: a handy hole beside a water valve at ground level.

What to do? For obvious reasons, neither of us would entertain thoughts of coaxing, pulling or trapping a skunk. So we consulted our neighbor Roy, the man with answers to most of our questions. He, a virtual expert on all things lake/northern Michigan and us, the virtual clueless city slickers.

“Skunks are nocturnal, so go out past 11 o’clock and cover the hole with rocks,” Roy said. "By then he should be out for the night, and will find a surprise when he returns."

Sensible enough. Except when Bill headed out with his flashlight at 11:15 p.m., he and Mr. Skunk spotted each other, and skunk scurried back under the guest house. That was plan A, night one.

Plan B, night two. “Skunks hate moth balls and ammonia,” said Roy. I refused to go the moth ball route. “Jam some ammonia-soaked rags into those smaller holes,” advised Roy. "Then, sprinkle some flour around the bigger hole, so you’ll know when he leaves by his footprints. Then you can cover his hole with rocks." This was sounding more like detective work to me.

Out we went last evening, about 9:30, armed with rags, ammonia, and a bowl of flour and followed Roy’s directions. Problem was, at 10:30 it started raining and we figured skunk’s trail would be tainted. So, was skunk in or out? We certainly didn’t want to trap a live skunk under the building, but if he had moved on, we certainly DID want to cover the hole. What a quandary!

This morning, day three, Roy inspects the set-up. “Let’s prop some small sticks in front of the hole. If he goes in our out, we’ll know by the sticks.”

Meanwhile, Ellie received a thorough bathing in the lake with a homemade potion of baking soda, hydrogen peroxide and soap, thanks to a recipe by Dove, our neighbor at home. Ellie smells much better. Thanks, Dove!

And now she’s lost interest in the skunk hole. So we’re left to wonder if she’s sick of detention and baths and has learned her lesson, or if the skunk has moved on to greener pastures. Bill thinks he’s gone for good.

We don’t know. But we sure feel skunked!

rope

kitchen window

hammock

clothesline

boathouse door

and just in case.

 Rope's a good thing to have!

autumn's coming

Summer's sneaking out while autumn's creeping in. I see it, feel it, smell it. Autumn fools you. It was in the 40's this morning, but by the time Ellie and I walked, the air was warm. Well. Ohio just that does that all the time.

A nip in the air also means we "close" our cabin for the winter. "Close?" ask the southerners. What do you mean? This is north, way north, where snow can blow in October and ice remains on the lake until April.

Whitecaps whipping the lake, we spotted just one lone boater all weekend.

 All docks get pulled from the lake. And for a cottage built in 1945, it means the pipes are drained. We check for dead trees that could blow down on the cabin.

Usually, we'll have spotted one or two over the summer that really should come down. I'd cry for the felled birches, except there are dozens more coming right behind them.

To make way for the dock sections, the boathouse is straightened and cleaned.

And - perhaps the best entertainment all weekend - my husband put on waders for the dock disassemblage (such a word?). He was, shall I say, a fish out of water!

With the able help of our amazing neighbor Roy, the dock was soon put

into hibernation. 

It wasn't quite as cold as you might think ...

but almost.

Call me crazy, but I am crazy over the entryway into the kitchen.

I love the way thousands of feet have worn away the paint for 65 years.

I roll up and hang the clothesline behind the door.

I love the collection of small stones lining the screen.

The kerosene lantern I found for $2 at a yard sale hangs here. I proudly use it because I learned how at Girl Scout camp many years ago.

And I like how my daughter's flip flops sit waiting for next summer.

On our final night there, I played with my camera,

trying to catch the light on the boathouse.

And as the sun slipped beyond the western lake shore,

we sadly and sweetly said goodbye

until next summer.

a GRAND time had by all

Last week we mounted a massive migration to northern Michigan and spent a few days on the shores of Grand Lake. And grand it was. Lots of laughing. Cooking. Eating. Salad-making. Rock-painting. Lighthouse-climbing. Baby-feeding. Swimming, reading, and hammock-lying, too.

My camera was on assignment at a wedding for the first couple of days, but I caught up as best I could.

This sort of vacation requires basic survival skills like cooking and clean-up, so I swiftly put the 'children' into doing dishes Girl Scout camp-style. Wow, they loved that!

The newest little Haller visits Fireside Inn ...

for breakfast before church on Sunday.

The three amigos, playing frisbee golf.

(that is, my three sons)

They fling 'em like this.

I'm almost embarrassed to post this because I don't

think a dog really needs a vacation ...

This one's just artsy.

And this one makes me laugh: my hubby,

sharing a morning moment with Ari.

Gotta see my lighthouses: lovely

Presque Isle lighthouses!

Lots and lots of photographing went on.

In a few years, Ari and I will walk

the shoreline in search of rocks and other treasures.

I don't know which is my favorite ... this one,

or this one.

Rock painting!

Chores.

(Thanks, Dan, for digging up trees

from the septic field!)

'Baba' and Ari.

Ari wanted some ice cream very badly.

Girls laughing hard, having ice cream.

"Pops" with Ari at the harbor in Presque Isle.

Fun memories with precious family. Love 'em!