"We're living on borrowed time." Those were his very words.

Glorious Sunday morning sunlight!

That’s what the cashier at the little grocery store observed to a tourist during their short exchange about our glorious weather of the past weekend, when the “gales of November” that arrived in October backed off for three days, and the sun shone as if there would be no tomorrow. But there was a tomorrow, and then another – Friday, Saturday, Sunday, all glorious with balmy air, glowing fall colors, and clear blue skies. “Locals’ summer,” a phrase I learned only this year, might be expected more reliably in September, but for three consecutive days this month locals and visitors alike gleefully shrugged off jackets and sweaters.

 

“Bother fall housekeeping!” I said aloud impatiently (well, I might have, you know), translating the Mole’s utterance (WITW) from spring to autumn, because when life gives us heavenly days on earth, it would be wrong to spend all those hours indoors. I enjoyed a long walk with my dog, then a bit of botanizing in the meadow with downstate visitors,  and continued my now almost-finished apple harvest. Finally, reluctantly, after putting away some of summer's outdoor furniture, I spent some “indoor” time, preparing apples for applesauce, but spent it on the front porch with the door open, after which Sunny and I had a play session in the yard with tennis balls. 

Come late afternoon, I was ready to collapse on the porch with a book when I saw a text on my phone from good friend Laura, inviting me to enjoy the sunset at Good Harbor with her! I was so tired! But there is never enough time with friends, and “locals’ summer” could end any day now. Besides, how many times have I been on the beach at Lake Michigan this year? (Only once!) So of course I was up for a picnic supper and sunset!

A couple of Northport neighbors had walked farther down the beach for sunset, and as sky colors faded they walked back our way, and we visited a while, luxuriating in the softness of the breeze. Nearby a couple of small children ran in and out of the water. Lake Michigan! After sunset! In late October! Can you believe it?

Monday was an early morning for Sunny and me, our last agility session together until spring, and the day was cloudy, but the colors went on singing, and they sang again in the Tuesday's rain, also, a poignant tune, that, in which I imagined wailing Parisian accordion notes between the falling leaves.

Books Read Since Last Posted List

105.  Cozzens, James Gould. The Just and the Unjust (fiction)

106. Kresge Foundation (various authors). The Culture Keeper: Olayami Dables’ Grand Vision (nonfiction)

107. Wheeler, Jacob. Angel of the Garbage Dump: How Hanley Denning Changed the World One Child at a Time (nonfiction)

108. Gibbon, Lewis Grassic. Sunset Song (fiction)

109. Jance, J.A. Partner in Crime (fiction)

110. Gwynne, S.C. Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History(nonfiction)

111. Fuselier, David. A Fog on Spirit Island (fiction)

And now --

Sing, colors, leaves, friends, rain or shine! Borrowed time is all we ever have, so let’s make the most of it!

Singin' in the rain

Summer Life, Leelanau (Mine, That Is)

 

Dear Friends,

 

When people ask how my summer is going, I say, “It’s a blur.” In September, when they ask how it was, I have said for years, “It was a blur,” so I am repeating myself shamelessly, but that single word captures the feeling so concisely that my answer admits of no improvement. 

 

Summer does, however, slow down on my days off. Days off! What a concept! 

 

For years I kept my bookstore open seven days a week from Memorial Day to Labor Day. Ah, but I was younger then, for one thing. For another, many of us discovered in the COVID-19 year of 2020 how much more human we felt when we weren’t pushing ourselves to be “productive” every single day. 

 

We still work hard, those of us Up North with what are still largely seasonal businesses, and it isn’t always easy balancing the demands of business with maintaining our homes and gardens and social lives, but homes and their outdoor settings and time with visiting friends and family, as well as relaxing with life partners and pets – all these precious aspects of life have moved up on the priority list since the experiences of 2020. So if you miss me on Sunday or Monday, I’m sorry, but I’ll be back Tuesday morning, with the door open.

 

I do love my summer days at home! And after recharging with a day or two of mowing grass and hanging laundry out on the line and playing with my dog and helping the Artist with barn chores, I love going back to my bookstore! 

 

Reading Report

 

9     92.  Lively, Penelope. DANCING FISH AND AMMONITES: A MEMOIR (nonfiction)

9   93.  Shoemaker, Sarah. MR. ROCHESTER (fiction)

Only two books added to my Books Read 2021 list this past week, and one was a re-read. That was Sarah Shoemaker’s brilliant novel, Mr. Rochester, which I had not re-read for a while and which captivated me all over again. So good!!! I can’t understand why there was not a bidding war among publishers to determine who would have the rights to this novel, and I am amazed that there is not yet a film version in production, although the book came out in 2017. Whether or not you have read Jane Eyre, if you have not read Mr. Rochester, make time this summer!

 

I lingered voluptuously over Mr. Rochester, stretching it out over several nights and mornings, but read quickly through Penelope Lively’s memoir, Dancing Fish and Ammonites, thinking as I read that this is a memoir more for writers than for the general public. Writers are all too often asked, “Where do you get your ideas?” and while most find the question maddening and unanswerable, Lively’s memoir does a good job of explaining it in the case of her own work. 

 

 

What’s Happening in Northport Report

 

Almost all the usual events are back on in Northport this year, except for the Fly-In/Pancake Breakfast in August and Leelanau UnCaged in September, both cancelled but due to return in 2022.

 

There were fireworks for the 4^th of July, with a reading of the Declaration of Independence that morning on the post office steps, and we will have, once again, dog parade in August! The 2021 theme is "2021: A Space Pawdyssey" (coincidental, what with the Virgin Galactic flight, eh?) and I’ll have more details coming up soon.

 

The library author series is back, also, and this Tuesday will be author Cari Noga. Her presentation will begin at 7:30 p.m. at the Northport Arts Association Building on 3^rd Street (a roomier venue than the library), and I will be on hand to sell books following her talk – books she will happily sign for those making purchases. 

 

Meanwhile, that same evening back at David Grath’s gallery on Waukazoo Street, an old friend of the Artist from Kalamazoo, James Burkett and another musician friend of his, will give a free concert, beginning (I think) at 7 p.m. 

 

Yes, it is a conflict – for the Artist and me -- but that is summer, folks. Wednesdays the Jeff Hass Trio performs at the Union on Waukazoo Street, and Friday nights are Music in the Park, and there is not a single day or evening of any summer week without something going on. – Which reminds me that tonight, Monday the 12^th, there is an opening at Pier Wright’s gallery on Mill Street from 6 to 9 p.m. We hope to be there. Maybe we’ll see you?

 

 

Peasy Report

 

Peasy absolutely loves our Sundays together, all three of us working and playing outdoors all day, maybe going for a ride in the early evening, and seeing a dog’s happiness is a bond-strengthening joy for the dog’s human companions. Plus, Peasy let me clip three toenails on Sunday morning! Three!

 

Here’s another day-at-home dog note: When I pick raspberries, little Pea accompanies me and picks a few for himself, pulling one berry at a time off the canes with his lips, just as my dog before Sarah used to do. (Many, many years ago the Artist and I had another fruit-eating dog. In fact, Barkis would eat anything -- even lemons -- but raw smelt. There he drew the line.) 

Sadly, Peasy is not such a cute, funny boy when I drop a clothespin on the ground. Clothespins are triggers for him, for some reason, and they bring out his inner Mr. Hyde. Confrontation! So I have now added to our regular lessons periods of Sit and Stay while I drop a clothespin and pick it up, over and over.

And so, as sand through the hourglass, are the days and the dogs of our lives….

 

July in its infinite variety

Summer days. They can be good days from morning ‘til night, somewhat uncomfortable (we don’t often say “hot” in northern Michigan), or bring crop-damaging storms. “What’s it like here in the winter?” visitors ask. Well, what’s it like now, in the summer? It varies – enormously!

Do you tell yourself you’ll do such-and-such when you “have more time”? You never will. Each day that slips away is forever gone. That why those of us who work all summer don’t want to waste a moment of precious days off.

Bruce worked in the bookshop for me on Wednesday, giving me a chance to drive down past the Glen Lake Narrows to pick up books from Leelanau Press. The dunes were lovely, the water sparkling. It could have been a good beach day. Instead, my patient canine companion and I went home to her once-a-month bath, after which we lolled around outdoors in the shade, enjoying the breeze. Well, she lolled. I hung laundry on the line, clothes and towels that dried so fast in the hot wind that I was able to run through the routine more than once.

*  *  *

Here I want to backtrack for a minute to the “different roads” theme of the other day, with a few more images of Leelanau's summer variety, today showing you small, hidden-away waters, because sometimes I think I love these as much if not more than the magnificent lakes. They are modest secrets, but you can find them if you look. 

Along one of our favorite back roads this month I also discovered a wildflower I haven’t seen for years, on this road or anywhere else. The stalk is slender and tall, standing at the height of my hip; the flower is bright but very small. Because it is neither large nor massive, the plant is easily overlooked (so perhaps it’s been there for years, and I was simply missing it), even when one is on foot.

I remembered seeing it once before, and I can even conjure up the immediate surroundings but cannot put that mental picture on a larger map. The name of the plant eluded me until the end of the day, when suddenly I exclaimed, “Deptford pink! That’s what it was!” Much to David’s bemusement. Another flower....

*  *  *

Another change of topic – Thursday’s guest author:

Kelly Fordon was charming, relaxed, and personable. We were a small group but entirely caught up in her reading, though I had already read and so knew what was going to happen at the end of that first surprising story. It is always a pleasure to meet an author whose writing I have admired, and I was very grateful to the weather gods for backing that heat off and giving us more comfortable temperatures for a bookstore event.

Kelly signed a few extra copies of Garden For the Blind, and Karen Trolenberg stopped by near the end of the day with a couple more copies of Flight of Megizzewas, which she kindly signed.

July light is heart-breakingly lovely. July is generous in giving us long days, each  unique and never to come again. I hope all of you are able to make the most of your July 2016, wherever you are.