Enjoy this October morning

Looking east

Directly across the lake (look carefully and you can see the tree line on the opposite shore)

Looking west

It was 31 degrees out at 8:00 a.m., but the lake was too beautiful for me to remain inside. I sat for a while on the lake steps, taking it all in, until my feet were too cold for me to remain outside.

Another one bites the dust....but which one?

What?
Avila!
What?
Avila!
What?
Avila!

Er....go Tigers.

Bye bye, Bunker Barge...see you in the spring.

Our beloved pontoon is making its last voyage of the year, down the lake to the boat ramp at the Black Lake State Forest Campground, where Mark Miller and Jeff Turi will take it out of the water, winterize it, and store it in Mark's pole barn for the winter.

This annual ritual is made more tolerable this year by our imminent family vacation to Aruba.

Bye bye, Bunker Barge, and in just over 30 days, hello Bunker Bar.

Million Minnow March

At about 6:15 p.m. today, Grandpa and I noticed some lake weed floating in toward shore.

Ken observes the strange phenomenon

The funny thing was, that clump of weed seemed to be moving toward shore a bit faster than you'd think, given the stillness of the lake. And we really knew something was up when the clump suddenly disappeared under the water near shore.

When I went out to the dock to investigate, I saw hundreds of tiny minnows moving from east to west along the shore. We do see minnows from time to time, but never so many and never moving with such purpose in one particular direction.

Peering over the edge of the dock with camera. Bottom to top of frame is east to west.

This went on for so long I finally went inside and had Pa come out. And even though he doesn't move fast, he was fast enough. He stood and watched till his legs complained, and when he got back inside the minnows were still coming.

Every so often, the column would react to sound, movement, or tiny bugs hitting water's surface. But within seconds they would reorganize and resume their migration. This went on for over an hour maybe longer if it started before we noticed.

What gives? Must Google.

Found this poem by Richard Brautigan.

And this journal article, which describes shoaling behavior in response to predation.

Another journal article, this one about shoaling as a defense against parasites.

It is apparently not related to spawning, which occurs in early summer.

Must See to Appreciate: Grandpa's Haircut

"Number one, all over, barber!"

That was Grandpa's instruction as I began his haircut. I've taken on this duty while Grandpa's regular barber is on hiatus. It's quite easy, really, requiring only patience on his part and a steady hand on mine.

Step one is cleaning up the neck, step two is buzzing all the hair off his head. That's where the "number one" comes in: numbered guide combs clip onto the electric clipper for various hair lengths: #1 is the shortest.

Step three: The Hunt. That's what Sherry (regular barber) calls it when she searches over Pa's bald head for stragglers. Grandpa says The Hunt takes longer than the cut.

Next comes the beard. For this, I use barber shears. Comb it all out thoroughly, and clip and shape it like a hedge.

Then the delicate matter of eyebrows, ears and mustache. Clippers on the shortest possible setting, no guide comb. How do you cut hair on eyebrows, ears, and upper lip? Carefully. Veeerrry carefully.

Ta Da!

These photos don't capture the drama of before and after, but do show a happy barber and customer.

They wouldn't even recognize him at the Duck.

Conversation at the Dirty Duck

Ken: Well, that's just water over the bridge. 

Me: What? 

Ken: You know, water over the bridge. 

Me: (to Pa) Did you hear what he said? 

Pa: Nope. 

Me: He said "that's just water over the bridge." 

Pa: (Laughs, shakes head.) He's funnier by accident than I am on purpose.

Taking in the lake view on the dock

Here's Grandpa on the dock today after our pontoon ride across the lake. Perfectly content to just sit and stare at the lake, which was especially calm and beautiful today. The weather turned out to be perfect for his visit. In the 70s during the day, cool at night, not much wind, lots of sun.

Grandpa is one of those rare individuals that gets to stare at water no matter where he is. The Grand River at home, Black Lake up north.

Also beautiful.

Can you figure out what this is?

If you've been to the cottage, you might recognize the objects in the photo on close inspection. But the pattern on the wall (northeast corner of the sunporch) was sunlight dappled by leaves, streaming through windows it only penetrates in the fall when the sun sets further south over the lake.

My god that's beautiful.

Those words escaped my lips when I looked out the window at this:


This time of year, with the sun lower in the sky, we get these diamond scattered views on sunny days. It happens during the summer, too, but not this brilliantly. The photo is pretty, but of course doesn't do it justice.

Here's a shot without all the paraphernalia in it:

 And look how the lights look like constellations against the wave patterns near the dock:

Doppelgänger

"Who do you look like?" 

I've often asked this question of people who remind me of someone in my life, or maybe a celebrity, living or dead. (Sometimes it's an animal or cartoon character, but I don't usually tell them that.) 

But other than my parents (both of them) or Ken (to whom a casual friend referred as my "half-twin stepbrother), it's a bit unusual for me to be compared to anyone, be it a celebrity or other lesser player. My face isn't remarkable for any particular feature; pleasing overall, I've been told, but average in its parts.

So it's fun when a similarity appears. At Richard Thomsen's memorial service back in 2009, Steve Wildern (Nancy Kammer's husband) and I were similarly attired and similarly coiffed, and both wearing dark-framed glasses.

Now I doubt that anyone would mistake us for each other on the street (he has blue eyes, I wear lipstick), but you get the idea. Since then, I've referred to him fondly as "my Doppelgänger." (I also like to think we're both smart and funny. He is, for sure.)

I told you that story so I could tell you this one:

Last year, one of Steve's Facebook friends posted a picture of him, again in a suit, probably on the job at the Wayne County Community College Performing Arts Center where he is the facility manager and associate dean.

I commented, "Lookin' mighty fine, my doppelganger." 

To which our mutual friend Dick Hill replied, "Your doppelganger?....hell, at first glance I thought Steve was Bill Clinton!" Several other commenters agreed.

This inspired Steve to create a Venn diagram (a diagram that shows all possible logical relations between a finite collection of sets, according to Wikipedia) of himself, me, and Bill Clinton.

I just ran across it yesterday, while looking through my computer's download file. It had its moment on Facebook last year, but I wanted to be sure this would live on in family history and lore.

So here it is: A diagram of Steve Wildern, Karen Stock, and Bill Clinton.*

*  Technically, this diagram should show "all possible relations between a finite collection of sets." I think I need not go into detail about the kinds of relations that might have been left off of the diagram in the interest of taste and discretion.

Lightning show at midnight

Imagine this: It is sunset, the sky lit with horizontal streaks of burgundy, gold, and slate blue.

Now imagine the sun disappears abruptly, leaving a darkened sky. Then the lights flicker on again for an instant, and against the colors of the sunset, lightning streaks from cloud to horizon.

That's what it was like last night. Flashes in the south and southwest, lighting up a colored sky in short flickering bursts, taking turns grabbing my attention--first in the south, then a bigger flash in the southwest, then the south again.

But no sound.

So that meant, I reckoned, it was a big storm, but still far away. Making the lightning flashes even more impressive.

Here's the radar from last night (early this morning, really--about 12:45 a.m.). I took the photo off an "app" on my smartphone called "Radar Now." Thunder came, eventually, but in deep, long rolls, not booming cracks. Finally, I went to bed, and I'm guessing (because I was able to sleep) the storm died down as it approached, maybe because of the lake.

I wish Ken could have been here--he would have loved it so much.

My birthday boat ride and Hack-Ma-Tack

My birthday! 61 years old, 365 days till Social Security!

The day was a bit cool but so pretty and sunny, so Ken suggested a birthday boat ride. We went up the river, which is the best approach on a cool day--less wind and more warmth. Even so, it was cool enough for a sweatshirt and a makeshift muff. The trees are still green but you can see the color shifting toward yellow and orange around the edges.

This little buck was finding something on the ground to eat (there was an apple tree nearby) in a yard along the way. He was watchful, but apparently sensed no danger from us. He moved through the yard, feeding as he went, as we passed by in the pontoon.

And finally, at the Hack-Ma-Tack for our dinner, this year sponsored by The Topologist. This is our tradition on my birthday for several years running. We eat in the bar. One year, Joe called to wish me happy birthday during dinner and ended up driving up that night, spontaneously, with Ashley. And another year, we met another 9-16 birthday girl--this one in her eighties--and had fun chatting with her while she and her son and daughter-in-law waited for their table. This year it was just us, and that's always a nice thing, too.

What a good guy.

Ken expanded Wellington garden today. It was hard work because he did it right - cut and removed the sod. This will make it easier both for me to adjust the plantings and him to mow around them. Completely his idea. Thanks, Kenny!

Sarah and Matt's Wedding and Reception

Saturday, the day of Sarah's wedding, we met Joe and Ashley downtown and had a nice brunch at the Twisted Olive. After knocking around Petoskey a while for some last minute shopping we all headed back to our respective hotels to get ready for the 4 p.m. wedding.

The Detroit and Dewitt Stocks traveled to the wedding in the humble Subaru, but Adam joined Graham Austin in the Holiday Inn's limousine for the trip to the Crouse Chapel (in the Bayview Association area).

 

Matt and Sarah's wedding was the first ever non-member wedding in the chapel. Wally must have been very persuasive! The chapel was a comparatively modest structure with lovely stained glass windows. 

The wedding party lingered outside the chapel for a casual reception line. Joe got a special hug for being a reader in the wedding. He read aloud the "Apache Wedding Prayer," a poetic fiction created for the movie Broken Arrow:

"Now you will feel no storms, for each of you will be shelter to the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. Now there is no loneliness, for each of you is companion to the other, You are two persons, but there is one life before you, and one home. Turn together to look at the road you traveled, to reach this---the hour of your happiness. It stretches behind you into the past. Look to the future that lies ahead. A long and winding, adventure-filled road, whose every turn means discovery, new hopes, new joys, new laughter, and a few shared tears. May happiness be your companion, May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead; And through all the years to come. Go this day to your dwelling place and enter into your days together. May your days be good and long upon the earth. Your adventure has just begun."

The reception was only a few miles from the chapel by car, but in a different universe aesthetically. As opposed to the quaint simplicity of the chapel, Bay Harbor is like Disneyworld for the wealthy.

The lake view in front of the Inn was world class, and as they say in the tourism ads, pure Michigan.

Sarah did a great job of getting around to visit folks at the wedding--always a challenge for the couple. Of course, Adam and Joe are easy to visit.

Once the dancing started, Ken and I stayed for a while but finally left Adam to enjoy the company of people his own age and went back to the hotel. He caught the limo for the ride back once the party broke up.

The next day the groom's family hosted a brunch at the Inn. This is done more and more when the wedding is far from home for many of the guests, and that was certainly the case here. Many visitors had traveled from England, and some from South Africa.

After the brunch the Joe Stocks headed back to Detroit and the rest of us made haste for the cottage, where we spent a few hours before Adam and I had to leave for the airport. Adam's flight was a late one, but mercifully, on time, so he arrived in New York at the expected hour and was able to get some sleep before work the next morning.

Great wedding, and for us, a welcome visit with our own kids.

Here is a link to our photos from the weekend on Flickr. And another link with more pictures of the Stock family at the wedding.

Knot Just A Rehearsal Dinner

The girl next door is getting married tomorrow. And when I say next door, I mean literally next door on White Pine Drive (growing up, at least). But now Sarah Dutkowski lives in London and gets home only rarely, so this full weekend of wedding activities is a really nice chance to see her and get to know fiance Matt Welsford and his friends. Adam flew in from Manhattan, and the Detroit Stocks will be in attendance as well.

Ken and Adam golfed with Wally on Friday morning at Bay Harbor, along with a nice chap named Duncan (with Sarah, below)--a friend of Matt's. They all had a great time, and Duncan was nice enough to sit with us at "Knot Just a Bar" and shoot the breeze while we waited for the arrival of the wedding party (post-rehearsal dinner),

Also kind enough to sit and keep us entertained was Graham Austin, another of Matt and Sarah's friends (on the left in photo above). The other fellow is Ollie Tritton, Matt's best man. Charming young men.

We really enjoyed visiting with Sarah's lovely younger sister, Laura, who lives in Los Angeles. It must be hard for Wally and Sheryl to have them both so far away. They are so much fun, two great gals.

Wally and Sheryl with Kathy and Tom Dominguez. They were conserving their energy for the big day to come.

Kate and Garrett's wedding at the old home place

The wedding couple, Kate Geisler and Garrett Harabedian, after the ceremony.

I left the cottage on Saturday over Labor Day weekend so I could travel to Watervliet on Sunday for Kate Geisler's wedding. I have LOTS of photos--too many to include here--but these will give a peek at the setting: what was once my Woodruff grandparents' home, now the home of Kate's mother and father, Pat and Geoff Geisler. The place looked beautiful. When I get the photos loaded to Flickr I will link them here.

The flower girls didn't want to yield the altar to the bridal couple and had to be pulled back to their seats.

Looking from the site of the ceremony back toward the house. Note Grandma and Grandpa Woodruff's sap buckets, pressed into service as pots for a row of white geraniums.

581 Paw Paw Avenue--great memories from childhood live here.

Labor Day Weekend, 2013: Girls and Schneiders and Kayaks

This year, for various reasons, none of our other kids were able to come for the weekend but Jonna and her tribe saved the day (weekend)!

The girls came up late Thursday night. Friday we rode out a bit of a storm (see previous post) but spent a lovely, clear evening on the beach with John and Sharon after dinner at Rosa's.

Jonna proved she was up to the challenge of photo-bombing family photos, a skill Adam mastered long ago.

I brought the ice cream ball along to the beach so we could all participate in the creation and enjoy the scrumptiousness of homemade ice cream. Although not all were enthusiastic about taking their turns at shaking, the resulting product was delicious indeed. The thing is pretty dang heavy, I'll say that.

While I was up at the cottage stirring the ice cream, John brought out a pack of BIG sparklers for the girls to play with. It's always fun to see the pure enjoyment on HIS face when the fireworks come out. The first time he and Sharon visited us on Black Lake, he brought along some fireworks (not strictly legal at that time), and once it was sufficiently dark, set them off on the end of the dock. By that time of night he was smoking a cigar, and as he walked out on the dock to start the show, he had it clenched in his grinning teeth, in the manner of Franklin Roosevelt. The man has a mischievous streak a mile wide.

With very few artificial lights to dim the sky, it was dark and full of stars. We all stood in amazement at the black, light-speckled ceiling, silence broken only by exclamations of wonder. I saw the longest shooting star I've ever seen, and Melissa saw it, too. The photo left isn't mine, but is the best I could find to represent the one we saw.

As we sat enjoying the night sky (and our ice cream), John exclaimed and pointed toward the horizon. "Northern Lights!" he said.

I grabbed another Internet photo to represent what we saw. Although there was no purple in our view, it was the same general pattern as above--smears of green light shooting up from the horizon and flashing gently as we watched. John wrote about it in his blog a couple days later.

What a bloody magical evening.

Seeking to re-enact accomplishments from their kayak trip two weeks earlier, the girls strapped on iPhones and set out for another beautiful trip on the lake. I was only too proud to have provided the unifying fashion theme: bandanas.

Jonna takes the little L.L. Bean kayak, Melissa the Pungo 14, and Shaina the Pungo 12. Melissa takes very good care of my best paddle, the super light one that Pa picked out to go with the third kayak he and Mom provided for our cottage boatyard.

A final shot from the weekend--one of my apricot daylilies in full bloom in Wellington Garden.