Never Ending Summer Ends
The orange cones will forever be there and today's Bloody Mary is as likely as tomorrow's sunrise.
That is how summer begins.
"It got down to thirty-two degrees at Fort McCoy last night," said my sweet Sven.
That is how summer ends.
"Good bye," I had said to my office, in June.
Hunter, my writing assistant, was mortified.
"What am I supposed to do?" he barked.
"You can nap out in the living room instead," I answered.
He seemed okay with that.
So while Grandma Meow Moses spent her hours sleeping on the landing with a belly full of milk. And Tuna the little problem cat scaled trees and slept in the shade. And my sweet Sven and all his books spent the sunny season under the umbrella at the lake.
I embarked on a Timothy Leary like study in order to learn what would happen if one lived life without the proper balance of work and play.
If one just did whatever one felt like doing.
That is how it came about that I spent the greater portion of the season in a kayak.
Even when it rained, I made sure to enjoy the storm from the back deck.
I never turned down a Bloody Mary.
And, I only vacuumed if it was shitty out.
"What's that Louisa?"
Hang on. My sister is interrupting me.
She doesn't believe me. Says there were not enough shitty days.
Well, she hasn't been over here to see the place.
But what I am really here for, is to discuss the astonishing results of my experiment.
Summer came to an abrupt halt, without warning and in Guinness Book record time.
I had spent the whole enchilada suspended in a trance on top of the water, in a place where time did not exist.
This makes no sense.
If there is no such thing as time, does it exist?
Obviously the answer to this is no.
But, if time does not exist, how does it pass?
Is it wrong to be a pusher?
I asked Louisa to be a part of my experiment since she had a week off work.
I had been lacking company, other than a bunch of foul and deer, a few boats, Amazon Prime and UPS trucks passing by on the quiet lake roads and a few crazy fish who enjoyed jumping out of the water just to hear me scream.
"Come on," I said to her. "We can paddle to the grade and then over to The Thirsty Moose, for lunch."
"Okay," she said.
We took off on what we now refer to as the week of glass.
Never have I seen Lake Wisconsin so calm and still for so many days in a row.
This was good, as Louisa told me from the get go that she is a fair weather kayaker only.
She was zigging and zagging due to the nature of her tiny boat, but she made it. And although our dismounts on the rocky shore were not pretty, we managed to keep our asses out of the lake and traipsed our way up to the window to place our orders and then found a couple seats under an umbrella.
After paddling back to the cottage for my sister's life jacket and phone the following day, we made our way to the grade once again. This time we went under the bridge to get to the other side, like a couple of chickens. This is where I glided over the top of a lily pad several times trying to get into position to take a photo of the pretty flower.
I did not know that Louisa had already successfully snapped a shot.
Please do not be upset. The flower bounced back.
We again stopped in at the Thirsty Moose, as we had become thirsty from all the paddling.
Lunch was very good and so were those screw drivers. I reached behind in order to pull my seat belt strap and nearly adjusted my rear view mirror after getting back in my kayak.
Our third venture was in the opposite direction, to Sticky Bay and then down the third lagoon, where Giselle happens to live, and work from her back deck, which faces the Lagoon.
That turned into meeting Giselle over at The Frog Pond in Arlington for Fish Tacos and Bloody Mary's.
Our next cruise was all the way to Okee Bay.
We had conveniently parked Sven's truck near the little beach over there so that we could load up the kayaks at the end of our journey and then stop in for a bite to eat at Fitz's.
This excursion went well. Except, Louisa forgot to grab her life jacket and I backed Sven's truck into a park bench and broke both the bench and his tail light.
The DNR never found out about Louisa's failure to follow the rules and Sven, being a carpenter, was able to repair the bench before his plates were reported to the police department.
"Why would they stick it in the middle of a parking lot anyway?"
"Millie, it was not in the middle of the parking lot and it over looks the lake," he answered.
Our final adventure together was across the way to Stoner's Bay.
Since we were gaining weight even with all the exercise, we skipped lunch.
This gave me time to go over the results of my study.
It appears that time does not need to exist in order to move forward.
I also managed to get my sister hooked on life without the proper balance of work and play.
Now she only likes the fun stuff.
Now she is back to work.
They say that fall is officially here because it is September twenty-second.
I heard it on the news.
The never ending summer has ended.
I am back in my chair at my desk.
Hunter is snoring next to my feet.
Boy this place could use a good scrubbing.
"What's that Louisa?"
Hang on, my sister is talking again.
She wants to know if life is all work and no play, does time stand still?
And if time stands still, does it pass?
"That is a very good question Louisa. However, I will need to find some volunteers for this study."