Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Here's ANOTHER Fine Library You've Got Me Into....

This one is in Marquette, and it IS a FINE library.  There is the ubiquitous free wifi...but in ths beautiful and spacious old building there is a second floor which has (among the many shelves of books) rows of dark wood desks, each with dividers rendering it private from the next.  There is ample plug-in-place-ness.  And this desk is large enough to accommodate a full-sized laptop and a large bunch of books or other materials.

Mr. Dearling returns to tell me he's found breathtaking reading rooms with fireplaces, wonderful comfortable chairs, &c, where e will happily bide his time while I handle my emails and....ok, I admit it....tend to my little plot on Frontierville in Facebook.  It really is so comfortable here, though, that one is tempted to linger over reading other blogs, checking out all the LOLs (Cute Overload, Historic LOLs, Happy Chair is Happy -- not taking time to put links here, but I suspect I'm not the only one who spends that kind of time chuckling over the available offerings).

We had a couple of errands to tend to "in town" - some purchases, &c - and I find myself feeling an emotion that I forgot I had ever experienced before:  when I was ending my senior year in high school, I had my  First Real Beau, whom I adored.  He took me, on a few occasions, home with him - and "home" was a farm near Aberdeen, South Dakota.  I was introduced to his large family and to my first real experience on a midwestern farm.  There were chickens, a few dairy cows - and he and his father grew crops too, though I disremember what they were.  (It comes to me - that might be where my newly-rediscovered addiction to the glory that is fresh, sweet, RAW milk came from...but I digress.)

Anyway, I chipped in with work, rather than just sit around, and I got pretty decent at collecting eggs and even mucking out the henhouse.  As a result, on the day that his mother and sister were "going in to town", I was allowed to go along and was even given a few dollars of "egg money".

Well -- I found I really did not WANT to "dress up" and go into town shopping.  I managed, and was of course polite to the mother, the sister, and the girl cousin who went with us.  But I found myself wishing I could just "go home" and stay around the cows and so on.  And....today, I found myself sort of feeling that way again!   Mr. Dearling loves coming to this cabin so he can use it as a base camp for his walking tours, &c.  I, on the other hand, LOVE just being THERE. 

My decisions involve "Do I knit on the sofa, or in the rocking chair in front of the fire?"  Or "Is it warm enough to lounge around on the screened-in porch to read?"  or...."how about spending ALL DAY in the loft at that perfect little desk where I can write, uninterrupted, except to gaze out the window at the dancing aspens and fluttering brilliant leaves"? 

I finished another knitting project last night - it had been in the bottom of a basket for about two years, but I discovered the pattern and was able to sort it out and complete it.  It's a yarmulke. But....well, I followed it exactly and used size 1 needles, but - I think I'll have to find a Jewish Sasquatch;  it's rather large.  Oh well - there are dimensions involved and those are numbers (see previous post).

As for right now - I'm happy to wrap it up and "go home" to the cabin.   Mr. Dearling has another outing planned for our last two days here, but I'm staying in.  It's not specious though -- I took out a novel I've been working on, began rereading it from the beginning - and had an EPIPHANY!  I suddenly realized that there was something could be done MUCH better, and I can hardly wait to settle back in at the desk and start my revision!!

Hope you're all enjoying the same rich and beautiful autumn where you are, as we're seeing here.  I'm glad to recall that "peak" should just be about settling in at home so we won't miss it there.  I'll post again from home, the promised tale of the Wonderful Person ( patience, friends, patience!)  I hear my Lovely Daughter chortling;  I'm not known to possess that particular virtue myself.

Back to the absence of innerwebs.  (I wonder - would I relish every instant of this as much, if I didn't know the full range of technology IS at my fingertips at home?)

Monday, October 4, 2010

Sequence?

OK, here's the deal:  I started a blog post several days ago.  But I wasn't where I could post all the pictures I wanted, so I didn't.  So now it's in "EDIT" where I can eventually go tidy it up, fix the date and post it.  Or not, because it'll be out of sequence.

But I think I'm past caring about sequence, so here's the deal:  I will be posting about a Most Remarkable Day (with pictures).  And it won't matter so much about sequence anyway, as it deals with meeting one of the  most interesting, talented women I've had the pleasure to cross the path of.  I'll give you a little teaser:  when I was introduced to her (by Mr Dearling, at a fun event in a nearby town) I did NOT -- I repeat, I did not - squeal, and while (not) jumping up and down, declare "Are you really THE...(her name will appear here).

In the meantime, a few recent details:  first, I am writing from the public library in Munising, Michigan, on the fourth of ten days we're spending in the forest cabin of friends.  It's isolated, beautiful, thoroughly modern.  It's comfortable beyond belief, and is heated by a (gas) potbelly stove.  There are rocking chairs, comfortable sofas and a modern kitchen.  This is the third (I think) year we've had this uncommon privilege.  There IS no internet (hence the library) and there's no teevee (except one we could watch tapes or DVDs on if we had any, but we don't).

Mr Dearling spends his days out hiking and his evenings reading.  I spend my days reading, knitting, writing (fiction), daydreaming and napping.  I also spend my evenings in this manner, with the occasional game of Solitaire.  In my lexicon, this is the definition of "bliss".  So far I have finished two books, completed a muffler and a baby cap, finished about 2/3 of the Mason Dixon "Ball Band Dishcloth" (which I've tried unsuccessfully to figure out COUNTLESS times before) and made real progress on a baby wrap.  I'll post pictures and book reviews shortly (but not today).  I'm keeping a daily journal, some of which may be either blog material or at least notes for same.

I also brought along some games (Yahtzee, Bananagrams, Milles Bornes) which I mean to share with Mr Dearling, and I also brought my little Tarot deck for some study.  And lest ye think I'm frittering - I also have two books along for program preparation for the museum...which is admittedly another form of delight.
So to go back a bit (and so that I can work in SOME pictures, which I feel obligated to include - AM I?  Obligated to put in pictures?  It hangs me up sometimes) - here's what occurred before we came up here:

I have a new beau.  A sweetheart.  My version of Raoul the Pool Boy.  His name is Natty Bumpo. ("Pathfinder", get it?)  His voice actually belongs to a fellow named Simon.  He has a British accent.



For some of us (well, ME) finding our way around in this world is challenging.  I cannot read maps.  I don't do "turn north at the gas station".  I'm a "right" or "left" kinda gal.   Never, in any travels, have I seen roads that are red, or state lines that are bright blue.  Because I am numerically dyslexic, things like "miles" don't mean anything to me.  Enter Natty Bumpo.


This is what he looks like at home.  Yes, I know - "geez, Dale-Harriet, that's just a plain ol' GPS thingie."  YES!  And because there are satellites in the arms of seraphim in the heavens, Natty (Simon) Bumpo can tell me how to get where I am going!!  I've tested him, having him take me places I know.  He works as if by magic (other than the time I was going to Barnes & Noble the back way and he almost had a nervous breakdown because I wouldn't turn around;  he's forgiven me). 

I am loving this thing, and will head off to Racine to my Writers' Fall Retreat confident that he will direct me STRAIGHT to my destination.   I have to admit, there are things in this, the 21st century, that I like.  A lot.

The day is passing, and I'm feeling anxious to leave all this civilization and return to the little refuge in the woods.  I can report that the weather is crisp, nearly freezing at night, and that the fall colors are "at peak" as we say up here.  I do know that I could not be happy living ANYWHERE that didn't have four distinct seasons, one of which was Autumn.  The potbelly warms the whole of the cabin, and I love it dearly.

I will therefore leave you with a picture which reminds me of my happy home, as the ONLY thing that could be described as "lacking" in this heavenly place is, of course, my kitties.  So - mindful of the grace, the dignity, the elegance which is my precious Evangeline:


Worshipful Daughter of Bast


 Watch this space;  we'll be coming back into town for at least one more connection to the Outer World.