All quiet at Loon Lake

At 4:13PM Friday, my wife Paula finished staining the camp. She came down off the 45’ articulating lift, and said she was never getting back on it again. She painted about 95% of the house herself, and did all of the trim. Everything got 2 coats. She started last Fall, doing the enclosed porches, and the level beneath them. For the last 4 weeks, she has been in the lift, just about every day.

I have been here as well, working from camp, and keeping her safe and provisioned. Doing the cooking, laundry and cleaning.

Having been here for five weeks straight has convinced us we know how to live here full time. Giving thought to putting our house in the Capital District on the market.

This is the first day I have not had my thoughts interrupted by the lift motor starting up. Paula headed down to Albany overnight, to help with a grandkid. So I am solo, here at camp. And I am reveling in the silence. I am also not tied to the camp. Whatever to do?

I took Porter up the Crusher early. We were back by 6 to wake up Paula. I walked the dogs, and then took my coffee down to the North Branch of the Saranac. I put on waders and walked the stream. Caught a few trout. Lost a few lures. And my wading stick.

I ran into Saranac Lake for a few things, and had lunch at Teddy’s in Bloomingdale.

For the first time this year, I swam the dogs. Water temperature today was 70. Doing it differently, as they get older. Took them each to the water solo. Carson, is turning 14 this year. He is partially deaf, and blind in one eye. He loves the water, but I need to precisely place the retrieving dummies in front of him. We did some short gentle retrieves.

I am sitting on one of the screened in porches, having a cigar and a gin and tonic. I could listen to music, but instead I am enjoying the sounds of the lake. Someone else’s dog is barking (the best kind of dog bark). It does not bother me in the least. One boat and three kayaks have gone by. Burgers are thawing for the grill, later.

One of my Sons is coming up on Sunday, for a few days. It will be our youngest grandchild’s (No. 9) first visit to camp. Will put her two older sisters to work, gathering birch bark, and stacking wood. Been saving all the difficult wood to split for their father to tackle.

Life, in short, is good.

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