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August, 2005

The retired one’s August Epistle


Honey, were home!!!

Well, It doesn’t get much better than this. Months on end at the Bee.
It was a little schizophrenic at first. We had just arrived from Europe and within days we were off for a 6-week drive around the continent. 10,235 miles later, we were back at the Bee.

But wait.

We were off again. We had arrived just in time to attend my grandfather’s memorial service in Ottawa. He had passed at Christmas but his ashes were only now being interred in a ceremony that was attended by family gathered from all over the country. The ceremony was also attended by a large contingent of veterans and a military honor guard complete with a bagpipe player. It was a dignified, classy, elegant affair that was truly fitting the 6th remaining WW1 Canadian veteran out of 600,000 who fought.

The following day the extended family was invited to a ceremony that the retirement home he had lived in had organized. They were dedicating a wing of the home in his honor and had invited a whole gaggle of guests ranging from the mayor to representatives of government. There were no less than 4 camera crews from local TV stations in attendance.
Wow. I doubt they will make half this much fuss when I go….

Back at the Bee once again, we dug in for the long haul. Unfortunately, the boat had been docked for a while and unbeknownst to us the automatic bilge pump had run down the battery. So, our first bright morning back home we jumped in the boat to go to breakfast and do a little laundry. I turned the key and….nothing. Not a minor issue when you live on an island. I didn’t even have to ask who was going to get in their swimsuit and swim over to our neighbors to borrow a battery charger…
You will no doubt not be surprised to know that Honey Bee Island now sports one of the biggest battery chargers around.

It quickly got better, though. I spent a little extra time setting up my bride’s outdoor kitchen also. We are not just “camping” here for a little while like we have done the past few summers. This time we are here for months so it called for better preparation for the inevitable butt kicking thunderstorms to come. I reinforced the framing below the large tarp so that we can look as well as live like true refugees. The next time you see a news story about the starving Africans under a tarp out in the desert you can say, “hey, Janice has a kitchen like that!” Ironically, this while I am almost feeling guilty about cooking on the BBQ for the stars.

We are finding that it takes us a good week or two to get completely in the swing of things when we arrive either here or in France. It’s like there is a little bit of “ dislocation syndrome” It’s a combination of having to have phones turned back on, relocating tools and just plain re-acquainting ourselves with the project. I spent an hour just looking at my plumbing wondering, “why on earth did I do that?” Then, it finally hit me. “Of course, I thought, that makes perfect sense!” I had finally surmounted my “dislocation syndrome”


One of us has to go…

Janice spotted a squirrel on the loose. Big deal, you say. Well it is when you consider that we are on an island with no way for him to get off and we have an outdoor kitchen, remember?
How did he get here? By crossing over the ice and snow in the winter. It took me forever to trap (and release) him on the mainland.

That done, the waters we swim in near the dock once again became a weed free zone. (Relax my liberal friends, I didn’t “kill” them, I “harvested” them after they grew back from last year) Next, we turned on the propane powered mosquito magnet and sprayed the snot out of the place with bug spray and the Bee became a bug free zone. We have found that many of the effective bug sprays and varmint chemicals available to us in the US are not here. Canada is so green peace lovey dovey liberal that they have ruled “effective” out of the equation. We are beginning to address that deficiency.
Weed and bug free does not mean that we kill everything in sight. The lily pads on the river around the island are in full bloom and their flowers are big and beautiful. Janice has also become our resident bird watcher. It is hysterical to see her sitting on the porch with her binoculars; Oooooing and Aaahhing with her “birds of the North East” book in her lap. Just as long as she doesn’t go out there and start hugging trees……

Finally, we decided that it was high time to go hog wild and get high speed internet and turn Honey Bee Island into a WI-FI hot spot. For you “rubes” out there (non techno types) hot spot means that besides serious whop-de-do, you can operate a wireless laptop to access the Internet from anywhere on the island. (In fact, our closest neighbors in the US can also, on our network) Let it never be said that we don’t have our priorities straight. No flushing toilet yet but wireless Internet and satellite TV.


Are we having fun yet?

We jumped right in on our little remodeling project with Janice painting doors and my getting the last of our living room windows installed. The latter provide a lot of eye candy and give us a much needed sense of “this going somewhere” when weeks can pass with little visible results. Next came the last of the trench digging to complete the grey water plumbing system (I hate digging trenches) and finally hooking up the water pump in the river. Some of this infrastructure is taking longer to install than it normally would in part because we are planning for our being able to operate all of this equipment at an older age. The pump is raised and lowered in the river at the beginning and end of each season by an electrical winch so that an old man wont have to crawl in the river to drag it out by hand in the future.

We were invited to an art show in Clayton (US side). Our friend and neighbor Fran Ferrari had a few of her paintings on display. It was a classy wine and cheese affair and we had a great time. While not the only measure of her talent, the fact that both of her paintings sold for several hundreds of dollars each within minutes of the opening is one indication of our “artist’s” skills. That done, we went out to dinner with her family where they had the chance to show off their brand spanking new, barely-out-of-the-womb grandson.

While we don’t do it on purpose, occasionally we end up back at our marina ready to go home well after dark. Janice used to be much more apprehensive but each time it comes up she is getting more matter of fact about it. We are getting to know the river, shoals, rocky outcrops, islands and buoys like the back of our hand.
Yea, we know. You think, “they have to do this?” We think,” we get to do this!”

We have noticed that since we have arrived we have had little need for clothes. Because of both the heat and the work we do in the river we spend all day in our swimsuits and could reduce our clothing budget to zero. Were it not for the boaters that pass by we could reduce our swimsuit budget to zero but I need to keep a little mystery in this marriage.

Every year I look forward to returning to the Bee. It’s like reporting to the fat farm. I work my buns off in ways that I don’t anywhere else and it is the only way I seem to loose a little bit of the fat man belly and return to being a lean mean loving machine.

Our daily swims are great. Our arrival in early June was an eye opener though. I assumed that since we always swam every day before and the water temperature was always great, I would just run down to the dock and hurl myself into the river to get the season off to a start. Boys and girls, I am here to tell you that the water temperature in early June is….different. I looked like the cartoon character “Roadrunner”. I levitated out of the water and skimmed the surface like a jet ski to the swim ladder on the dock. Janice said that all she could see was a blur of arms and legs flailing towards the shore. But this is August, and the water is heaven.
My poor fishing friends would just cry. I like to swim with a mask to enjoy our aquarium. Under our dock lie a school of pan sized fish that nip at your heels if you stand still. Last summer Cassie used to fish not with a rod and reel, hooks and bait but with a bucket.

A bucket!

She could just throw the bucket in the water, let it sink near the bottom of the side of the dock (the water is so clear you can easily see everything) and wait a moment. Soon, fish would enter to explore and Voila!

Great, but I don’t fish.

It seems like we just got here and we are already planning our next travel cycle. We just finished purchasing all our airplane tickets and booked all our return reservations. There has been a slight change in our plans. Upon further reflection, we decided not to drive back to the West coast before returning to Langoat. We are going to fly to Seattle to see the kids then fly to LA. We will rent a car for the 10 days we will be in Southern California then fly from LA to Paris.

Well I am off. If in September’s Epistle I don’t have a flushing toilet and working kitchen to write about there is going to be a sad boy around here…as I may be here all by myself..


XO Michael