December, 2014

PLAN BEE

For some time now we have been yammering about this big-o-honkin article about the island that was to appear in Cottage Life magazine. The writer and photographers spent 3 days each separately with us the summer before last, getting their story together, and it was finally published last month. 

It is what I am told the magazine world calls a 'puff piece',  a 10 page feature spread intended to keep the summer cottage folks fires burning in anticipation of Spring. With a million readers, it gets quite a bit of coverage in the cottage community. I have reproduced it here although some enlargement of the text might be required to actually read it. ( Ctrl and + key)

Granddaughter Kayla blowing bubbles on our dock

At the risk of driving this thing into the ground even though at this point I think I already have, we got word that the televised segment that was shot this past summer at the Bee by the Cottage Life Television Network (as opposed to the magazine folks), aired on December 9th and it is being syndicated internationally. We thought it turned out pretty well and we have a You Tube version of it here for you to see. How our little bit of paradise has generated this kind of attention is beyond us.

Mothers world

Last fall we spent some time just before we left putting Janice's mothers affairs in order after she lost her husband Vern. Over the summer she decided it was time to move into a senior retirement home here in San Luis Obispo. She packed her clothes and a few pieces of furniture and moved out of her double wide mobile home. 

She then waited for our arrival in November for us to empty the house of its furnishings and contents and to put it up for sale. We spent the better part of two weeks working daily to get it done, then checked that box and moved onto doing the maintenance that our own home needed before tackling our big project for this season. 

Meanwhile,  we unloaded the furniture we had brought on our trailer from New York and a piece we could not live without that we found in Idaho while visiting our favorite son Wesley. We are thrilled with the new acquisitions as they fit into the eclectic decor that our home here demands.

Remember this from last month?

Well, here it is. The wood is Blue Pine.

Last June, we asked our sawyer friend who had built a few pieces of future for us at the Bee, if he could find us a piece similar to what we had seen in a shop in California. We wanted to take it and a one of a kind office desk we had commissioned him to make for us, back to California on our little trailer. 

Weeks later, he called and said that he thought that he had found it. We drove 10 miles out into the woods with him and walked through a muddy field to find what you see below. It is a Red Cedar stump, or is it a root gone wild still stuck in the ground? Of course, it was perfect! Wouldn't everyone want one of these?

By September it was ready to go. Having drug that thing and the live edge Butternut and Ash desk all through hell and gone across the country to get home, it was a done deal.

Command central, where all the brain work occurs.

This is our new wine rack. What you see is an optical illusion as you see it reflected in the 10 foot high ( 3+ meter) mirror behind it with a view of part of the kitchen seen in the mirror also. I point this out so you don't think that we are bigger lushes than we already are.

Here is to a Merry Christmas and a happy New year.

November, 2014

My boss lied to me

10 years ago this month, my boss lied to me. He told me that retirement would be "Great!". The truth is that it has been nothing short of spectacular. I get up most mornings and pinch myself, wondering if I will wake up and suddenly discover that it is all just a dream. We have been blessed beyond anything we deserve and we will continue to milk this thing until we are pushing up daisies and the party is over. As the Irish would say "May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead"

To add to the festivities, we had our final (?) mortgage burning party this month. It is the third in 30 years. The grass looks greener, the carpet feels softer under our feet, the birds sing louder, the sky is bluer...you get the idea. There is a sense of freedom and security in knowing that for the first time in your life you owe absolutely nothing to anyone for anything. Amen.

The daughters

Two of our girls had a big month.The big news from Mandy is that she will soon be a married woman. Her guy Markus popped the question on Halloween and after being together for 11 years, she decided he was a keeper.

Next was daughter Kami who got a big write up from a firm that supplies the props for decorating the sets for the film industry, among others. Kami's current project is working on the set of American Horror Story. You can see more pictures and read the whole article about her career HERE

Naturally, we are proud of all our girls.

 

  California or bust (part II)

We left off last month mid way during our drive home from the Island. We did have the opportunity to re-visit the "Crazy Horse" memorial, the world's largest mountain carving, located in the Black Hills of South Dakota. If you are not familiar with the site, it is located minutes away from Mount Rushmore with its gigantic carving of 4 of our presidents figures in a mountain. 'Crazy Horse' is another mountain carving only on a much larger scale.

Here you can see where the horse's head will be carved.
 His outstretched arm will be 263' (80m) long

Foreground shows what the finished carving will look like. The hole you see in the background in the mountain below the face is 90' (30m) tall and is the opening 
under the armpit. The entire carving will be 641' (195m) long and 563' (171m) tall.

To put the size in perspective, all four of the presidents figures on Mount Rushmore easily fit within this Indians face. This privately funded project was begun by one man in 1948, but now has hundreds of workers and is a multi generational project. We last visited 20 years ago and could see little difference in spite of the year round work. I am always encouraged by those who tackle projects bigger than mine.

Next on the travel agenda was Amy's family, north of Seattle Washington near the Canadian border. The visit was the usual circus show with 5 grand kids crawling all over us. A fun time was had by all. 

The final stop before the race home was to be daughter Cassie's family by the Oregon state line. I say was to be, because a funny thing happened to our best laid plans. They went up in smoke.

The first of 5 U haul loads

We arrived at a moment when there was a little family drama and had to move her and the kids into an apartment nearby. The process of coordinating and pulling this little stunt off took the better part of two weeks, but during our visit we were subjected to a little weather event.

 Its OK, we survived the tornado!

We were in her house during a severe storm when we saw the wind blow some insulation over the roof of Cassie's house onto the street. A localized tornado had ripped roofs off buildings, launched large yard toys through windows, uprooted trees and sent shocked residents scrambling just two streets away from us. Yikes!

This is all that's left of a trampoline that was thrown
 through a house on a neighboring street.

Just as we were winding down our time with Cassie, we found out that grandson Alex would soon be released from the hospital (now out of his coma)  and his family was unsure as to where he would go as he is still suffering from a traumatic brain injury and is clearly unable to be on his own.

Visiting Alex

With two kids in need at opposite ends of the state, the solution was to leave Janice with Cassie to help her get settled in and for me to head back north 200 miles to Amy's for a week. This was to help my son in law Vance build a room addition to their modular home and make room for Alex when he arrives. 

This porch area was to be converted into a bedroom

View of the porch facing the house

Removing deck and ceiling to insulate

Let the games begin... Christopher helping by handing me screws

Last day when I left. Only drywall, paint and furniture left to do

Home sweet home 

We arrived home 3 weeks later than planned after covering over 6,000 miles (9700 km). The house was in great kit but it is obvious that no one takes care of your property as well as you do. It was time for us to clean up, fix up and well...what else? Renovate, of course! 

This year we have some small projects planned but one biggie for sure. We are planning to tear out an 11' X 17' wall (4M X 5M)  and replace a fireplace and a whole bank of windows. We plan to begin this part of the project January 1, minutes after the kids who will come to visit for Christmas leave.

We did get our trailer load of furniture we brought back from upstate New York home, and this morning we also took delivery of a 350 pound (160 K) piece you can see below that we had shipped from Montana while we were there. We should have it unwrapped to do a little show and tell next month.

Meanwhile, we will entertain and catch up with friends, enjoy the sunny warm weather, hang out at the beach and do what we Californians do.

 

October, 2014

Alex

The purpose of writing our little monthly newsletter is to keep family and friends 'in the loop' as to where we are and what is going on in our lives, both good and bad. Unfortunately, we have to start this month's post with really bad news. A few weeks ago, our 21 year old grandson (the oldest of daughter Amy's kids) had a motorcycle accident and has been in a semi coma since. He has begun to show some really good progress, now walking and some speaking. Progress, in whatever form it takes, will be measured in months or longer, according to his doctors.

Alex was wearing a helmet but he suffered bleeding on the brain, in his lungs, broken ribs but few cuts and contusions. No other vehicle was involved. Alex lives in Idaho and is in a hospital in Kalispell near the Canadian border. He was in his final quarter of college, heading for a career in law enforcement. He is Christopher's older brother who you know as the little guy born with Spina Bifida.

On the road, again...

It is hard for anyone who does not experience closing up a residence for 8 months in the great white North, to know just how stressful it really is. People usually think you just need to bring in the furniture off the patio, lock all the doors and windows, turn off the power and go.

HA! I wish.

I won't bore you with recounting the 2 page checklist of items that need to be attended to, but suffice it to say that I am oh-so-very-aware how many of them would be.. well maybe I shouldn't be dramatic and say "catastrophic'  but would be... bloody catastrophic if they got omitted!!! On the day before we leave, what I have dubbed "D" day, the entire water system gets drained. Any water left anywhere in the plumbing system, the toilet, boat or jet ski will freeze over the winter and engine blocks will crack as well as pipes in the walls. We had friends tell us that they miscalculated closing day one year when an early freeze set in and they returned to 22 burst pipes in the walls of their cottage including some behind the shower and kitchen cabinets.

You are right, catastrophic is too mild of a term to describe the mess.  Anyway, The real stress comes from the pumps and various tools I use to get the job done. I have become so concerned that one could fail hours before we are to leave (usually to catch a plane) that I have started getting backups, just in case. In any event, we did get off without incident and we are on the road, so we dodged that bullet again this year. The good news is that the two weeks per summer we do rent the island are booked a year ahead once again, so the next availability is the summer of 2016. Good on us!

Murphy visits

Murphy descended for an unwelcomed visit 3 times this past month. The first was when Janice was driving our car from the US side of the river over the bridge to the Canadian side where we dock our boat. She happened to be in the 'no-man's-land' 100 yard (meter) area between the US and Canadian customs stations. Being between the two booths, you can think of it as the area between Gaza and Israel, without the rocket launchers and tanks. 

Anyway, the car just died and she needed to be towed. She called me on the cell, so I walked from our dock where I was waiting for her, to the customs station to help. Once there, we were just 50 yards (meters) apart and could clearly see each other, customs officers would not allow me to approach her, as she had not been ' cleared'. It was like a scene of relatives waiving to each other through the North Korean DMZ. I was tempted to raise my hands and shout "don't shoot!" but I feared these folks wouldn't share my sense of humor. Come to think of it...few do.

It almost created an international incident as no official could decide if the tow truck from Canada could retrieve her car since she had not yet cleared customs in Canada or if a truck from the US would be permitted to do it. Finally cooler heads prevailed and the traffic snarl was undone.

Murphy's second visit occurred when we pulled our boat out for the season and had a little extra preventative maintenance done to it. Suddenly, a number of pending doom and gloom items were discovered and several thousand dollars worth of repairs were called for. That should help keep the marina mechanics employed through the winter.

Finally, feeling right at home with us, Murphy joined us for the start of our road trip. This is the first time we are driving back across the country in 10 years, to our home in California. This is partially because we want to return with a different vehicle to the island that we currently have in California, partially because we wanted to see 4 of the 5 kids and all our grand kids on this leg of the journey, and partially because I mentioned last month that we had commissioned some furniture to be built in New York that we wanted to take back with us.

So.  Besides looking like the "Grapes of Wrath" and Jed Clampet's trailer, 
what's wrong with this picture?

Several weeks ago, I bought a small trailer from a kit and a friend helped me assemble it. We then shrink wrapped the furniture, loaded it on the trailer and set off for California or bust! On our second day out, just outside of Chicago, the trailer lost a wheel -not a tire- the entire wheel on the freeway in a raging rainstorm. It took 2 1/2 hours to have us towed to some podunk town nearby where we spent the next 2 days as the breakdown occurred on a Saturday after noon and everything would be closed until Monday, of course.




Once back on the road, we drove to Nebraska where part of our family has a farm. I have been hankering to take the monster combine out for a spin and finally got my fill. While I did not get to actually drive the beast that is the size of a small house and costs more than one (fair enough, I wouldn't let them fly my plane either) I did get a first hand experience from the inside of the large cab.




This beast processes 12 rows of corn stock simultaneously, right down to stripping the kernels off the cob at a rate of about 35 pounds a second! Our visit was cut short due to time lost getting our trailer fixed. I must admit that as much fun as this farming gig was (and it was) the truth is that I discovered yet another occupation that I would not pursue. I guess I am just destined to be an unemployed slacker.

On the road again, we drove to Kalispell Montana to see Grandson Alex in his rehabilitation center, then on to Sandpoint Idaho to spend a few days with #1 son Wesley. Next was a drive over the Cascade mountains this morning to daughter Amy's place in the San Juan islands in Washington state to see the 5 grand kids there. At this writing, we are still 10 days and 1200 miles from home.
 

The view from the cockpit

Wellers Bay National Wildlife area, on Prince Edward Island

Well, this is it. You wont have to read any more blah-blah-blah about the plane for another 239 days, but who's counting? I managed to rack up 64 hours in the air all by my little own self this summer and I am getting really comfortable with it all. I am now traveling further than ever, with a prudent amount of confidence, landing at new airports all over the place. Just before I left, I decided to take my grandson Christopher on a virtual flight with me, since realistically he will never actually be able to join me. You can see our flight here.

 

Flying simply makes the sun shine brighter, the grass greener, the world a more peaceful place and beer taste better (after, not during). A flight a day keeps the doctor away and does not count towards the time we have on earth.

September, 2014

Janice returns home.

The girl is back and doing great. She is healing nicely and getting stronger by the day. We are now on countdown for our October 1 departure and road trip across America to get back home in California.

She was in the hospital for a week so I drove the 5 hours back and forth everyday to visit for 4 hours, while she slept 3 of them in La-La land all drugged up. [Note to kids: these were legally prescribed pain medications] It was a taste of dealing with Alzheimer as she barely remembered I was there the day before. It is great to have her back home. 

The girls are here 

 
Daughters Mandy and Kami arrived [from Germany and Louisiana respectively] for a scheduled visit this month. Mandy flew in to Montreal and Kami the next day to Syracuse NY. They had a great time together ripping up the river on the jet ski's and just getting a good dose of Islomania. 

Photo by Ian Coristine, 1000 Islands Photo Art

While here, we snorkeled to two of the local wrecks, The Pentland and the F.A Georger which were built in 1874. Known as the twisted sisters due to their lying with their wood frames intertwined side by side, the two 800 ton, 200 foot wrecks were scuttled by Capt. Hinkley in 1929. They lay in 2 to 20 feet of water so are easily explored. Their sinking caused a great local controversy due to their location.

By the way, I have shown you a few very cool videos of our neighborhood in the past  but this latest was shot by helicopter so its up there with the best.

Having Mandy here made Janice and I feel like kids with a mom at home. She cooked, cleaned, vacuumed, did the laundry and took care of us both from morning to night. I guess with Janice home from the hospital it was understandable. I just got the bonus.

15 minutes of fame

Andy Warhol was once quoted as saying that "In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes in their lifetime". If that is the case, our beloved Honey Bee has already far exceeded it's quota and just got more.

Last month we were contacted by the Cottage Life Television Network to include Honey Bee in a program called "My Retreat". This is a program about private islands and their stewards, that originated in Canada but this year has gone international and is now syndicated around the globe. They are in their second season and the Bee will be one of the islands featured in episode 24 which will air sometime in November.

The producer and cameraman preparing to interview Janice

For this particular program, they chose 4 island properties in the Thousand Islands and did a segment on each. Ironically, 2 of the 3 other property owners are close friends, so it was a real kick. The footage was shot here in a day, plus a helicopter fly by to get some areal scenes. The crew spent the day with us filming and interviewing Janice who was a real trooper, having been discharged from the hospital 48 hours earlier.

I have always found it curious how an island home is referred to in these parts. Some people call them "camps". I always though of a camp as a place to set up a tent. Others call them cottages. Fair enough, but I have seen multimillion dollar McMansions or bloody Taj Mahal's called "cottages". 

Some call them cabins and that would fit our log 'cabin'. Others call them lake house's meaning any house by the water, be it lake, pond or river. These guys called them "Retreats". I always though of a retreat as something you go to for the week end with your church. The terms are linguistic pretzels. Whatever, we just call the Bee our summer home.

Dancing with the angels

Oh, yea. I did a little of that too. With Janice's considerable cooperation, I managed to rack up 41 hours of flying in between all the above in the past 4 weeks since I got my license, by simply setting the alarm for O-dark-hundred and being out at the field by sun up at 6 AM. And here I thought the only people up at that hour were crooks and bad women. Not bad when you consider that the average private pilot manages to fly 35 hours a year!

Having covered 4,000 miles overall since first flight, I assume this puts the "Will this contraption Michael built really fly?" question to bed once and for all.  With 300 landings to date, I am convinced that I could not possibly have cholesterol blockage in my arteries as my heart rate rises from a normal 60 beats per minute to over 400 in the last 10 seconds as the rubber meets the runway. Talk about a rush!




Getting braver and a little bolder, I started spreading my wings a little (no pun intended) and flew a couple of cross country trips [no, not across THE country but just away from my home airport] 35 miles away. Having survived it just fine, I then flew a 111 mile cross country trip a few days later. The world is now my oyster.

To me, this flying thing is like a religious experience. From the moment I make that last radio call "Gananoque traffic" (the airport I fly out of) "Juliet Quebec Papa" ( my airplane's assigned call sign) "entering the active for takeoff on two four for local VFR" (runway I am taking off from and area I will be flying in), I apply full throttle and I am unable to count to 5 before I am airborne... dancing with the angels.

August 2014

Newsflash!

We here at the Epistle, pride ourselves on keeping you up to date on the goings on in our little lives. If you are reading this within hours of when I posted it, then you should know that at this very moment, Janice is in surgery at the Syracuse hospital.

She is undergoing elective reconstructive breast surgery (post cancer and mastectomy). Naturally, it was her decision and she will be in the hospital for almost a week, before returning to the island for a long recovery. A girl has to do what a girl has to do.

We flew the coop!

We were off island this past month for our yearly two weeks of rentals. We spent a week at a cottage within a stone's throw of the Bee so we are able to continue with most socializing as if nothing has changed. We then spent the second week on a home exchange at the home we were at last summer, just outside of Ottawa (Canada's capital).  

This is the 3,500 sf (350 sq M) home of the retired vice president of Scotia Bank (Think Bank of America for Canada) whose back yard is on the Ottawa River, practically across from the Parliament buildings. Very cool! They in turn, spent their exchange at our humble abode in California. 

The party girl

While there, my mother turned 90 so we drove to Toronto to celebrate the big event. Hard to believe that she is 40 years older than I. Or is my math off a tad? We also visited family at their cottage in Quebec (province of, not city of) While there, I joined my cousin's wife who was training for a triathlon for a 3/4 mile swim to a nearby island. Does that make me an Iron man?

No rest for the unemployed

I managed to make myself useful this past month by working on a number of low profile but rather important little projects around the island. Nothing to write home to mom about, but just stuff to make things easier, nicer or less work in the future. I sometimes wonder though, if I should cool it a bit when I realize that I am known by my first name in 3 different hardware stores in 3 countries on 2 continents.

New deck I built on the back of the island

Same location, different angle

Now that the critical projects for the summer are behind me, other than caring for my bride, flying is my number 1 priority for the rest of the summer. Come to think about it, it is number 2, 3 and 4 also. Attending all social events and other obligations are based on wind and rain. If the weather conditions are right, I fly. If not, then we can do anything else.

Charlie, India, Juliet, Quebec, Papa

(AKA C-IJQP)

Surprised that the first thing I wrote about was a project and not the plane? Me too! The fact is, I am at it gangbusters again, but doing my flying very early in the morning or in mid-evening. That's when the winds are lower, giving an inexperienced pilot a fighting chance, minimizing the risk of bending his airplane. Of course that leaves the better part of the day open for visiting, boating or projects.

 

 Janice running errands

I have given you a break for some time now, not blathering on and on about the plane this, the plane that, the plane, the plane, the plane. The break is over. I am so excited I feel like I am going to bust a gut. For one, I am finally on my own. I soloed last year but after such a long absence from flying I had to revisit things some, plus the fact that even when I left off I was totally unhappy with my landings. They are kind of important, especially if you want to go for another ride later.

Michael running errands.

To each his / her own

Anyway, I finally got it down after I did 29 landings on my first day out on my own. I am now working on my passenger carrying rating. When I have it, I can not only go up and kill myself, but I could take you up and get you killed too! Don’t laugh. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t know what you are thinking…

Anyway, the more seat time I get, the better I get at this. I am actually starting to have time to look out and enjoy the view as opposed to constantly having one eye on my airspeed, another on my altitude, another eye on airborne traffic (to avoid a mid-air) another eye on various instruments that record engine temps, an eye on fuel levels, if I am flying level, an eye on if I am climbing or descending, all while I am making radio calls. 

Since that is way more eyes than I was born with, I quickly became crossed eyed. Still, flying feels like the uneasy exhilaration which would be had from shampooing a lion, and it is way more fun than the kind of talk some people would pay a woman a $1.75 a minute for…

I had to put the fun on pause for  a few days when I was due for a 50 hour inspection. I took my first solo cross country trip of a mere 35 miles to an aircraft mechanic at a nearby airport, but in my world that is a big deal. A trip of 350 miles would simply be 10 similar steps. I was so excited I felt like I could pee my pants! 

When he found out I had built the plane, he refused to to work on it. He said if I built it, I should know how to maintain it and that he would teach me. I spent the next 7 hours torquing cylinder heads, calibrating carburetors and much more that would bore you to tears. I figure that just 10 more years of this and I could be an un-certified aircraft mechanic too!

One fun project was to finally put a little color on my plane. I had been looking for a design for ages, but found little to excite my imagination. Stripes of every kind and color bored me to tears, and really cool and exotic paint jobs could cost as much as the plane. I finally found and loved the “splashing in the water” look, suitable to and paying homage to the fact that the TIAF (Thousand Island Air Force) is heading for a permanent amphibious operation. That will occur just as soon as the pilot puts on his big boy drinking pants and learns to fly on floats... next summer.

Wayne helping ensure a precise layout

Of course applying such large graphics required a little help from a friend and, as usual, Wayne was “Johnny on the spot”. Wayne is one of those guys that helps everybody around him, usually knows anywhere from a bit to a lot more about the subject than you do, and you are rarely in a position to reciprocate the favor in kind. My buddy Carl in France is the same way. These are the guys that often allow me to make my hair brained schemes come to life or get me out of a fix I have put myself in.

Ta- Da!

That Day

Crap. Once again, it was upon me. Like a bad penny, shortly after Janice had hers, mine followed. I tried ignoring it, refused to participate but still, the day arrived. I wept and practiced exotic curse words absorbed by having spent decades in prison, to no avail. 

I wish I could say that age did not bother me, except of course when I detect those ever so subtle changes in the way members of the opposite sex look at me, which these days they invariably only reluctantly do because we happen to be unavoidably confined together in an elevator or a waiting room.

Friends and family call and write to wish you well, but it feels like they are celebrating the fact that you are a year closer to circling the drain. What's to celebrate? Meanwhile, my bucket list runeth over and there is still plenty of man juice in the tank.