Pulling the start cord on the lawnmower of life

Adam, Jennie, and Lily came for a visit, dinner, and sauna at the camp on Saturday. I cooked some steaks on the outside grill and they came out well. Adam's helping us with the installation of the new gas cooktop. I got tired just thinking about his day on Saturday. He worked the overnight shift, ran 15 miles after work, slept for a few hours, and drove to see us. We made sure that he had an extra cup of coffee for the ride home.

In two weeks, they will have completed their fund-raising race. Adam's slated to run a marathon, Jennie a half-marathon, as a fund-raiser for stroke research.

My father and his friends built a massive stone fireplace at the camp. The mortar was mixed by a long-time friend, a fellow who still visits my father for sauna every few weeks. (The friend is up in Hudson's Bay this week, visiting with the Cree Indians.) Anyway, this friend was new to mixing mortar. As a result, little white flakes and chunks have been falling off the fireplace for 60 years. My father grumbles about it, good-naturedly, mostly. When we are cleaning up, we mutter this guy's name. We're passing the info along to Mike and Adam, so the next generations can continue the grumbling.

The hydrangea that Sandra planted by the boathouse is coming back. The small hemlocks along the paths have fresh green tips of new growth. Sandra found another trillium in the woods. She reports that the ground is very wet, even a couple of hundred feet from the water's edge.

We met with the contractor about putting a road from our parking area to the back of the camp. He gave us can of orange spray paint which we used to mark the trees that we wanted cut down. It'll be both exhilarating and saddening to have the trees come down, opening us to much more sunlight. We didn't keep count, but it may be three or four dozen trees that are slated to come down. They're tall trees in many cases, near power lines or the camp. It's work that's best donw by professionals.

Saturday was calm. (Or, as they say in PEI, "Cam, dear.") We had a canoe ride, gliding smoothly through the pollen that coat the water in the cove. There were several boats on the lake, including Elden and my father. The sun was strong and warm.

Screwdrivers have legs and bad homing instincts. Afer the the lawn mover would start, I wanted to remove the air filter and open up the butterfly valve a bit. No flathead screwdriver. Fortunately I had my Swiss army knife. Even more fortunately, my father showed up so I didn't have time to do the mowing. Next week, for sure.

So, my father, who reminds us that when he was a kid, commercial radio didn't exist, is thinking of giving up his landline phone for a cell phone. We have a few more details to resolve, including the setup of his voice mail. It could be a very good idea, saving him $20-$30 per month. Or, it could be something else.

After all that tumult of the weekend, it's easy to forget that it's time to go back to work. I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon. I'm ready, as are those around me who've been patient andkind Knowing what's not working doesn't automatically translate into knowing what does.