A quiet existance

There is something to be said for sitting out on a picnic table, a cup of coffee by my side while I write this blog. 

King has a fire going and is sitting next to it with his latest batch of scratch-off lottery tickets in his hands.  It is his daily ritual – start a fire, walk the dog, work his scratch-off tickets. Even on the warmest of days he stokes the fire in the fire pit first thing in the morning. No one knows why. He likes the crossword puzzles lottery tickets and usually wins enough to turn around and buy more.  He sits by the fire, a quarter in his hand and takes his time scratching the little boxes. When it gets too warm to sit in the sun/by the fire he moves to the shade of our canopy. By mid-morning will venture into town to drive past the lighthouse and trade in tickets for new ones. (Wearing masks, of course).

Kal Haven Outpost (where we are staying for the summer) is a new campground. The young owners opened it in 2016. They work hard to keep the place clean and nice. While the RV campsites offer no shade, there are young trees planted at each site. Primitive sites are set in the woods. King and I do a lot of boondocking (primitive camping) in the winter months but since we are stationary for the summer, having amenities is nice. The owners are planning on adding sewer hookups to each site either this year or next and are hoping it might draw more seasonal campers. It’s a hefty financial undertaking for them and I would imagine this season is rather a-typical and probably just a little scary. I think by next month there will be three or four of use using the campground as a seasonal camp.

This morning the campground is a beehive of activity.  Children are racing around on scooters or bikes and people are walking their dogs. King and I keep to ourselves. We are that old, grumpy-looking couple people tend to avoid. King has years of practice at looking grumpy. As an assistant principal he dealt with school discipline. Remember when our mothers told us that if we continued to frown our faces were going to freeze that way? Our mothers were right. King has a perpetual stern look about him. Our children and I are the only ones who don’t take him seriously.

Earlier today a crop duster circled over the campground several times. We assume he is dusting the blueberry fields on the next road over, but since he dips below the tree line it’s difficult to pinpoint his exact location. To the east of us is the Gingerman Raceway. I can hear the racers as they make their way around the track. I never got into the sport, but I did, on occasion double-date with high school friends and sweethearts and go to the drag races in Martin. In my mind I can still here the radio ads for it on WLS radio out of Chicago.

The campground is not full, although the cabins in the back have been rented for the weekend. I think there are nine RVs and trailers here and quite a few tents, although it’s difficult to tell the number of tents because they are set back in the woods. The place was packed for Memorial Weekend, so I’ll be interested to see how full it gets for the Fourth. I’m guessing now that state parks are open it might not be quite so busy.  King and I drove through the Van Buren State Park this week. It is packed. Uncomfortably so. I understand the draw – Lake Michigan is just over the dune but with 10 to 15 feet of beach (and in some places even less) available I’d just as soon not venture out amongst people. I’ve always preferred to stay away from crowds, but it seems now it’s rather prudent to do so. Rather nice. I can be anti-social with an excuse.

It’s a quite existence. Last week our big excitement was the wind taking down our canopy.  We didn’t see rain in the forecast (and we didn’t get any), but the winds tend to whip through here like the prairies in Kansas.

King had played 27 holes of golf during the day and crashed early. I fell asleep reading a teen paranormal romance (I’m addicted) only to be awakened by the sound of the canopy assailing the side of the trailer. King was out. I woke him up and his response was, “We’ll take care of it in the morning.” Not acceptable. I went out into the wind and got the cover taken down (at least now there was no longer a sail attached to the flimsy metal structure). A group of 20-something young men stood in the doorway of the bathhouse watching me struggle but didn’t offer to help. I think they were afraid of me to be honest. I was pretty perturbed with King.  I gave up trying to fold-up the frame and lashed it to the picnic table for the night. We were able to salvage it and have it set up again, this time we watch the weather and take it down if storms are predicted.

That’s our lives in a nutshell. Pretty tame by most standards. Pretty comfortable for us.

We made it to June

We made it to June.

The state is supposedly still on shutdown, although I don’t see much difference other than signs reminding us to remain six feet apart and stores requesting patrons wear masks. I won’t weigh in on that debate. Suffice it to say King and I wear masks. What others do is up to them.  

We are waiting to see what happens. I know there are many who are desperately waiting to go back to work. Today we were reminded that there ARE those who are suffering during the shutdown as the line of cars at the Presbyterian Church food bank was almost out to the street.  Between the lockdown, protests, voting by mail debate and the upcoming election, it is going to be an interesting summer.

Life, however, has remained pretty much the same for the King and I.  He hates dining out, going out for coffee or congregating with people. He likes golf.  We work within those parameters. 

Every morning King gets up and starts a fire in the fire ring outside. One month in to our new domicile and we are on our second cord of wood.  Even on the days when it reached 90 degrees, King had a fire going. I quit wondering about his penchant for bon fires and campfires about 30 years ago. It’s just the way he is. Once the fire is going he grabs a leash and takes Cindy for a walk. She waits patiently next to me in bed until she hears the door open and then jumps up and is ready to go. That gives me time to make the bed and start breakfast. I’m an oatmeal type of girl. King likes eggs and toast. We sit by the fire in companionable silence until I get bored and start a project … sewing seat cushions, writing a column, painting rocks… and within five minutes he is ready to go to the store. He thinks it annoys me.  Truthfully I start working so he will decide it’s time to go. (And in 44 years of marriage he has never once read anything I’ve written so I can pretty much say whatever I want without fear of him learning my little secrets). 

Our daily trips entail a drive through the South Beach in South Haven, a stop at a convenience store to buy his Mountain Dew (I think he is the only 65-year-old on the planet who drinks Mountain Dew), and an occasional trip to the lumber yard. He is building a portable privacy fence around our propane tanks on the front of the trailer.

We find little things to keep us busy.

The other day we drove to Allegan County West Side Park to pick up rocks. I like large smooth flat rocks I can paint. While we are traveling out west I leave painted rocks at various locations and refer those who find them to post photos on “Paw Paw Rocks” Facebook page. The front of the rock is painted with a design, the back has the information for the Facebook page.  Three of our grandchildren live in Paw Paw and like to see where the rocks end up.  While at the beach I also collected lightening stones (stone septarian) that can be found along the shores of Lake Michigan in Allegan County. With the high water this year more rocks are tossed up onto what is left of the beach.  In the past I have made necklaces with the stones, but mostly I just keep them in jars around the trailer and cushion them in bedding whenever we move to a new location.

A few weeks ago there were turkeys visiting the campground -- three big toms and a flock of hens. I’m not up on turkey habits but we watched them strut around for quite some time conversing with one another. Then the fan tails came down and the hens came out of the woods. Either the boys were checking things out and telling the girls it was safe to come out or the girls decided the boys were no longer interested and decided it was safe to venture out.  We raised turkeys one summer.  The wild turkeys seem rather smart. Domestic turkeys have got to be the dumbest creatures anywhere.  I really hated those birds. But I cried like a baby when we had to catch them and take them to be processed. I’ll have to agree with King, I am a walking oxymoron.

Most of the time King and I are here in the campground alone. Memorial weekend it was busy. People pretty much kept to themselves, which is fine with us. This past weekend there were probably five or six sites with campers.  I prefer it empty, but I’m guessing the young couple who own the place (now in its fourth year) would be a little more comfortable with a few more people.

Our days are filled. Not with a lot, but enough to keep us married.

A lightning or septarian stone.

King finished the fence this morning. The statues are from his mother's garden in Plymouth, Mich.

My Dad gave Mom this sundial for their 
50th wedding anniversary. The dial broke
off years ago. 

Campground visitors in early May.