Here’s the fish cleaning table I built Friday for the deck at camp. I worked all afternoon on it in the nude. It was a beautiful warm, sunny day and my clothes were all hanging on the deck rails drying out.
Friday morning I had taken a load of things for camp and, with help from my faithful companions Boomer and Rosie, got the boat all loaded up, tied to the dock and ready to go.
Then I drove to my office where I polished off a couple hours of work and then headed back home, eager to jump in the boat and dash to camp.
Only Boomer greeted me at the house. Highly unusual that Rosie wasn’t there, too, but after searching her regular spots and checking to see if she’d gotten locked in the basement I concluded that she must be visiting the neighbors, so Boomer and I walked down to the boat. I planned to pick up Rosie when I returned for Mary in the evening.
What a horror greeted me when I got to the boat. There was Rosie, tangled in ropes, floating face down in the lake. As I rushed over I heard some tiny whimpering and saw bubbles coming from the water where her face was. I plunged into water nearly chest deep, held her head up while I fished for my knife to cut the ropes. All the while Boomer was swimming around and around us, trying to help.
The story has a happy ending. Although she was pretty exhausted and sore – after two hours of struggling in the cold water (ice just went out a week ago) – Rosie perked up by the time we got to camp and spent the afternoon playing with rocks, while I built the little table as my clothes blew in the breeze and dried in the sun.
The second picture is our first walleye breakfast of the new season. Caught some nice walleyes off the dock and filleted them on my new fish cleaning table.
The weather this weekend has been gorgeous. I am tempted to jump in the lake fully clothed again so I have a good excuse to run around nekkid.

Remind me never to quit drinking again. I did enjoy a couple caesars (clear liquor doesn't count as drinking). Yesterday the first one tasted so good and went down so fast that on the way to fix another I warned myself to take it easy and not drink so fast. As luck would have it when i got to the counter to mix the second one I realized the vodka was still in the cupboard, so I had been drinking pure clamato juice and tabasco, with three jumbo blue cheese stuffed olives.
Later in the day a friend called to say he was coming out for a visit. When he asked if he could bring anything I jumped at the chance to ask for a bottle of wine. Met him at the dock and he handed me a bag of milk. "I know you've quit drinking, so brought you milk, instead of wine."
He didn't fool me for long, though. I can recognize a bottle of wine stuffed inside a bag.
We did a fair bit of clearing around the cabin yesterday and enjoyed a nice fire in the evening. Smoke was still rising from the ashes this morning as we watched out the window while polishing off steak, eggs, hash browns and apple pie for breakfast.

Temperatures are cool, but I got all my planting done at camp yesterday - tomatoes, peppers, zucchini and flowers - before the rain started. The slow drizzle that continued for hours was perfect for the plants. Fog billowed up in the dusk last evening and gave us a pretty cool heaven-like vista from the deck. Very nice start to the new season at camp.

Well, I guess this isn't the weekend to quit drinking. My plan was to leave my whiskey behind when we go to camp today, but look what the wind has done to the ice! It has blown over to our side of the lake and has us boxed in, so after a couple hours of watching the pattern and hoofing down the shoreline to see what's around the corner, I have decided to partake of a wee shot of scotch - to make the wait seem shorter, you understand. I'm thinking of waiting until 6 o'clock (a couple hours from now) to see whether a channel opens up for us or whether I'll have to create one.
I'm pretty sure the scotch will help me plan the route and dull the sound of crunching ice, and I can quit drinking next weekend.

I think I have officially crossed the line into the knucklehead world.
I'm not saying that a deaf friend I ran into at the bank this morning has anything to do with it - but he did hug me and slap me multiple times on the back, then multiple times on my chest as we shared a friendly, heartfelt greeting. Unknown to him, I wear my hearing aid control dangling from a necklace and each of his hugs and slaps sent the volume and intensity of the probes through my ears into my brain reaching for the sky.
When I got home a bit later, around noon, I came inside and have been involved here without going back out.
Mary came in from work at 6 p.m. and asked, "Why is your truck running?"
Duh!
Guess I parked in my driveway spot and forgot to turn it off when I got out. It was a cold day, so the heater running full blast for about six hours made the ignition key almost too hot to handle.
In preparation for involuntary placement in "a home" I am going to go drink a nice glass of warm milk and crawl into bed, where I plan to read, secretly, under the covers, with a flashlight.
la, la, la, la, la....
G'night.

A couple weeks ago I was lamenting to the friend who taught last year's carving course, at which I developed some enthusiasm, that I often wished I could do some carving while visiting somewhere without having to plan ahead and carry along my bag of knives, chisels, and various other items.
"Well," he smiled, "Lee Valley may have just what you need..."
So, have a look at this baby. Now I can visit friends on a Sunday afternoon, break a branch off a tree in their yard, and sit on their couch carving a little spoon in the living room as we talk.
Pretty much like those who take a ball of yarn and a couple needles to knit a sweater as they visit friends, I'm thinking.