Foggy Morning on the Lake

I awoke about 6:15, came downstairs, put on the coffee, heated my milk, before sitting down to absolute darkness with a beginning blue of fog, as light made clear it was foggy. As it lightened, I began to make out the outline of the dock, but little else out towards the lake, though the trees and Leonard's dock pieces are clear, thus one can see perhaps 50 feet ahead, much to foggy to kayak. It was also 36 degrees when I woke, so there may or may not have been a frost. Sundial of the Seasons spoke about the old fashioned idea of bundling, where farmers would build a wall of sticks and leaves around their homes to keep out the draft, a first form of insulation. I could probably do the same thing with bales of hay, or more modern, a wall of plastic, held up by stakes. This morning I go off for physical therapy on my knee, at 9:00, and I think it will be my last time as the knee is getting better, and the help there is negligible.

For the most part, we led a lazy day; Evie did her usual things in the kitchen, organizing but neither of us felt that energetic, so we took advantage of the beautiful, cool day and read on the dock for an hour or so, serenaded, unfortunately by the pneumatic roofer hammer at Joe's and Dan's infernal leaf blower. We swear he is posssessed. About 4:00, the wind calmed down, and we went kayaking on a glassy lake, over to Long Point, along to Warner Bay and back, a great way to end the afternoon. We went over the Fred and Judy Gregory's for a cocktail; he made me a perfect manhattan, two ounzes of BV, a ounce of Bianco vermouth, a bit of bitters, a splash of water, and a slice of lemon...quite nice. We met the Mc Kibbens, Jack and Roberta, who ironically have a house in Euclid, as well as Chautauqua Shores. The second marriage for both, Jack is in his 80's, as he roomed with Bob Matthias, the decathalon champ, at Kiski Prep in 1948 and Roberta graduated from Willoughby North in 1960. Both have somewhat serious illnesses, unfortunately, so all was no happy. She particularly, is very talkative, perhaps because of her meds. He less forth coming but amusing. He and Fred play lots of golf, and she is a great fan of Judy's art. As we left, Judy gave us some Swedish Ivy, a plant that blooms year round, just place it in water. We ate at Bellino's in the Hotel in Mayville, empty as usual except for us. Fred had heard the owner had lost a million the past year, every believable. We did not feel left out but the Mc Kibbens did most of the talking. Fred and Judy leave for Davidson on Sunday, which is too bad as we will not see them again till Spring when Judy has a show and lecture at SUNY Fredonia, in the Rockfeller Art Center. We got home around 10:00 and I quickly got back into Super Bad True Love Story.