Mist Rising Along Long Point

6:20

6:30

Both Evie and I are up at 6:15, a brilliant, blinding sunrise for a few minutes before the clouds shroud  the light  No boats, only a few kayaks, paddle through the mist rising from the lake, a first for quite awhile, as the temperature has dropped this morning to 60º, a fleece like morning on the porch.

Sand Castle at Sports Men Club at Wells Bay

Yesterday was Day 2 in food prep for the kids arrival on Friday.  We did, however, get a great kayak ride in early morning, out to Tom's Point, with the music from Praise on the Lake, a morning religious service at the Italian Fisherman, occasionally wafting our way over the water.  Only a couple of ski boats were up early with us, so it was a lonely paddle along the shoreline, as neighbors were starting to wake up, gather on their porches for coffee.

When we got back, Evie began her cooking, putting a brisket in the oven for a few hours. Then, she made up hankie pankies, froze them, ready for easy appetizers.  She also put together the lasagna sauce,  for two lasagna, and made up some herb butter, for our corn.  Late afternoon, she went shopping at Wegman's, her last I hope for awhile, as my checking account is in danger of bankruptcy.  When she got home, I helped bring in the groceries, a couple of the bags so heavy I could hardly carry them, making me wonder how Evie put them in the car.  By the way, she already has a pork shoulder in the oven this morning, for making pulled pork barbecue.  What a woman!

While Evie shopped, I watched Phil Mickleson win the British Open, with an amazing last six holes, four for birdies, to win.  It's interesting that his early round was hardly covered because he was not one of the leaders until maybe the 13th hole, when he suddenly was in second place.  They continue to follow Tiger, hoping he may get his game back together.

Before our dinner,  I sliced the brisket, Evie put gravy over it, and she froze it.  It looked too good to freeze though I will have to content myself with a few bits of meat while carving.  We had spaghetti, left over and frozen from last week, with eggplant, mushrooms, and meatballs.  I made too many noodles as usual, so it was more noodles than sauce.  When will I ever learn that less noodles always is better.  The flip side, I now have a couple of easy lunches, the leftover spaghetti.  By the way, when I was growing up, we always called it spaghetti; somewhere along the way it became pasta and  I wonder why?  Is there a difference between spaghetti and pasta or are they the same thing?

Kayaking as the Fog Rises

We watched a couple of more episodes of The Newsroom and I still am not taken with it, especially the silly coincidences, the romantic relationships, the glances and looks, the corniness of it all.  I am surprised that Aaron Sorkin has written it and cannot see its smaltz.  I am ready to jettison it and look for something else to watch.