My Email to Dan on a rainy Friday morning

Hi Honey, I am back home. Dismal walk to the train. Grab a kleenex for this very sad tale.

It was pouring buckets of rain, and the wind was blowing. I was crossing Addison at the light at whatever side street that is (Byron?). As usual, I pressed the button and waited for the walk signal. There was a car waiting to turn left and head east on Addison, and I could tell that he was in a hurry because he was sticking way out. I got the walk sign and started to cross, and he came out like he wanted to go first, but I can be stubborn so I kept walking. He kept coming fast, and missed me by about 2 inches. He came behind me, I'm surprised that he didn't get the back of my shoe with his rear tires, he came that close. He actually swerved to come closer to me to scare me, and he did scare me. Scared the ___ out of me. There was a van stopped there at the light heading west, and I could see the driver shake his head like he couldn't believe what he saw. I was so upset that I started crying (big baby). I swear, things like this make me lose faith in the whole human race.

I kept walking (tearfully) down Addison, and I was getting absolutely soaked because the wind was blowing the rain right at me. You are so lucky you had your rain pants and poncho on for your walk, my legs and feet were as wet as if I had been wading in a river up to my thighs. I turned on Kilbourn, and I knew that I didn't want to sit on the train all soaked (and weepy), and then face that 20-minute walk to the office on the other end. So I turned around and came back home, thoroughly wetting the back of me in the process.

I thought I would change clothes, grab the car and drive to the station and catch the next train, but I just could not stand the thought of going back out there into a world where very mean people try to run very nice people down, just so they can go first, or just for the fun of it. Plus, I have a headache, which I think is sinus related because I am all stuffed up. So I called in.

And that's my sad story.

A Camping We Will Go

Dan and I enjoyed a short camping trip to Ergang Lake, our woodsy oasis near Whitehall, Michigan. A good time was had. The weather was mild, but it did get a little chilly overnight in the tent. I don't like a sleeping bag, I don't like to be "enclosed", I like to have at least one foot sticking out. When we went to bed, I started out with the bag mostly unzipped, but at around 2 a.m. I woke up freezing. A quick zip of the bag and I was toasty.

Dan and I squeezed a lot of camping fun into our short day and a half trip. We did a bit of fishing, a bit of biking, a bit of campfire burning, a bit of Smore making (my favorite!). We took some walks and relaxed in lawn chairs with campstove coffee. Because we live and work in Chicago, the peace and quiet of the woods soothes our souls like nothing else can.

We were all by ourselves on this trip, and even though I have been camping in these private woods for 30 years now, I still get creeped out at night. I can't forget that 20 or so years ago we had a few bits of trouble with drunk locals, who liked to amuse themselves by riding through our campsites in the middle of the night on their motorcycles and in their pick-up trucks, terrorizing us city folk. They never did anything to us, they just drove through. But I remember being so afraid of them! Fast forward to 2009, and as I lay in my tent in the middle of the dark woods, I remind myself that these drunk locals are now in their 50's, and are probably home snoozing on their sofas, bathed in the light of the t.v. The new generation of drunk locals is hanging out in the local bar, drinking cosmos and appletinis and texting their buddies. No interest in a terrorizing jaunt through the chilly woods!

My friends and I have owned this little bit of paradise since 1984. It's just woods and a small lake, very primitive and private. No running water, no bathrooms, no problem. I love it, it's one of my favorite places on Earth. Only a handful of the 25 owners camp there at all these days. Dan and I usually go camping there once a year, at the beginning of fall. Maybe next year I'll be brave and camp in the middle of summer, and be happy while the deer flies circle my head. I used to be so carefree about swimming through the weeds to get out to the middle of the lake -- now the thought of it freaks me out. When did I get so old and timid?

I used to camp with my Norwegian Elkhound, her name was Lucy. She was the best dog I've ever had, beautiful and smart as a whip. Her mouth was shaped so that she always looked like she was smiling when she was panting. Lucy loved the freedom of Ergang Lake, and would often disappear for hours, sometimes overnight. The first time she stayed away overnight I cried in my tent until morning. I thought I had lost her forever. But she came back -- draped in deer shit and looking very, very proud of herself. This is my favorite memory of camping with Lucy -- I walked into the woods to relieve myself. Lucy, followed me, as she always did. I squatted to pee, and Lucy squatted a few feet away from me. I looked over at her, and she was smiling at me. She was probably thinking "Here we are, my human and me, peeing in the woods together!"
Here is a shot of Dan, standing on the beach fishing with crickets and grasshoppers that he caught himself. We don't need to buy no stinkin' bait!


What a gorgeous bluegill -- call the taxidermist!

Our little Kia Sportage looks right at home in the woods.


Ah. Crunchy campstove coffee. One of life's little pleasures!



It was a great trip, although too short. See you next year, Ergang Lake!