Saturday always feels like a Saturday at the cottage. It doesn’t matter that we aren’t following a schedule it still feels like a Saturday. It is time for a few chores and mostly time for recreation. It is also a busy time on the lake. There are more boats and jet skis zipping on the lake, more water skiers, and more noise. You run into more people on the lane, up for the weekend arriving Friday night and leaving, or planning to, on Sunday afternoon.
I was up Saturday morning before any one and busy with writing yesterday’s post. I had a couple of errands to run: pictures at Walgreen’s and the dump. The kids had gone running, or rather on Saturday morning, mountain biking on the trails. Beth had a meeting of the lake property owners and Ivy stayed home, sleeping.
When I got home, I took advantage of a bit of quiet time and shade on the deck and read a chapter of Catching Fire. The title is symbolic of how I’m drawn into the book. It is the second book in the series and I am having a hard time putting it down. I did show a bit of self-control and put it down and got to work pulling weeds and grass growing in the wrong places. I had been weeding Friday evening along the driveway when two girls, sisters, walked by the cottage on the dirt lane. They stopped to talk and it went something like this:
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Weeding.” I replied.
“You have a pretty yard.” She said.
“Thank you.” I said. “It’s not mine; it is my wife’s family’s. They planted it I just pull the weeds and help keep it pretty. Thank you.” I finish.
I continued to weed and she watched and said as walked away, “Bye, see you.” Or something like that and she was gone and I was still weeding. As I weeded Saturday afternoon, I continued to think about that exchange, how I had included it in my letter to grandma and grandpa. I included it to let them know not to worry about the cottage that we were caring for it just as they do and it would be here for them when they came up next and for our kids. This is a special place and I know grandpa worries about it and the maintenance. We aren’t here year round, though weeds know no holiday, nor do other things that maintaining a home entail. There is always a list, something to do, fix, or clean.
But, I just can’t shake reading. While I was weeding, the mailman stopped at our mailbox to drop a letter, a postcard or something. I could hear it as I weeded and I suppressed the urge to find out what was there and who sent it. Finally, I reached a stopping point, walked over to the mailbox, looked inside, and found a letter from Julie; her letter had arrived, three days from Mississippi, it was here. I stopped, opened it, and Ivy came over to see what was happening, sit with me and I read it to her sitting in the shade. Ivy just listened as I read. I made a note to add a response to my letter-writing list and finished weeding. I was almost done for the day when Beth, William, and Olivia came home and I stopped for the day.
It was time for lunch and the afternoon. William and Beth worked on their plan for the coming week – day camp at a scout camp about thirty minutes away, Olivia was with her friends, and I lay down on the couch, reading. I was having a hard time putting my current read down. Catching Fire had literally caught fire for me and I fallen asleep reading it, Friday night; I was sucked in. William and Beth took off to visit the camp and investigate the possibility and, once more, Ivy and I were left to our own devices. Olivia was invited with her friends to go out on the lake and jump off and swim and I followed in Ely boat to film.
I filmed a few clips of the kids jumping and enjoying the lake. They tried without success to get me wet with their jack-knives, cannon balls, and other jumps. I felt a couple of splashes, but that was it. I puttered home and parked the boat and was back to reading. I sat on the deck and Ivy curled up in the shade beside me. I couldn’t stop and read for almost an hour. By that time the shade was reaching the corner of the yard and it was a great time to get up, stretch, and move to the shade and take Ivy with me. It is a great place to read, I could feel the grass on my toes, could hear the waves lap against the rocks, and feel the breeze off the lake. It is a perfect place to lose myself in reading. Ivy lay down beneath my chair and occasionally lifted her head to look out for ducks or some other intruder. I looked around and saw my neighbor joining me reading away the afternoon. She was reading on a tablet or an iPad, I am not sure which, but she was lost in her book, like me. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a solitary afternoon.
Eventually, Beth and the kids came home. By that time, the lake had calmed and it was perfect for skiing and maybe an evening lake cruise and we rigged the pontoon for skiing. William had been on the lake with his lake friends wakeboarding, but skiing is more challenging with both legs to control and his first attempt ended after only a few seconds as he tried to hot dog it. It took a few more attempts at getting up before he was up for a longer ride. Beth drove and I filmed and shot pictures. He rode for several minutes before peeling off and letting go. We finished the night with a cruise and an amazing sunset.
We docked the boat and I went inside, to read, of course. I was asleep when the kids came in and up Sunday morning reading when they woke. I didn’t read much after they woke Sunday, spending time with helping William with his bike, getting ready for day camp, and watching the women’s soccer match. I fell asleep on the couch reading and woke Monday to pick up where I left. It is getting to the good part in the book and I will probably finish it today and be on the search for the third book, Mockingjay. Having a third book gives me a hint at how my book will finish, but I will read on. Who knows if my prediction will be right, or not: Making the Days Count, one page, one chapter, on book at a time. Have you ever been reading a book that had a difficult time putting down, what was it, and when did you read it?