Choosing a favorite

From the cabin in rural Kentucky...

I have never been good at choosing favorites.  

My youngest child always said  that his favorite subject was “lunch.”  That same child, long grown, sometimes announces himself with “Hi Mom, it’s your favorite son.”  Favorites are of course a no-no of parenting, as if it would be possible to choose anyway.

On my fourth day of complete relaxation, as I enjoyed a third cup of coffee on the screened porch of our cabin on the lake in Kentucky, I pondered the question of favorites.  “Is morning or evening my favorite time at the lake,” I thought.  It occurred to me that it was a luxury to have the opportunity to have nothing better to do than ponder the best times of day.  Here's why it is impossible to choose:

MORNING FAVORITES

• Dew falls from the trees, making tinkling sounds on the tin roof long before daylight.

• Day birds wake up and begin their socializing.  Most prominent are crows, swallows and bluebirds.

• The mist hesitates on the lake until the sun rises high enough – after 9:00 – to begin to burn it off.

• The lake is still and clear as glass, stirring only after a breeze announces itself with the rustling of leaves.

• Water birds sometimes visit – most mornings it was a great blue heron who did not like being disturbed by woman and dog; two mornings I heard the descent of a dozen Canada Geese who nearly disappeared in the mist over the lake (they also disliked the dog).

• Turtles climb their logs, clumsily scuttling back into the water, easily startled by the noise of gravel under feet and paws.
• Fish break the surface of the water near the shore, occasionally jumping and causing a big splash.

• The sun spotlights the wildflowers and even the weeds.

• Dragon flies take off for their reconnaissance along the shore, stopping for food and continuing their erratic flight patterns, returning frequently to inspect.

• Box turtles begin forraging; one rehydrating in a rain puddle in the gravel road.
• Insects hum and horseflies begin to bite the dog, whose responding gyrations cause him to look like a pool of melted milk chocolate.

• A hawk begins his quest for breakfast in the back meadow where bunnies and squirrels are plentiful.

• Toadstools look enchanting in the early glow.

• Dudley takes his first of many swims of the day, then rolls in the wet grass.

EVENING FAVORITES

• Fog begins to descend on the lake as the sun falls behind the hills.
• Bats come from their hiding places (a few are in the eves of our roof) and begin swooping after the insects. 
• The temperature drops considerably.

• The sky turns pink in the direction of the lowering ball of heat.
• The last rays of sun glint and sparkle through the trees.

• Sunlight dances on the ripples of the lake, like wayward Tinkerbells beaconing to those ashore.
• The moon, nearly full this week, rises above the hills behind the cabin.
• Coyotes yowl in the hills beyond.
• Daytime birds shout their good-nights (the crows rudely use their loudest voices).
• Night birds make shrill calls in the woods behind the sulphur spring, one with a voice like a child who often gets what he wants.  The whip-poor-will repeats his calls over and over and over.
• A hound wails, its barking rising and falling as it runs up and down the hills beyond.

• With the nearly full moon behind us, a comical elongated shadow of woman and dog walks ahead of us.

• No human noises are audible.  Frogs converse, insects chirp, hum and cackle. 
• A light breeze makes the trees quiver and the leaves make a sound like the lapping of a gentle tide at shore.
• The dog plunges in the water in the stream, anxious for one last swim and relief from the horseflies that have yet to bed down. 

With so much, how could you choose a favorite?

B-Words

Preparing for a family jaunt to our cabin in the Kentucky hills last summer, I asked my eldest to give me his grocery wish list.  He named food items that violate the rules of the Mayo Clinic Diet book that I am currently reading and every version of the food pyramid that has ever been written:

• Beer
• Brownies
• Bacon
• Bread
• Bourbon
• Burgers
• Beef
• BLT's

"They all start with a "B", he said.  " Come to think of it, most things that start with a "B" are good,"  he added.  He continued his list of favorite b-words, "beach, breakfast,  boy, bicycle, boobs..."  I changed the direction of the conversation after the final installation, which is not a subject a Mother wants to discuss with her adult son.


So we talked about how the things he named were distinctly male on the goodness quotient.  If I were asked what I wanted food-wise for the lake trip I would have said:

• Red wine (old vine zinfandel)
• Spinach
• Turkey
• Light cheese
• Chicken
• Broccoli (a B-word he did not name)

Sure, a few of his b-words are ones I like, too, but my list is more eclectic and heart-healthy.  While I would partake in some of the enjoyment of his b-foods, they would not be things I would generally tempt myself with at the lake.  For me, the trip was really one big B-word, bonding, but more specifically about G-words including only a few food items:

• Grainy bread
• Green leafy vegetables
• Goat Cheese
• Generosity
• Getaway
• God
• Grits
• Generations
• Genealogy (we spent time researching some of the WWII letters of Dad's and other family history)
• Good food

When you are in your 20's, vacation seems more about sensual pleasures like food, for example; with age, you move down the alphabet to the deeper pleasures of creating lasting Memories and stealing Time away to Observe life Simply and Study Nature.


The result was a great weekend and fun for us both.  He got his B-words and I my bonding, family, nature and peaceful time.  Maybe this year he will ask for C-words.  I can only just imagine what those might be.


I am skipping to the J-words this year.  The first of those, having nothing to do with vacation, is JOB!  I just hope it isn't June before I realize it!!  But I will Jump for Joy when it happens.  And I might go for a Jog.  But the food choices will be limited.

Back to Nature: The End of Summer in Rural Kentucky

I have just returned from five glorious peaceful days at our lake cottage in Kentucky that has no reliable cell phone service, no television, and no radio reception. The most complicated electronic gadget is the coffee maker. Osmosis from the outside world rarely improves the natural experience.

When I was growing up, we retreated from the hot Florida summers to this rural place with no running water where we carried buckets from the spring behind the house to boil for dish washing. We bathed in the lake and brought drinking water from my Grandmother’s house. Now we have running water and no longer need the old privy out back.

Miles from a town or a store or a road wider than two narrow lanes, the place is much as it was then; the rustic decay of the cottage adds to its charm.

Tucked between hills, with the rising sun beyond the hills behind, the cottage stays darkened until late in the morning. The sun moves across the lake all day, setting directly across in the evening, casting beautiful light across the waters that looks like Tinkerbell hosting a dance party and can be viewed from our front porch.

As the sun sinks in the evenings, the mist curls over the lake and the bats come alive from their roosts, making the approaching darkness a little bit eerie before it finally gets nearly black. When there is a full moon, it rises behind the cottage, casing shadows across the lake and lighting the way for a last walk around its perimeter while the bats fly and the night noises begin.

Our favorite lake meal continues to be a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich (BLT) and we savor the wonderful tomatoes from the local farms. Their sweetness, combined with the salty, crisp bacon, a dash of pepper, a small amount of mayonnaise, and ice cold crunchy lettuce between two slices of toasted wheat bread is the most delightfully delicious combination. I indulged twice this year.

HIGHLIGHTS:

• Sitting on the screened porch in old rockers with split oak seats listening to owls on opposite sides of the lake having conversation and playing ventriloquist games with their prey.
• Laughing at the crazy whippoorwill making its frenetic calls again and again, interrupting concentration on a good book and causing us to stop and listen, smiling at his OCD behavior.
• Hearing woodpeckers in the hollows of the massive old trees, their hammering echoing across the lake at all hours.
• Watching tiny hummingbirds buzz and fight with one another at the feeders erected by our neighbors who are there often enough to keep them filled.
• Walking down to our dock, hot coffee cup in hand, seeing a small turtle scuttle off the ladder step, just above the water, his drying time interrupted.
• Scanning the lake to see an occasional fish jump and dozens of large and small turtle heads pop up, round bodies flattened out behind them as they navigate their way to a good place to crawl out and catch the sun.
• Startling a great blue heron during his morning feasting near the shore and feeling the gust from his loud flapping wings as he departed for the other end of the lake, away from the only human danger he was aware of.
• While out in the canoe, dog asleep in its bottom, watching a double-crested cormorant, with crooked beak, his long pipe-like neck steady and strangely still before diving below the surface to search for food and protection from intruders. When he realized we were too close for comfort, he spread his wings and with great much fluttering and splashing, he ended our hide and seek game.
• Observing thousands of nickel-sized freshwater jellyfish, found in lakes with good water quality and plenty of zooplankton, free-fall happily in the cool currents, tiny tendrils pumping. They have a ghost-like appearance, gelatinous filling outlined in white with a white X in the middle of the circle akin to a three-dimensional single jack with silky white beards waving from the circular outlines.
• Reluctantly driving into town in search of a replacement coffee maker, and being rewarded when a huge, beautiful red-tailed hawk flew directly in front of our car, nearly hitting the windshield. It flew safely into the wooded area on the other side of the road and we marveled at the detail we were able to view up close.
• Watching a harmless water snake that lives in the weeds by the sandy swimming area catch minnows in the shallow water. I don’t care for snakes but this one was interesting to watch.
• Finding a dead snake in the grass by the lake, looking very much like he had been flattened and severed by machinery, and being glad it was not the harmless water snake but a copperhead.
• Walking with the dog, watching him chase squirrels and chipmunks and follow dozens of trails of scents that led up trees or further than his old legs were willing to go.
• Enjoying the cool breeze and the sun-warmed dock on my back while I stretched out with the dog for my pillow.
• Did I mention the BLTs?