Dot roped Tom and I into singing a duet at her church this morning, which was easy, and it’s always great to sing in church (not least of all because you ALWAYS get told how nice it sounds). She plays the organ in an Episcopal church in Ashland, where she used to teach. Ashland is on Lake Superior, and after that, we drove north to Bayfield, and took the ferry to Madeline Island. We drove to the state park at the end of the island and met Dot’s friend Mark Eggleston, the head Ranger, at the entry booth. He lied to us about a good fishing spot, but John and I enjoyed the mile walk up a boardwalk between the bay and the lagoon to the alleged spot, then back along the beach, with the cool waters of Superior chilling our feet.
We cooked brats while John floated on the lake. I kidded him about not being as grown-up as he’s been acting – he was floating within a few feet of a bevy of very pretty girls, about 16 years old, and he was pretty much ignoring them. That will change. (no photos of the pretty girls included. after all, i wasn't interested either.)
Maggie and Sue -- couldn't resist (Brie & Savannah & Melissa too?) This shop is on Madeline Island in Lake Superior. I'm not exactly sure what it sells, but I guess her thought is that the third daughter had to fend for herself.
We also gained even more respect for John’s 6
th Grade language teacher, Ms. Burner. John asked Tom and Dot about whether
Lake Superior seas can be rough, and Tom and I burst into a rendition of “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” John groaned, and said he knew that song from the poetry lessons in language class. Thanks for teaching him the classics, Ms. Burner!
I also found a new source of supply for next July 4th’s “Wurst Party of the Summer.” There’s a market in Ashland with a butcher shop that produces 20 different kind of brats. We had onion and garlic, which were delicious, but they also have onion and mustard, sauerkraut, pizza, salsa, mushroom, Swiss cheese, and “end of the day” brats (the latter being whatever is left in the grinder). Maybe they’ll ship some east for us.
I finally broke down and took a picture of John posing in front of something meaningless, some old propeller on Madeline Island. I think it's there to take pictures of while you're waiting for the ferry.