July 23-Aug. 23 Knife River, MN
Another month down…there have been very few days this month that we could have sailed faster than about two knots. It’s been dead calm. The flies can be horrendous. Thankfully, it always cools down in the evening, and often is cool all day. Just last week we got our first chilly 3-day nor-easter wind, signs of the coming fall. We’ve had almost no rain and are suffering from the worst drought on record—while 200 miles south, they are suffering from the worst flooding on record. One thing that has changed for me since returning is that the whole fact of climate change has come to the fore of my consciousness and stayed there. I find myself going through many emotions as my psyche integrates the fact that life as we know it is changing quickly—panic, anger, resignation, acceptance, astonishment. If the lake continues to recede, as is predicted, (due to the condensation over the winter, since it’s not freezing anymore, and also the lack of snowfall), Knife River marina may be dry in ten years or less. Our beloved birch trees are on their way out as the shoreline climate is too hot and dry. One gorgeous foggy morning I felt like I was watching the waterline drop in front of my eyes, the fog sucking the moisture off the lake… How to accept what is happening while still hope and work for a country with sane policies and sane lifestyles? We saw so many cool places on our trip, so many won’t-be-cool-long places, and so many already-lost places. It’s impossible to stay unaware. This lakeshore is one of those still relatively untouched places…
We are getting very excited to move into our new house, just 7 minutes from Soltreks and a block from the lake (at least right now). Cedar chortled the other day and remarked, “I guess timeouts aren’t going to work anymore mom, because there’s no v-berth and it’s too far to carry us all the way upstairs!” I responded mildly, “Maybe you’ll have to carry yourself upstairs for a timeout,” and Cedar laughed. “oh, I’d never do that. I’d be much too lonely. That won’t work at all.” Such is how Cedar is determining her life these days, and the lives of all those around her. A limit is solely a tantalizing line to cross, the sooner the better. Clearly, she and I need some time away from each other, and with her upcoming preschool, we’ll get it. She thrives on time away from all of us. She went to a church camp in Two Harbors and, far from being overwhelmed by the fact that she didn’t know a soul there, she wanted to make sure that I didn’t come back too soon!
The biggest thing I notice these days with Cedar and Lamar that is presumably a result of their life on a boat is how completely joined at the hip they are. We enjoy it sometimes and other times it gets downright irritating! Their first loyalty is to each other until things are truly out of control and someone gets hurt; then they might, just might, agree with someone else’s perspective. I thought wrestling was a boy-thing??? They refuse to wear warm clothes even when it’s in the 40s and our dressing habits seem to have no effect on them at all. On the other hand, it’s very convenient when Lamar is waking from her nap and I am occupied and I know that Cedar can give hugs and find snacks just as easily as I.
One weekend we drove to the Apostle Islands so that I could participate in the obviously crazy 2-mile swim to Madeleine Island. It was great fun and luckily the water was bearable (it could have been downright icy) but I hadn’t swum a distance in years…let’s just say I won’t tell you how long it took me, and I couldn’t get warm once I got out. We had a fun weekend, saw old friends, and returned to Minnesota just as I paid for my audacity with a massive head cold that plagues me still.
Last week, while Mark worked fulltime plus, the three of us went on a 2-night camping retreat with about 20 other women and young children, on a beautiful property out in Wisconsin. Perpetual kid fun, women’s circles, yoga, gourmet organic meals, singing…and new friends. Hooray. Lamar stuck close to me and watched all the nursing, and sucked her thumb. She was probably one of the few weaned 2-yr. olds. Cedar, on the other hand, was on her own discovering all there was to do, retreating only to disappear into our tent and reconnect with her Little House book. For both girls it was their first night in a tent ever (!!!); both adored it. Of course, we have promised that now that we’re not always sailing, we’ll be able to camp more.
We’re only a week away from our house closing and we’re ready. We’ve decided that living on a sailboat in a marina without budging all summer is very different from living on a boat amid a voyaging adventure. I mean, even the icebox is getting old, not to mention the twin-size mattress we’ve been sleeping on for over a year. And the chart table just doesn’t have much space when it comes to real-life paperwork.
It hasn’t been so bad, actually. Sort of like living in a tiny apartment with no running water. The difficulties come from trying to live the landlubber life while still on the water. Mark is gone all day (and very much enjoying his new job; already he’s had kids with seizures, happy feet, and dislocated shoulders—and more seriously, many amazing moments with kids and their parents moving forward from broken relationships). We girls visit every library program around, work out all the finances for our new life, ride bikes, haul water, and pick raspberries. That about sums it up.
