Last Gulp

They say it will be an early winter. But here and now, in the morning sun, the wind is warm, and the coast is clear for one last swig of summer.

Quick. Take out the Canon for one more shot at the beach. Snap. One more gaze out into the bay. Snap and catch a gull in one last flight along that wave, before snap and it’s gone. Just like that. Last chance to get sand in your shoes before the season’s end. Up North, as we say, in pure Michigan our summer is glorious. All too brief.

September 9-12, last days of summer, going fast: Spent a long weekend on a "business holiday" at the annual retreat of the Oakwood Healthcare System. Stayed in Bay Harbor, a resort development in the line of coastal towns along Lake Michigan's Little Traverse Bay, a stone’s throw from Petoskey and scenic Charlevoix. On the Michigan “mitten” map, the location would be the tip of the ring finger (or thereabouts).

Friday: an autumn chill in the air, good for biking. 5 hours in the saddle, riding out under grey leaden skies to bright blue. Took a 40 mile bike hike on park paths and country roads from Petosky to Harbor Springs and beyond. There was M, all decked out on his own Trek Madone, and there was me (more grammatically correct, there I was) - on a rental with a cranky gear, rockin’ and rolling ‘til the rolling hills got the better of me. Stopped at a Farmer’s Market Cafe, an idyllic spot for lunch, best meal of the weekend.

Saturday afternoon golf in the rain (as Michigan golfers are prone to do, ‘cuz we’re tough) until the greens flooded and our hands went numb (not a bad round considering).

Saturday night costume party, a time-honored tradition of the board: to come as you really are or as your alter-ego might suggest. Over the years at this affair, M and I have been odd couples: Mario Brothers, Blues Brothers, Annie Hall and Woody Allen, a Para Docs (bad pun, easy costume). This year we opted for our true selves- Rocky and Bullwinkle. Pure Michigan... silliness.

Sunday after-brunch, a last minute walk along the beach. Last-minute stop to shop for Petosky stones -- little polished pieces of petrified coral found in abundance along the Michigan shores. More pure Michigan. (To be continued with tomorrow's post.)


  1. Geez. That's Michigan? It looks marvelous! Like California. Or (sometimes) Ohio. Love the lakes. Great photos and Diary of A Fun Weekend. Waiting for tomorrow's edition. Now, if I could remember where I put that Petosky stone I had ....

  2. Today's CAPTCHA: Gerse.

    It looks like it has a great deal of potential. But I can't think of a darned thing. Actually writing today. Used up my brain cell.

    Got anything?
    Or for decinnog?
    Or Hotstoo?

    I may never post this if the CAPTCHAs keep looking this promising...

    I bet those trolling computers get together after hours and laugh at the stoopid hoomans.

  3. Thanks so much for checking in... and distracting me uncontrollably from the BlogThing this evening.

    CAPTCHAS. Oh too funny. Decinnog? The holiday formula for Desenex. Pine or brandy scented.

    Gerse: a succession of full glottal stops written or orally composed as single lines of poetry. v. To speak or communicate in free gerse.

    Hotstoo . . . mutual sexual attraction.

  4. Nonsense. I just realized I've posted utter nonsense for those who may be unfamiliar with CAPTCHA™. Otherwise known as Word Verification --( see

    The term -based on the word capture - stands for Completely Automated Public Turing Test to Tell Computers and Humans Apart. According to Wikipedia, a CAPTCHA is a type of test used in computing to protect against automated postings and mail spam.

    Annie and I have started taking note of the"Captcha of the Day" - as we post our comments on one another's blog -- with suggestions for "definition." So pardon the wordplay - it's meant as nothing more than idle amusement.

    For more and far better humor and wisdom, do stop by Annie's blog:


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