Thirty-five years ago, on a beautiful sunny October day, The Kat™ and The Bear™ were united in marriage.
omg, we were so young! (Not really, 26 and 25, but still.)
The reception was held in the lodge at Timberlane, a resort on the same lake -- sort of -- that my parents lived on. They lived on a bay that had been separated years before from the main lake by a highway; it was connected by a culvert under the highway that would periodically get plugged by floating bogs that the beavers had chewed loose. Either the highway department or my dad would then have to blast it open with dynamite. The level of the bay would fluctuate significantly, depending on how the culvert was running. This raised havoc with the fishing... and hence my dad's temper.
My favorite part of the whole day, aside from the actually getting married part, was the food at the reception.
The bride and groom get to go through the line first :-)
To commemorate this momentous occasion (who'd'a thunk it would last this long?) we spent a few days in a quaint little log cabin in a quaint little mom'n'pop resort on the North Shore overlooking Lake Superior.
The cabins were built in the 1920s and 1930s by Horace Stickney, an ancestor (I think) of the present owners.
I was entranced to discover that the spaces between the logs were chinked with moss, just like the pioneers did it.
Closer inspection revealed that the *moss* was in fact bits of yellow fiberglass insulation that had turned brown over the years.
My disillusionment was tempered by finding evidence of former cabin guests.
The dogs came with us, of course.
The autumn colors were at their peak.
The four of us went for a walk along the shore, where I noticed the similarities between these two profiles.
This building on the resort property was obviously very, very old.
A little internet research after we got home told me that this was the original bunkhouse of the Shroeder Lumber Company. The resort is in Schroeder, a tiny village on the North Shore.
I brought along a couple knitting projects but didn't really get a lot done. Too many naps, too much playing with the dogs, too many games of Boggle with Smokey.
We ate once at the Blue Fin Grille -- good burgers, great dessert, right on the water -- and once at the Nakomis (the name is spelled wrong in the linked review), where Smokey had the walleye poor boy and it was indeed excellent. I had a grilled tuna sandwich, also excellent but not as good as his. Both were accompanied by truffle [french] fries. Now I know why people like truffles so much. Mmm, earthy yumminess.
On the way home we stopped at Playing with Yarn, a yarn store along old Highway 61. It may have been tiny, but it was packed to the ceiling(s) with great yarns. I purchased this skein of Misti Alpaca hand-dyed sock yarn.
Souvenir yarn. Y'all do that, too, don't you?
