Sunday, August 01, 2010

Language of the Lake

I have learned an awful lot this summer. Our first summer East of the Equator.
I have learned that most people who don't know us immediately suggest that one can't GET east of the equator. My husband, with a distinguished career as a Naval Officer, is well versed with navigation. And we can get here. It's just up US 23 on the glorious banks of Lake Huron.
From Oscoda Summer
Cottages are expected to have a sign. So we had one made.
Lake Huron has some pretty cool nicknames.
We are what the locals refer to as weekenders, for obvious reasons.
We are not 'seasonals.' Seasonals have a camper of some kind and park it in one of the hundreds of campgrounds around this magnificent state and come and go for the season. When summer season is over, they pack up the camper and go home. Wherever home is.
For those who live on the beach, it is poor form to not keep your beach up. We have succumbed to the delightful peer pressure north and south, spending hours pulling ugly beach grass, roots and weeds from our sugar sand. Good neighbors are everything up here.  And we have several.  
It is extremely poor form to litter on the beach. There is virtually no litter anywhere to be seen. In fact, when we see litter, we pick it up; we have seen others do the same.
With the exception of expensive jetskis, most people leave things out. Kayaks, canoes, umbrellas, floating tires, beach chairs. None of our stuff has gone missing. It's unwritten protocol to return things to higher ground if found floating in the water. On our morning walks with the Handsome One, we have found kayaks, inner tubes and doggy toys two or three waves from breaking free. We just hoist or throw them further from the water.
Living on the beach gives you permission to be a voyeur, complete with binoculars and telescopes. Don't laugh - it's true. You see a small blog on the lake horizon and you immediately want to know what kind of boat it is.
There are few chain restaurants where we are. The local spots have terrific food and atmosphere. We love to eat out here - you can tell the kids working summer jobs, home from college and the owners who are grateful for a full restaurant.
There is a crazy canoe race up here. I was thinking old, metal canoes with heavy paddles clunking along. Oh no, these canoes are lightweight, expensive and covered in sponsors. But I will write about that later.

Cheers from East of the Equator.

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