The shoal

It's kind of like a slightly mundane but pleasant dream. Every day I wake up and I am still at Powers Lake, only no one is here except for me and Brian. We are not really supposed to be here but we are. There is no family gathering, no friends coming to stay, and no one who has just left. It's only us, the crickets, a faint smell of manure from somebody's lawn, and the hum of motorboats in the distance.

I mentioned in my last post that Brian and I have started canoeing out to the shoal. This is sort of our poor man's version of dropping the anchor of our big pontoon at the rock bar in the middle of the lake. It's a good system, though. We load up a red wagon with a little cooler, a few bricks to keep the canoe in place, a couple of beach chairs and some sunscreen. We put the canoe into the water and start to paddle.

I am not a good paddler. As someone who prefers to be good at everything this annoys me. I don't know if it's because I was never really taught how to paddle (how hard can it be?), because I lack upper body strength (I did recently win an arm wrestling contest, though), or because I lack hand-eye coordination. As Brian will report, I paddle erratically. My paddle is too shallow or too deep, too fast and then too slow right after that.

My canoe partner must help compensate pretty well because we eventually make it to the shoal and scare away the sea gulls who have been hanging out there. Then we set up our beach chairs and sit. That's about all. From far away it would look like we are sitting in the middle of the lake.

Other than shoal-sitting there has been some cleaning, some laundry, and a couple of chores around the house. Mostly though it's just quiet, and a little surreal. I think in a couple of weeks, I will miss the crickets.