A Dougherty Snow Day

It turned out to be a splendid day. We were all looking forward to a snowy Sunday but as the hours marched on towards Monday, I started to lose hope. The weather people had been downgrading the storm all day and by 8:30, I d resigned myself to a measly dusting of snow (while my family in Minneapolis was literally rolling in it).

An hour later, we were celebrating. Jack came downstairs with the most marvelous news— a new winter storm warning had been issued and there were 5 to 9 inches of snow on the way.  I love a snow day like a George loves his Chuck-it and judging from Charlie's happy dance, I think he does as well. I couldn't wait to wake up on Monday morning to a world of white.

The kids technically had school but we live 12 miles away, the roads were bad and it was still snowing when we woke up; I decided a Dougherty Day was in order (a Dougherty day is an unplanned day off to lounge around the house and play hooky). Last week was a blur— between ski team, volleyball and Christmas Carol, we were running around constantly. Today was a much-needed break from the treadmill of commitments the kids have each week. We played with the dogs outside, went for a walk downtown, baked cookies, played cards and assembled Christmas treats. It was a perfect Dougherty snow day.

Bayfield loves a fresh coat of snow, it looked like a Norman Rockwell painting today.

My two girls in the snow. We went for our walk before we spent the afternoon in the kitchen. I'm not much of a baker but we decided to tackle some Christmas cookies and treats. Overall, it went well. We have about 2 million mints, I misread the directions and ended up quadrupling the recipe. Thank God the kids like butter mints.

George was acting horridly on the way down to the dock so I decided to let him loose rather than fall flat on my face because he refused to stop tugging me along. He took off and didn't look back, that dog knows how to have a good time.

George prefers to handle the leash himself.

This may be kind of a lame Christmas treat but it's totally within my skill set and it's a big hit around here. Who doesn't like pretzels dipped in almond bark and rolled in crushed candy canes?

Butter mints are going to be the name of the game around here for a while, we have a lot of them. The combination of my utter disregard for reading recipes and lack of reading glasses resulted in a miscalculation with the powdered sugar.  We have a lot of mints to eat, give away, vacuum pack, pave the driveway with...you get the idea. The good news is that it's a super easy recipe and they remind me of the mints my Grandmas Duffy always had at her house.

Butter Mints(From Williams Sonoma Holiday Cooking With Kids)

2 1/2 cups confectioners sugar
2 tbsp butter, softened
1 1/2 tbsp warm water
1/2 tsp peppermint extract, plus extra as needed
red and green food coloring

Preparation
Put one cup of the sugar, butter and 1 tbsp of water in the bowl of a mixer. Beat on medium speed until the mixture is smooth and well blended. Slowly add the remaining 1 1/2 cups sugar and 1/2 tsp water, continuing to beat at medium speed until the mixture is smooth. The sugar mixture should be soft and not sticky. Add more water if it's crumbly and if it's too sticky, add more sugar. It should have the consistency of pie crust dough.

Remove dough from the mixer, separate it into 1 to 4 smaller balls, and add one ball back into the mixer. Add the food coloring of your choice to the ball by squirting the droplets on top of the dough (careful when you turn on the mixer), and paddle on low-speed until coloring is well-blended. Coloring will not blend completely into each and every speck of dough if examined extremely closely, but overall, mix until color is uniform.

Wash the mixing bowl and the paddle in between each color change and repeat until all the balls are colored. After the dough has been colored, either wrap it with plastic wrap and place it in an airtight container in the refrigerator to be rolled out later or roll it immediately.

Place a golf-ball sized amount of dough in your hands and roll dough into long thin cylinders about 1 centimeter wide. Place cylinders on countertop and with a pizza cutter slice cylinder into bite size pieces. You can make any size or shape of mint that strikes your fancy— go crazy! Store mints in an airtight container in the refrigerator where they will keep for many weeks.

Will's Dark & Foggy Photo Safari

Will captured some beautiful images of the harbor last night during his solo photo safari.

He's such a gifted photographer and I love seeing the world through his eyes.

An October Afternoon At The Springs

Roald Dahl said, 'And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it'. Good advice if you ask me. I am a firm believer in magic— in the water, among the trees, in the stalwart devotion of my husband, the stars shining in the night sky, in the love for my children, the flash of a bird's wing, the exuberance of my dogs and the companionship of friends. I truly believe the whole world is revealed to us in the most minute details; our photo safaris are my way to uncover those great secrets.

I was across the stream looking at a particularly curvy branch, turned around and snapped this photo of Charlie. His mind operates at a break neck speed and I rarely catch him just sitting quietly. His reverie was broken by the arrival of George and Viv— they were in the throes of canine joy and bounded onto the scene with serious verve. George was pretty happy to have a big dog to play with, the Cavaliers are not terribly interested in romping through the woods— it messes up their perfectly coiffed coats.

The colors were more muted and monochromatic on this trip to the springs. The energy was quiet and contemplative; it almost seemed like the trees knew colder and darker days are ahead.

Everytime I go out with my camera, I ask the trees to reveal themselves, to give me a glimpse into who they are. Sometimes it is just a beautifully symmetrical whorl in the bark or roots wrapped in an embrace. Since Halloween was around the corner, it was a jack o lantern face in a piece of birch bark— it's good to know the trees have a sense of humor. The greatest secrets are indeed hidden in the most unlikely places.

A Windy October Day In Bayfield

We had a very blustery day in the beginning of October. I spent the morning asking the pines that surround my house to hold on and stand tall. Every time a branch hit the roof, I jumped 2 feet in the air (does that count as exercise)?? Even with my falling tree branch anxiety, I love a windy day in the fall. The pines drop all their golden pine needles and blanket the ground in the most beautiful color of copper. It smells divine when the sun hits them and they release their piney fragrance.

I picked up the kids from school and Sadie suggested we head down to City Dock to capture some windy day photos. The combination of bright sunlight, richly colored leaves and a brilliantly blue lake made for a batch of beautiful pictures.

A Carnival, Parade & Pie

Every year, I have the same conversation with the kids. It goes something like this, 'can we go on the rides, play the carnie games, ride the Zipper?' My answer is always the same— 'absolutely not' but then I crumble like a shortbread cookie, hand over 50.00 to the ticket taker and the kids have a blast. At least I am consistent with my inconsistencies.

Applefest happens the first weekend in October and this little town of 400 people swells to what seems like 4 million. There are all sorts of delicious and unhealthy food choices (hand dipped corn dogs are a personal favorite), booths lining the streets selling everything from bed sheets to cranberries to handmade soap, an apple peeling contest (the winning peel was over 200 inches long) and there is a big parade. Bayfield is particularly well suited for a parade— Rittenhouse gently slopes towards the lake and is lined with picturesque storefronts. There is something about a high school marching band that makes me smile, especially when Will is marching along playing his saxophone.

What do you need the night before a big parade? Pie, of course. After all the nutritious cotton candy, mini doughnuts and corn dogs, we needed a pie with at least one redeeming nutritional component. We settled on banoffee pie— basically a banana cream pie with a few twists. Sadie and her friends assembled the pie while I was making dinner— too many cooks didn't spoil this pie, it was delicious. I made the dulce de leche earlier in the day (recipe here) and it was as easy at the recipe stated (in a crock pot, nonetheless).

Banoffee Pie (Adapted from Melskitchencafe.com)

Crust 36 chocolate sandwich cookies (like Oreos) 7 tbsp butter, melted

Pie 2 3/8 cups of dulce de leche 3 bananas 1 1/2 cup chocolate covered toffee bits (I used Heath) Bits) 1 1/2 cup heavy whipping cream 1/2 cup powdered sugar 12 ounces regular cream cheese, softened 1/2 cup brown sugar

Prepare Crust Add the cookies to a food processor and process until it resembles coarse meal. Put the Oreos in a bowl, add the melted butter and combine thoroughly. Press the mixture into the bottom and up the sides of a buttered 10 inch springform pan. Refrigerate or freeze until set.

Prepare Pie Spread the dulce de leche over the bottom and up the sides of the crust. In a medium bowl, combine the powdered sugar, brown sugar and cream cheese. Whip with a handheld or stand mixer until smooth and fluffy. Add heavy whipping cream on low-speed and mix until combined. Increase the mixer speed to medium and mix until the mixture is light and creamy and is the consistency of thick frosting.

Slice the bananas about 1/4 inch think and layer the slices over the dulce de leche. Sprinkle about 1/2 cup of the toffee bits over the bananas. Spread the whipped cream filling over the bananas and toffee, making sure to spread all the way to the edges of the pie. Sprinkle the top with the remaining toffee bits and chill for at least 2 hours and up to 8 hours before serving. This pie is best eaten the day its made, the bananas start to get mushy if it sits too long.

Will's Birthday Lost Creek Walkabout

Will celebrated his fifteenth birthday on October 3rd and we headed out to Lost Creek Falls for a mid-week photo safari to mark his big day. I can't think of a better place to spend an afternoon, I was so excited to hit the road with the kids and hike out to the falls. It was a perfect fall afternoon— sunny, warm and the leaves were brilliant shades of red and yellow. Again, I was humbled by the mind-blowing beauty that surrounds us every day.

Meg was making chains with the leaves that were scattered everywhere you looked, she is a remarkably creative girl. We brought that particular specimen home. I saved it and will give it to her someday far in the future, when this walk is just a beautiful memory.

I had an incredibly hard time choosing pictures for this post, it was absolutely stunning that afternoon. Albert Camus said, 'autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower' and that certainly holds true up here. Autumn has always been my favorite season— I love the cooler temperatures, the viscous evening light, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot and the smell of wood smoke. I like the autumnal energy of endings— a bittersweet turning away and heading towards the quiet of winter.

I will never tire of walking in running water (in rain boots, of course). The feeling of the water rushing by reminds me that we all are on a journey towards our own big water and to savor the vistas and experiences along the way.

The leaves were strewn everywhere, the remnants of Nature's ticker tape parade.

I brought three maple leaves from my yard as an offering of gratitude for Will and the afternoon we spent exploring the forest, creek and falls. Spending a couple of hours taking pictures, building cairns and celebrating our lives among the pines, maples, oaks and waters of this area does more good for my spirit than anything I can imagine.

Charlie is learning how to use his camera and I love looking them over when we return home. It's clear after looking at his photos, he appreciates the nuance and small details of the natural world. I wonder if he knows when Nature reveals herself to us— in the light reflecting off a rock ledge, a lone red leaf in the stream or the dappled light through golden branches, we are in a state of grace. When I feel my spirit becoming ragged, I travel back to these afternoons at Lost Creek and feel my rough edges start to soften and my spirit restore itself.

Will, Charlie and Meghan built cairns in the basin, I think they were looking for a way to leave their mark and celebrate Will's birthday. I'd like to think the cairns were their way of making an offering of gratitude to the spectacular and nurturing energy that resides at Lost Creek. We all walked out of the forest feeling happy and sated by the dazzling light, water and leaves that enveloped us on Will's birthday.

Running at Telemark

I would be hard pressed to come up with a compelling reason to run anywhere. I guess any scenario that involves running for my life would qualify as compelling but thank God I haven't had to explore that scenario. Will is a great runner and runs many, many miles on purpose, in non life threatening situations and for his own personal enjoyment. He joined the cross-country team this year and had a great season.

This meet was at Telemark in Cable and in between shouting encouragement for Will and his teammates, I took a few pictures. The grounds were beautifully decayed, it must have been quite the place in its heyday.

Photo Safari With Gen's Horses

I think I could turn and live with the animals,  they are so placid and self contained; I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition; They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins; They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God; Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things; Not one kneels to another, nor his kind that lived thousands of years ago; Not one is responsible or unhappy over the whole earth.

Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Springs Of The Sioux

Julie, Charly and an assortment of children joined us for our photo safari a few weeks ago. They showed us the way to the springs of the Sioux River and now I have another place to add my 'favorite places on Earth' list.

Standing at the springs, I felt a deep sense of gratitude and said a prayer of thanksgiving. Thanks for being near water flowing from deep in the earth, seeing the kids develop their own relationship with the natural world, dear friends to share these special places with and the generous spirit of the trees watching over us.

Little Sioux Redux

The last photo safari of September was a mixed bag. We went back to the Little Sioux and walked the other way (I think it was upstream but orienteering  is not my strong suit so who knows which way we went). Anyways, it was not the best adventure we have ever had— Sadie fell and filled her boots with cold stream water, George did not have his listening ears on and after the first 100 feet, we were bushwhacking our way along the stream bed. The good news is we made it back to the car without too much trauma and Meg found some wet, slimy clay to bring back to the house. Not too shabby for an afternoon in the woods.

Lowertown Photo Safari

The kids and I spent a couple hours in Lowertown, taking pictures and walking down memory lane. We wandered into the warehouse where we lived when Jack was born. Sawatdee and a school for deaf children used to be on the main floor and I remember walking in, smelling Thai food (which got really old after a while) and seeing little kids excitedly signing on their way to their classrooms. It hasn't changed much, maybe a little cleaner and they have a mailroom now but it still smells like dinner is cooking— Lenny Russo's restaurant, Heartland, has the entire main floor. I doubt the smell of Heartland's food would ever get old, it's a great restaurant.

When we lived at the Cosmopolitan, we owned a basset hound named Lucy who was resolutely opposed to housetraining. She ruined our carpet in the apartment so Ted, showing the first signs of his all around handy-ness, tore it up and refinished the hardwood. We had the only apartment (there were 250) with beautiful bird's-eye maple floors, thanks to Lucy. Like they say, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade (or tear up the carpet and start over). Ironically, Lucy hated walking on the hardwood and would jump from rug to rug with a long suffering look on her face. Our names are in the closet under 5 layers of varnish, I wonder if they're still there?

There was a piano in Mears Park, not sure what that was all about, maybe cultural enrichment?? I bought Guinness, my Newfie, when we lived in Lowertown and we spent many, many hours in the park. There were pigeons (Jack used to call them chickens), people sitting on the benches, buses roaring by trying to make the light on 5th and Wacouta and dogs on leashes in the park. Not much has changed and it felt good.

The Gopher Bar— cheap beer (at least it used to be) and coney dogs. We would walk up once a week, order a pitcher of beer and power down a couple coney dogs. If I tried that now, I would have heartburn for days and an extra 25 pounds on my backside. Ah, how I miss the rigorous digestive system and metabolism of my youth.

Shooting In Irvine Park

Ted and I had our wedding reception at Forepaugh's— Irvine Park and the fountain sit right below the restaurant. We lived in Lowertown for years and Jack, Will, Lucy (our naughty basset hound) and I would walk to Irvine Park and then onto Dairy Queen on West 7th. Lucy liked cake cones, Jack liked blue Mr Mistys and Will was a little man who didn't eat ice cream yet. I still can see Jack running up to the fountain and throwing acorns and sticks in it and Will, with blond hair, sitting in the stroller smiling. It was good to remember those tender days when we were starting out and realize it worked out far better than we could have dreamed back then.

I used to work at the St Paul Companies and would walk to Irvine Park on my lunch break to sit by the fountain. This is the very same bench I used to sit at when I was pregnant with Jack. I've always sought out running water, even if it meant walking 8 blocks for 10 minutes under the trees and by the fountain. I never dreamed I would have these five people in my life but I thank every lucky star I can find, every day, for them.

Farmers Market Nirvana

We lived in Lowertown for seven years and the Farmers Market was a weekly ritual in the summer. Looking back, I am not sure we fully realized how lucky we were to live a block from heaping piles of fresh vegetables. We went to the market when we were in St. Paul last month and it is hasn't changed much.  The same woman is still selling A Toast To Bread baguettes and boules, there are still baskets of tomatoes under the tables, strollers are still used as battering rams and people still wander the aisles with bags of fresh vegetables in each hand.

Red Kuri squash— my favorite squash for stuffing with sausage, dried cranberries, bread crumbs and Gruyere cheese.

We lived in a loft overlooking the market when Jack was born and it was the first place we took him after we left the hospital. I used to stand at the window at 3 or 4 in the morning with my new little Jack and watch the farmers set up. It provided solace for my sleep deprived spirit to see other people were awake in the middle of the night. It's hard to believe it was eighteen years ago; time has wings and flies faster the older I get. Walking among the stalls, I felt a flood of memories sweep over me. This market gave me lots of 'firsts'— basil for homemade pesto, tomatoes for marinara sauce, zucchini for bread and green beans for roasting. What a gift to not only remember but to re-visit the place where we started.

The Land

I really don't know where to start this blog post, the Land and I have a checkered past. I grew up in Minneapolis and was absolutely, positively a city girl. The closest I got to the great outdoors was going to Lake Vermillion every summer and staying in a cabin with my family.We fished, swam and went to the dump at dusk to watch the bears. It all changed the year I turned thirteen. My parents bought 90 acres in Frederic Wisconsin and I had a fierce learning curve in outdoor survival skills (okay, maybe not survival skills but it seemed pretty intense to my thirteen year old self).

We have always referred to it as the 'Land', I honestly have no idea why we gave it such a nondescript title. For a long time, there was just a pole barn, an RV, a trampoline and 90 acres of farm fields and woods. The house is a relatively new addition, within the last 5 years or so, but we still call it the Land. My Mom would pack a picnic and my siblings in the station wagon and we would drive an hour and a half for lunch. Ironically, I have done the same thing with my kids—except we would drive four hours each way to spend a day and a half in Bayfield (I never had my act together enough to pack a lunch). As an adult and parent, I know what it feels like to want to get out of Dodge. As a kid, it seemed like a long way to go for lunch.

Even in the throes of teenaged angst, I enjoyed our afternoon outings. It was novel to be sitting in a field, listening to the cicadas, surrounded by tall grass and clover. I brought my friend, Lee, along for the ride one year and she sneezed the entire time. Evidently, she had horrid allergies and her adventure in rural Wisconsin exacerbated them. We still laugh about it and wonder if she ever went outside of city limits after her lunch with us. The Land holds many of our family stories— the time we found a fawn, the hawk dive bombing our dog, Murphy, deer hunting and alternative uses for mayo jars, well drilling and fracking, Red Freddie, bucket rides and Naturally Northern raspberries.

My Dad was a pharmaceutical salesman for many years and Southern California was part of his territory. He saw how large-scale raspberry farming was done out west, pesticides and all, and we never ate a commercially grown raspberry after that. After a tremendous amount of work and planning, he now has a thriving company, Naturally Northern, selling pesticide, herbicide and insecticide free raspberries in Minneapolis. He said when he first bought the Land, there were no birds or predatory insects because it was farmed commercially with all sorts of chemicals. He has not used anything except fertilizer for years and it shows— there are dragonflies and birds everywhere, wildflowers in the fields and the raspberry field is filled with bees.

Will and I took off on a photo safari the morning before we left. I had forgotten how beautiful it is up there. Walking through the woods, on paths I haven't step foot on for years, was a revelation. The seeds of my love for Lake Superior and Bayfield were sown amidst the moaning and groaning of my adolescence about having to go to the Land.  As an adult, I am grateful for the weekends spent in Frederic and not at Southdale with my friends or in my room wishing I could marry Simon Le Bon.

When Will and I returned, the girls and Nana were in the midst of a cookie baking adventure. Nana's cookies are legendary around our house and the girls love to help her. Sadie copied down a few recipes while the cookies were baking. She is following in her Nana's footsteps—she is a great baker.

I have been blessed to be part of a family who have always marched to the beat of their own drummer. It is a legacy that I want to pass on to my kids— have the courage to live your life with abandon and stay the course when the waters get rough. What more can you ask for?

Morning On The Beach

I woke up at 6:44 today. George sleeps on a chair in our bedroom and the minute I open my eyes, he is at my side and ready to start the day. Needless to say, we were all up at 6:45, how can I say no to a yellow lab with such an eager face? I found the leashes, George found his tennis ball and we headed to the beach. Gus took off after a butterfly, Seamus found a feather, George was in the water and Henry stayed at my side— a glorious way to spend Thursday morning.

This raven has become a touchstone for me— he reminds me to surrender, be grateful and remain open to unseen but deeply felt forces.

One of the gifts of an early morning walk on the beach is the artifacts left over from the previous day— sandcastles, stick structures and footprints in the sand.

Lost Creek Falls Revisited

We went back to Lost Creek Falls a few weeks ago. This time, Ted and our good friends, Jeannie and Eric, came along for the adventure. The hike back to the falls was breathtaking— countless shades of green leaves and lush ferns lined the path. It was also muddy but the kids had rain boots. They found great joy in slogging through the middle of each and every mud puddle. The adults, sans rain boots, opted to avoid the mud and seek higher ground along the trail.

Meghan and I took a detour and walked along the stream bed to the second falls. It turned out to be a fortuitous detour— we found yellow brain fungus on a dead limb. It certainly looks otherworldly in the forest, the bright yellow sticks out like a sore thumb.

The second Lost Falls is one of my favorite places on earth. When Meg and I walked down the hill to the basin, a sense of calm and gratitude washed over me. Standing alongside an ancient rock wall, I felt the healing power of water, trees and time spent with family and friends.

I was behind the waterfall and saw Charlie and Carver sitting in the sun through the veil of running water. I wondered how these experiences will impact my kids as they grow older and what they will carry forward into their lives. If even a little piece of an afternoon spent deep in the woods near a waterfall stays with them, I will be thrilled.

I never tire of the sound of rushing water and thanks to a couple good rainfalls, the water was vigorously flowing in the stream and over the falls. I could have spent hours there, it was a magical afternoon.

The light was amazing and I turned to take one last picture. I wanted to capture the love, nurturing and gratitude I felt that afternoon. In the chaotic course of my daily life, I can feel the cool rush of air near the falls, the sound of rushing water and see my family against the sacred backdrop of the forest that this photo captured. I will carry it with me forever.

We Went Hiking Up A Hill

We went for a hike up Pratt's Peak. I heard it is the highest point in Northern Bayfield County— elevation 1426 feet. We parked off Happy Hollow Road and headed up a snowmobile trail. The kids enjoyed the mud.

I enjoyed the glimpses of vibrant color against the monochrome landscape of early spring.

There is a fork in the road and we chose to go left. It turned out to be a good choice, the trail began to climb through a forest filled with dead, standing birch trees. A birch fell about 5 feet in front of us as we were remarking about all the birch logs on the ground. I asked Will if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? We decided, yes it does.

We got to the top and looked around, where was the lake? A lot of trees but no glistening blue water. Will climbed a tree to get a better view and reported that maybe we were on the wrong side. My orienteering skills are paltry at best but I know we went hiking up a hill. I heard there is a lake up there, maybe we will take a right at the fork in the road next time.

The Leeward Side

Although you wouldn't know it by looking out the window today, Saturday was a taste of summer in April. I haven't been to Madeline since last fall and a picnic on the beach sounded like a brilliant plan. We stopped at the IGA, grabbed chips, cheese, crackers and a trashy magazine (People magazine is a prerequisite for a Mary Dougherty beach day) and boarded the ferry. The wind was picking up and the ride was a little rough. Big Bay Town Park was on the leeward side of the island and I knew we were headed towards a stellar afternoon.

Charlie asked me how old he was the first time he went to Madeline Island. When I said, three weeks old, he had an incredulous look on his face. It wasn't as crazy as it sounds, it wasn't my first rodeo and Charlie was an easygoing baby. The Madeline Island 4th of July parade is a not to be missed event for the Dougherty's. A little thing like a newborn baby was not going to stop us from going to the parade and watching fireworks from the boat!

George was the only dog invited. Actually, he invited himself. He was running around the house with his Chuck-it and a terribly earnest expression on his face. He ran outside before anyone could catch him and hopped in the car. Fortunately, the Cavaliers don't share George's enthusiasm for the beach. I gave them a few treats and left them at home without too much guilt.

The kids wanted to check out the waves and I wanted to visit the LaPointe Indian cemetery. We had an hour to kill before our return ferry trip, just enough time to make everyone happy. The waves were impressive, the wind was howling and the cemetery was beautiful in its decay. Our afternoon felt like visiting an old friend, Madeline holds so many memories for all of us. Recounting our shared past experiences and planning our future visits to the pool, Grandpa Tony's or the Pub gives me a sense of place and immense gratitude for all we have been given.

Another Sunday, Another Waterfall

We have lived in Bayfield for four years and are still discovering the wild and untouched beauty of this place. My friend, Ellen, suggested an excursion to Lost Falls in Cornucopia. Spring walks appeal to me for a couple of reasons: no flying bugs, no vegetation to speak of which means no wild animals can jump out unexpectedly and eat me and waterfalls are glorious in the spring. The sight and sound of rushing water is an instant re-set button for my spirit.

I cherish our Sunday adventures. Taking a few hours away from cell phones, tv's and computers is a beautiful pause from the usual 'hurry scurry' cadence of our lives. As we walked through the woods, I felt a profound sense of gratitude. Gratitude for my beautiful family, the benevolent energy of the trees, the new life springing up all around us and the memories we are making. The Bayfield Peninsula is proving to be a remarkable backdrop for our family story.

A Corny Sunday

Sadie, Will, George and I took a little road trip on Sunday to visit Cornucopia, a sweet little town about 20 miles from Bayfield. There is a beautiful sandy beach, marina, a few shops and Siskiwit Falls. All in all, it was a lovely afternoon.