Against The Wind

We've been sitting at the docks in Menominee, Michigan, for five days under near gale force winds. They are coming from the north, northeast and have worked the bay into a frenzy. Three to six foot waves build before crashing into the breakwater and splashing over the wall into the marina. The boats are dancing a jig, especially Mystic on her face dock slip, tied off only on her starboard side. Nights are the worst because it's hard to see and the sounds of straining dock lines, halyards, and fenders seem to suggest we'll be swept away at any moment.

Video - Menominee Breakwater 

Memorial Beach Menominee, MI

Waves crashing

Video - Menominee Marina

Mystic dancing in her slip

Video - Breakwater light Menominee, MI

Menominee River breakwater walking path
Menominee, MI

The source of all this chaos is a group of low pressure cells to the south. It's like having a bunch of bullies taking turns at our vulnerabilities as they knock us around and cause us concern over our chances of survival. Being on board Mystic is uncomfortable. We have to be on high alert for unexpected motion, kinda like riding a bucking bronco.

I count 8 low pressure systems
Map from National Weather Service

Wind speeds of 20-30 mph
Map from Sailflow

The shore birds are having a heck of a time too. They must face the wind or risk having their feathers inverted. One exhausted cormorant took a breather on the breakwater ladder inside the marina, seeking shelter against the wind. Like the cormorant, we've been holed up, our heaters are running and the heating blanket is on high.

Cormorant hiding from the weather

Fall has arrived like a toddler's tantrum, howling and kicking! It's time to haul Mystic out. We'll take her south to High Seas Marina in Oconto once the bay calms down. Hopefully, we'll have a gentle final sail that helps us forget the last five days. 

Winter House Project

January 2026 we were ready to start our winter house project, The Great Room Remodel. By March it would feel like we'd made it through the worst of winter, but that was after nine weeks of non-stop hard work seven days a week! Winter passed while we picked away at our project.

Our great room is an 20 x 24 open space that is a combination of living room and dining area. The update includes repair of wainscoting with fresh wall, ceiling, steps and trim paint. We also replaced the stair tread runner with a Victorian pattern in shades of grey. Our walls were switched from wheat to sage, complimented with ultra white wainscoting and trim. Our stairs were painted white, with white trim, white banister, and spindles. The black stair treads make a stark contrast. We added black slate tile at the bottom of the stairs in front of our entryway to account for muddy shoes. The color combinations look fabulous and compliment our brown leather couches and wood furniture, as well as our 100+ year old original pine floors.

White stairs and rails with black treads

Black slate entryway 

Victorian grey runner

Runner next to tile

The pine floors were the catalyst to taking on this project. Some 25 years ago, we'd uncovered 5 flooring layers to expose the original pine. Once removed, we discovered there was no sub floor between them and the framing. In addition, the pine boards were no longer snug tight. Instead they had substantial cracks between them which required vacuuming often. The current goal was to remove the flooring, clean it up then plane it before re-laying it. The clean up included removing the old tongue and groove along with any bad spots. Dave routed new tongue and groove before reinstalling. It was very labor intensive and time consuming work but the end result is beautiful. Most boards still have square nail holes and blemishes from years of existing in a high traffic area of our home. They look their age which is exactly what we want!

Two sections completed, 3.5 to go

Ramps allowed crossing the new floors

Raised ramp to the basement steps

Due to the cleanup process of the wood flooring, we didn't have enough boards to complete the restoration. We stopped by Traditional Woodworking in Somerset, Wisconsin and found just what we needed, beautiful 100 year old reclaimed pine tongue and groove that matched our original flooring nicely. Traditional Woodworking is a great place to look for vintage products for historic homes and the owner, Russ, is wonderful to work with.

We'd hoped to finish this project before heading south in March, however the amount of work that the floors required made that goal unrealistic. Progress was slow due to moving furniture in order to pull up small sections at a time. We realized, quickly, that there was no need to rush. Eventually we'll complete the project and, I'm certain, be happy with our efforts!

Northern Lights

We were blessed with an evening of glorious Aurora Borealis this month. It wasn't the first time we'd witnessed this amazing natural phenomena, but it sure was the best we'd seen this far south in central Minnesota. The incredible light show was visible in Connecticut, Florida, and all over the southern United States. It was spectacular!

My first encounter with a glowing sky was in the 1990s. I was working nights and saw a red light in the distance on my drive home. I thought it was a police event and woke Dave to tell him all about it. From my description, he was certain that I had seen Northern lights. 

We were lucky to witness the Aurora when we had a slip at Knife River Marina, north of Duluth, MN. That viewing was very active with green and white colors that pulsed and danced across the northern sky. We sat on the rocks at the beach and watched, unable to take our eyes away. 

We happened to be in White Bear Lake visiting our friends Scott and Mary, during the most recent explosion! Mary received a bunch of notifications on her phone. Her daughter was sending cell phone images of the sky at her home nearby; glorious images of Northern Lights that streamed from one end to the other. We went outside and were rewarded with vibrant colors of red, purple, green and white. The streets were dotted with neighbors all holding their phones up and whispering in excitement as the colors and movement constantly changed! 

On our way home, we stopped at Otto Berg Park, on the north end of Stillwater, where it was dark with very little ambient light. The parking lot was buzzing with cars and folks were walking into the pitch black park to get a better view. It seemed like the entire town woke up and came out to share in nature's beautiful gift. Dave and I laid down in the grass and enjoyed the show until the wind and chill chased us back to the warmth of our car.

Northern Lights are magnetic, in origin as well as in attraction. They rate up there with meteor showers and phosphorescents. We never tire of viewing the natural expressions of beauty that they deliver. This particular show was special because it was visible with the naked eye all over the United States.

Memories Bring Back You

The bulletin board in my kitchen is covered with photos of loved ones who have passed. The photos remind me of happy times, sweet memories and the old adage, You Only Live Once! There's a lot of living on my collage.

Tucked in amongst the array is a cherished photo of me with my mom aboard our Alberg 34, s/v Mystic. Mom visited us when we were docked in Westerly, Rhode Island. I never expected that she'd come aboard as she wasn't comfortable on the water. This small gesture of interest in my life stands out for me. During this time, she was struggling with health issues. I wonder if memory loss allowed her to forget her fear.

Mom slipped away last April. She was ready to wrap things up and join all her friends that were waiting at heaven's door; even if we were not. Life goes on, as it should. Things have changed due to her absence but I feel her presence and hear her voice often, especially when I need it most. A couple months after her death, my sister sent me one of Mom's old voice messages that she'd saved. I gasped when I heard mom say, "I'm still here!"

I am reminded, often daily, that my mother is no longer with us, but I see and feel her everywhere. I was making my bed when I realized that every bed in my house has a beautiful hand made afghan that was meticulously crocheted by my mother. I look at her perfectly uniform stitches and remember watching her hands as she created these heirloom works of art. I am quickly consumed with a flood of other memories that make me sad before they fill me with joy and warm me with the sense of her love for her family. I still feel that love!

I find myself doing silly things that make me feel closer to her, like adding a splash of Fabulosa to my laundry. It's like I'm proving that she taught me well and that I was a good learner. Her influence is everywhere.

I had a routine of calling my mom every day at around the same time. For a long time after she passed, I was heartbroken to walk face first into the reality that she was not there to pick up the phone. It's not that I forgot that she was gone. It's more that I desperately wanted her to always be there, my greatest fan, my sounding board where I could say anything without judgement; she was my safe place.

I've come to realize that feelings of grief and love are similar, except grief includes the added complication of loss. Over this past year, my grief has evolved from debilitating pain into a trigger that leads me to happy thoughts of her, like the day she visited our boat.

My grief can be overwhelming, but it comes with wonderful and funny memories that bring her back to me. When I am overcome with sadness I hear my mom's voice telling me, "Don't be sad, I'm just acting my age!" In her own way, she tried to tell me that dieing is a part of life. 

I've come to accept grief. It still hurts that she is gone but I smile when I think of her. Memories of her are sweet and remind me of how lucky I am to have had her at all.

Mom aboard Mystic

My Mother's Final Journey

Jacklyn May Chapman Dailey
June 12, 1939 - April 8, 2024

I called her mom, or Nonnie, or sometimes Nonnie-Noodles. Each name was an endearment for the person who brought me into this world. I was her 3rd child in three years. She was tired when I came along. She never let me forget that she gained 60 pounds over the 9 months she carried me. 

I was a clumsy, chubby child but she said I was just big boned and when I fell down she called me Graceful Gladys or Grace for short. She'd say, "pick yourself up and dust yourself off", then she'd send me on my way as though nothing had ever happened. She taught me to get back up.

I have vivid memories of her taking my tiny toddler hand as we walked down a long series of metal steps that led to the beach we visited each summer day. I was afraid of heights and begged her to carry me but she insisted that I could do it myself if only I held her hand in mine.

One of the books that she read to us when we were little was I love you Forever by Robert Munsch. She'd line us kids up on the couch beside her, and read to us as we listened intently. When I became a mom, I read this book to my own children and found myself singing, rather than reading, the refrain, "I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be". At first I didn't know where my sing-song way of reading these words came from. But the memory of her voice drifted in from the past and I shared it with my own children in the same way it was shared with me, as a melody.

My mother was a simple person born into the silent generation. She put everyone else's needs in front of her own. As a homemaker, she supported her family in all our endeavors. She filled her free time with tea, her children and friends, and yarn. She crocheted beautiful granny square blankets with perfectly consistent stitches and gave away everything she ever made. With little extra money available, she sewed many of our clothes. She followed us to our sports events, welcomed our friends into our home and taught us right from wrong in her own simple terms. 

She shared worldly philosophy with us, like, "everyone is pink on the inside". She expressed compassion for the underdog, and passed on this trait to her children and grandchildren. She never forgot her humble beginnings as one of 15 siblings and understood that wealth was not measured by your wallet. She always looked at the bright side and almost never held a grudge. When someone didn't approve of her she'd say, "They'll get over it!"

My mother didn't put on airs or compete for attention or favors. She was a take it or leave it kind of gal. She saw the good in most everyone but saw through those who carried evil in their hearts. She taught us to be careful what we wished for; and pointed out that things can always be worse, so we should count our blessings even when times got tough. When we did something stupid she'd ask, "Did you learn something?" She downplayed all of our challenges and insisted that everything would work out in the end as long as our intentions were good and we didn't give up. She reminded us often that she wasn't born yesterday, and helped us work through inconsequential choices by pointing out the answer was six of one, half dozen of the other.  In essence, she taught us everything we needed to know. 

Nonnie lived by the rules of common sense and the belief that if the good Lord is willing and the creek don't rise, she would see you again. She insisted that if we didn't have anything nice to say, we shouldn't say anything at all. When dementia stole her ability to carry a conversation, I could always count on a quick response from her like, "Well that's the important thing, or "If it's not one thing, it's another."

My mother signed every card she sent with "Love Always Mom" or "Love Always Nonnie", and she ended our phone conversations with "I love you more!" As she aged, she slowed down a little each year. Her health was never great but she forged on with courage and determination after each setback. At times, she'd get confused and have trouble with balance, but she knew that I would catch her when she stumbled if she let me hold her hand in mine. 

Mom lived with my younger sister, her fourth child, for the last years of her life. She was a part of everything our family did. All of our friends and our children's friends, coworkers, coaches, neighbors, everyone called her Nonnie. I'm not even certain they knew her name was Jackie. She was just Nonnie to all.

My mother outlived all of her closest friends. She sat quietly beside each one as they worked their way through the end of life process. Our 92 year old uncle passed away in November. He had become mom's best friend. Mom called to let me know that he was in hospice. When I responded with great sadness she said "Don't you be sad, he's just acting his age." There was no one left to hold Mom's hand, outside of our family when her time came, but there were a whole lot of loving arms waiting for her arrival in heaven.

I cannot fathom a world without her in it but I cherish and will follow the lessons she burned into me like tattoos on my soul. I am a product of my memories and experiences that started with and always come back to her. As she leaned toward eternity I sang to her these words by Robert Munsch; I love you forever, I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living my mommy you'll be.

My mom left us on April 8, 2024 while the moon and the sun came together to wow the world with a moment of darkness followed by the return of light during a total solar eclipse. She slipped away without fanfare or fuss, in her own quiet way. 

Nonnie aboard S/V Mystic 2021

The New Girl

In 2012, our son adopted a pup from the pound. She was a mutt that looked like a pincher with big floppy beagle ears. He named her Jess and when I asked him why, he said, "Because she's the new girl", like the TV show with the same name.

David with Jess

We didn't really want a dog but our son needed her. She quickly became his best friend and wiggled herself into our lives with her sweet disposition. We took her on long walks where she dragged us along with  exuberance. Eventually we bought her a chest harness in order to have a better chance at keeping up with her. She was naughty on the leash, lunging at humans and other dogs that we passed. Jess was very food motivated so I learned to carry treats to distract her. Soon all the neighborhood dogs knew me as the treat lady and would stop and sit politely for a chance at a snack.

Jess curled up with Beth

Jess lived in our home for six years until our son bought a house a few blocks away. We visited often and I made sure her treat drawer was stocked. She had her own fenced backyard so the walks were replaced with romps in the grass. 

Recently, Jess moved back in with us while our son prepared his home to be sold. She slid right back into her old routine of cuddling in our bed and following our heels closely all day long. After a few days I noticed that something wasn't quite right. It was -20 degrees outside but she would squat for a full minute or more during potty time. I checked her pee to find that it was pink indicating blood in her urine. Thinking she had a UTI, we made a vet appointment but her condition declined quickly. We took her to a emergency vet who knew right away that things were more serious. 

We were devastated to learn that Jess was beyond care. Instead of a treatable infection, she had cancer. There was little that could be done to improve her condition. What she needed was compassion. Our son made the decision to help Jess move from pain to peace. It was the right thing but it hurt like hell.

Heaven has a new girl now. I imagine Jess exploring her new world, with her nose to the ground, collecting all those wonderful smells that she hunted on our walks. 

Gentle Jess

We miss her so much, but we know that our grief is the price of having loved and been loved by the purest soul. Our life was made so much better for having her in our family for her lifetime. 

You were a good girl Jess! We'll never forget you!

Jess in her favorite spot

The Last Chapter

Christmas is upon us and 2023 is coming to an end. Each December we get lost in the hustle and bustle of the holidays, then suddenly it's January of a new year. December is the last chapter, the epilogue.

We wrap up the previous twelve months with holiday festivities, spend more money than we planned and stress about that more than we hoped. But, somehow, in all the chaos, we begin to plan for the new year to be better than the last. As we turn the final page of 2023 we resolve to let go of what has passed and engage in what is to come, optimistic and excited to begin painting our clean slate. Somehow, the first chapter is filled hope.

Happy New Year 2024

Remembering Avery May

On Thanksgiving, we decorate our Christmas tree with lights then hang sailboats and lighthouses, mini cross-stitch projects and special trinkets that we collected over the years. We have one handmade ornament that has hung on our tree each year since 2019. It was made from salt dough cut into a butterfly shape then stamped in pink and purple pastel. On the back it reads: Avery May 2019

I made several of these delicate ornaments after our beautiful great-niece, Avery May Silva, passed away at two years and four months of age. She was born with Epidermolysis Bullosa, a rare and deadly genetic skin disease with no cure. Children born with this disease are referred to as Butterfly Babies because their skin is as fragile as the wings of a butterfly. Avery’s short life was difficult, but she was surrounded by love and she is missed tremendously.

The holidays can be heart-wrenching for anyone who has lost a loved one. We try to find ways to include those we’ve loved and lost into our celebrations. Sometimes their memory brings us warm fuzzies, and other times they make us cry. Our tears are the price of having loved and been loved by someone special. 

We think of Avery often throughout the year. She was a special little girl who lived her life as large as she could. We will never forget her gorgeous big blue eyes, her courage and the sound of her squeals of laughter. Somehow, in spite of her condition, Avery found and shared joy!

Happy Holidays in Heaven sweet baby girl!

Caution - Kildeer Parking

I got a text from our dock friends Kathy and Ric the other day. They wanted me to know that they found three baby kildeer in the parking lot at Nestegg Marina. When we left the boat 10 days ago there were three eggs and a mama who guarded that nest with a vengeance! The eggs were surprisingly large compared to the adult kildeer! It seemed like a silly place to make a nest but those eggs were perfectly camouflaged amongst the pebbles. We had to look closely to find them each time we checked on their progress.

Kathy was so excited that those eggs survived the parking lot. She said she was convinced that they only made it because we blocked off the area so no one would run over the nest.

We were not there to see the results of our efforts but our hearts are filled with joy that these cute little birds have a chance at life now. Isn't that what we all wish for, a fighting chance! It never hurts to have a little help from our friends.

Look closely for the newly hatched kildeer

Dory The Reluctant Boat Kitty

We started thinking about taking our cat, Dory, aboard Mystic after seeing how stressed she got being left behind. She is very attached to us. We had been leaving her with our son while we were away. That didn't go well since he also had a kitty. Dory is pretty good with other pets but Eleanor was very territorial. She would sit in Dory's litter box and glare at her with an attitude that suggested, "What are you gonna do about it?"

Dory watched us pack our truck for the long drive to Marinette Wisconsin. She knows what it means when we start throwing things in bags. This time, we had her pet carrier ready to stuff her in. She was not thrilled with this change in routine and let us know about it, but she settled in nicely for the long ride.

When we got her aboard Mystic and opened the carrier to let her out, she stayed put. Every little creak and every sway of the hull created a physical reaction of fear from her. She was not impressed one bit with her new digs. She eventually took over the v-birth section of the boat and protested loudly and with the exclamation point of her claws if we tried to pick her up or move her. She did not want to be anywhere else in the boat. We finally coaxed her out with treats but she quickly retreated back to her safe spot as soon as they were gone.

Dory, the reluctant boat kitty

We quickly realized that our girl was not going to adapt to 350 square ft when she was accustomed to 2200. She was scared and depressed and confused by all the new sounds and smells. Several folks on our dock have dogs that like to come visit Mystic without notice. Dory stared at them from the floor with no malice but definitely ready to fight for her space should she need to.

We disrupted our plans and made a special trip home to get her back to her land life. As soon as we opened her crate, Dory scurried out and began exploring all her favorite places. Her stature changed and her confidence returned. 

Dory is named after the colorful little fish in Finding Nemo. My uncle saved her from a feral life outside. We adopted her at one week old, unsure if she'd even survive, but she just kept swimming, swimming, swimming from kitten milk bottles to queen of our home. Her life has been spent inside, sheltered from harm. She doesn't know much about the rest of the world so it's not a surprise that her visit aboard Mystic didn't go well. We learned that Dory is not a boat kitty. She is the Mistress of our land home, Dory the land lubber kitty!

A big stretch on the French Door

Waiting for dinner