It Isn't The Same

We checked out and started on our way to Munising and Escanaba. Durwood knew to take the state highway, much more scenic. We hadn't gone ten miles before we had to stop to take lake and beach pictures. At one stop was a state biologist planting beach grass to stop erosion. We talked to him for a few minutes about ecology and the lakes, very interesting. A little further on we stopped to take another beach picture only to find an old old carving of a face on a rock cliff made by an explorer. That's where I took off my shoes and socks to walk in the not-as-cold-as-I-though Lake Superior. (spent the rest of the day with sand in my socks and shoes--comfy) We stopped in Christmas, wrote our first and only postcards (and I meant to send them, I really did). Durwood thinks they'll take the place of Xmas cards because of the postmark. Dreamer. In Munising we saw a pasty shop, meaning to stop there after we'd toured around a bit, but when we stopped at the boat tour place we found out that there was a 1 PM sailing, the only one all day, so we zoomed back, got pasties (Durwood got beef, mine's veggie--broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, onions, potatoes, rutabagas) and got back there so we could board. It was superbly great to be out on the lake. It was sunny and nearly 70 degrees. There were over 40 passengers, one couple from Thailand, and the rest weren't all retirees, well, not old retirees, what's starting to look like normal people to me. You know, people in their early 60s. Normal. Anyway, the boat was glass-bottomed so we got to go over 3 of the shipwrecks in Munising harbor. Durwood and I rode on the bow and it was great. They took us by a tree with 2 eagles in it, showed us the old lighthouse on Grand Island, and then to the wrecks. They divied us up into Group 1 and Group 2 because they were actually over capacity (not dangerously) so we got to stand by the window wells and they moved the boat over slowly and the guide narrated. I realized by the second wreck that I was leaning down into the well to get closer. Spoiled by scuba. It wasn't the same but still very enjoyable. We saw a couple fish too, but the big deal for me was just being on the water in a boat for 2 hours. I got splashed with spray a few times and my bum got wet when the splash collected on the seat, no big deal. It was a fun and exhilarating way to spend the afternoon. Worth every penny of the sixty bucks it cost. (Made me glad we skipped all the smaller attractions so we had the $$ to do that one.) After the boat trip we drove on through Chassell and Trenary (where they make the Toast) and into Escanaba for our final night in the UP.

October 7--Berthe Morisot, Young Woman Seated on a Sofa. She feels revealed, almost nude, as she sits there posing. "Cecile, stop frowning. Do you want me to paint you frowning?" Berthe says, laughing. She looks so beautiful in her painting clothes, so carefree and tousled. Cecile thinks she always looks too deliberate, too concerned with what her Maman would think of what she wears or does. "You're frowning again." Berthe never thinks of what her mother would say, of that Cecile is certain. She just is and the rest of the world can go please itself. Cecile means to be more like the painter. That is why she chose this particular dress to be painted in. It has a too low neckline so her pale breasts quiver and nearly emerge when she breathes and the sleeves are so sheer they might as well not be there. Cecile feels pleasantly scandalous and, with her red-gold curls piled on top of her head, she relishes the feeling of the breeze on her neck.

And now it's time to get dressed and packed up one more time. We're on our way to an art studio in Shawano and then home--to laundry and normal life. *sigh* It's been a great week.
--Barbara