Greetings from Menasha!

A summer night Up North

Left to right: Hari, Guru, Lindsey, Me, Adam, Vanessa, Joel

Last weekend, Adam and I went Up North to a lakeside cottage that our friend Lindsey's sister is renting for the summer. The cottage sits on a tree-dotted lawn that stretches down to the pier and Lake Winnebago. The little house was entirely charming, with a one-room kitchen and sitting area, a baby pink bathroom, one real bedroom, and a windowed sun-room acting as a second bedroom.

When we arrived, Lindsey and her sister Lori wasted no time in making us feel at home, offering snacks and drinks and playing a motley collection of records ranging from Dolly Parton to Annie. Their dad (also visiting for the day) was busy kneading his famous burgers (smoked mozzarella is the secret ingredient). 

Lori, Lindsey, their dad, & the smoked mozzarella

With other friends arriving any minute, we decided to kill time with a game of Bocce Ball. Lindsey won nearly every toss, and I lost every toss — that's not an exaggeration. Naturally, Adam came out somewhere in the middle. But he delighted us with his juggling skills — a Win in my book.

 
















When the whole crew was finally assembled, it was time to break out the jet skis. I've ridden a jet ski before, when I was little and visiting my grandparents in Florida. One time I was riding on the back of one with my dad when a pair of dolphins swam right alongside us. But the jet skiing in Menasha is seriously lacking in the cute water mammal arena, and instead gave me multiple wipeouts complete with giant grape-colored bruises.

Lori & Lindsey: Babes on a jet ski

Having had enough of scrapes and bumps and being wet (I'm a baby like that), I walked myself back to the house for some dry clothes. While gathering my things, I heard a small whimper from just outside the screen door; it was Matey, Lori's cockapoo. I asked her what she was crying about, sat down next to her on the lawn, and up she climbed right onto my lap. She sat there for the next twenty minutes. Between her warm, fuzzy body and the sun's setting rays, I was mighty comfy-cozy, even without dry clothes.

Just me and Matey

Once everyone joined me and Matey on dry land, there was grilling. Oh there was grilling! We ate a delicious dinner of (of course) Lindsey's dad's famous burgers, our friend Hari's special spicy chicken, and scrumptious bites of bison steak dripping with butter. The cottage was bursting with lively chatter, tastings of St Germain liqueur, the Grease soundtrack spinning on the record player — and then it was time for the fireworks. Our group stood in the road and Lori's husband set off one after another — big ones, illuminating the surrounding treetops and power lines. There's such a rush when you're that close to the crack!, swoosh!, and BOOM! of fireworks. 






































After a display that would make even Gandalf proud came the moment Lindsey and I had been waiting for all day...

...S'mores! What more does a girl need? (Based on these pics, a girl certainly doesn't need a photo-worthy hairdo!)

We crowded around a crackling fire burning in the Weber grill, roasting 'mallows,  telling spooky stories, and letting the warm flames lull us to Sleepy Town. Of course we all feared that, after hearing Hari's story about the Lazarus Reflex, we'd be on the express train to Nightmare City. But to my knowledge, we all slept like a bunch of babies. 

 
















The next morning: brunch in Appleton. We ate at Atlas Coffee Mill — a really tasty spot on the banks of the Fox River. It was a lovely day, so we sat on the patio under linen umbrellas with the river rushing by and a squadron of pelicans sunbathing in the shallows. About the time our vanilla chai lattes and cafe mochas arrived, an old man started playing the accordion — c'est si Européean! Add a killer breakfast burrito to the mix and voila: a perfect brunch.

In the last hours of our Up North jaunt, our group stopped back at the cottage and lounged on the grass, dreading the drive back to reality and the Monday morning to follow. Why can't we just play silly records, dine on superbly grilled meats, sit with puppies on our laps, and wake up to a cottage full of friends every day?