In Between Days (Go see some art!)

The significant other of a friend of mine has some of her paintings on display at the Overture Center. Her exhibit is called "In Between Days" and is in the Rotunda Gallery. Learn more about her work at her website and head down to the OC for some fine art.

Sunday morning coming down

As expected, I awoke on Sunday before anyone else so I set about lighting a fire and getting a percolator primed and ready. It was another gorgeous morning. I felt thankful that the mosquitos hadn't put in much of an appearance and that the rain had held off. We were truly lucky on those counts.

My friends slowly awakened and joined me by the fire. Ere long we witnessed the percolating of a second fully armed and operational coffee pot. Tents were taken down between cups of coffee and a copious servings of bacon that were fried using a schwenker that one of my friends had inherited from a family member. The griddle has a raised rim and so it can hold a goodly amount of liquid fat.

The newest amongst us had brought their hound and he was tired from all the attention he had received the past couple days.

After breaking my fast I took one last stroll down the road to the boat landing to bid the Black River farewell until next year.

I wasn't ready to leave. If only we could have had a couple more days - of fellowship & laughter, of the peace & calm of the forest. The weekend had been restorative for me. On the drive home I felt stronger, more resilient to the slings and arrows of my outrageous ex-wife. I felt like I belonged, like I was part of a web of friendships.

Though I must admit that I was looking forward to getting home first to Willow and then my ladyfriend.

I wish we would do this more often.

Now with flag!

My ladyfriend and I ate at El Pollo Rumbero last night with a friend of mine. It makes me happy that she is getting along with my friends.

The roasted chicken there makes me happy too. Now with flag!

Trees Bring Counsel

I awoke Saturday morning and looked up through the top of the tent where there was no rain fly to see the dawn light. Pausing a moment to prick up my ears, I was rather surprised to not hear any snoring drowning out the birdsong.

Another day in a sylvan paradise!

The path to the spot I've been using to relieve myself had a gentle golden glow as the sunlight filtered through the trees. The big man was illuminating my path or so I liked to think.

My bladder empty, I retrieved some iced coffee from my cooler to tide me over until later when there would theoretically be hot coffee available. I am normally the first person up when camping and it eludes me how my friends are able to sleep so long. I thought old people slept less. Must be the fresh country air.

Some people were planning on canoeing or kayaking this day. No doubt there'd be some fishing thrown in. Others were going to spend a leisurely day in and around camp. If yesterday's highlight was fellowship then this morning was to be all about Waldeinsamkeit as my plan was to take a hike in the Black River Forest.

There are two sets of trails in the forest and I recall hiking the Wildcat Trails because I remember encountering the sign for the Norway Pine segment and then later being exhausted because it's rated difficult. And now every year I go, I have to try to recall if I've done the Smrekar Trails or not. Of course I've done them. Multiple times, in fact. So I'm not sure why I do all these mental calculations and struggle to recall the last time I hiked this or that trail. The farm ruins are on the Smrekar Trail and I recall those well. Getting old can be no fun sometimes.

And so I set off for the Smrekar Trail with a second bottle of iced coffee at the ready.

I eschewed main roads and stuck to the back ones. This included several miles of gravel road that was able to accommodate only one car. Luckily I ran into no other vehicles on that stretch although I did see deer. Sadly, I was only able to get a fuzzy photo of deer butt.

The drive was pleasant and quiet. After 45 minutes or so I arrived at the trailhead. I immediately took care of some, er, business, ate a granola bar, and then I was off.

I didn't start too late so for at least the first half of the hike I was able to enjoy the sun accompanied by fairly cool temps.

I think that everyone who wanders the forest alone loses themselves in their own unique mess of thoughts.

For me it's always a mixture of things. My thoughts begin simply by admiring my surroundings. "What birds am I hearing?" "Ooh! That pine scent is wonderful!" "I hope there are no bears around here."

Eventually the mind wanders. My recently finalized divorce came to mind during the hike. I was glad it was over but couldn't help but do a post mortem on my marriage. I don't think it really did me any good as it was little more than self-flagellation. No new perspectives were unearthed and I still regretted marrying my ex. At that time I felt a lot of shame and embarrassment at having married her - a real blot on my escutcheon.

Now, as I write in August, some three months later, I feel much less embarrassment and less shame. But not that much less. Still, less nonetheless.

At one point I left the main trail to check out a scenic overlook and it was just beautiful.

By this point I was feeling good. The ascent up the ridge wasn't overly steep and the uphill march combined with the wonderful view conspired to induce exhilaration within me - physically and mentally. I felt attuned to my surroundings and open to the possibilities of life after my marriage. It felt good to be alive.

This area was really neat. The trees were more widely spaced allowing for a lush carpet of grass. Too many trees for a savanna but not dense enough for your typical forest. A heavily treed prairie? A lightly treed section of forest?

Walking down into this area just felt different. It was open but not too open. It felt expansive yet snug as well.

Here's a photo that I made sure had that Deakins-eque composition with the trail off to one side.

And another.

Another part of my life that I tossed around for a bit on my walk was my eldest stepson. My visit with him back in March, which I haven't gotten round to writing about, ended poorly. What to do?

This pine stand made for a nice, cozy passage.

I had discovered that, although he had grown into a 30 year-old man, he still had the maturity he did when he was 15. This made me feel very sad and I felt that way as I walked through the woods thinking about him. It is my sincerest hope that he matures into a true man someday and I would love to help him on that journey. While the odds are slim that I will have such a role in his life, I won't say never.

Despite this, I have a lot of empathy for him. Let's just say that his parents did not do right by him. 

If I came to any grandiose conclusions or had any revelatory moments out on the trails that day it was that I should let my relationship with my eldest stepson lie. He showed no interest in changing and I cannot force him to so it's best to just let things cool off and see what opportunities present themselves in the future.

There were moments when I was deep in thought and then was shaken from my pondering by a startled deer a little ahead of me or by a moth. Or is that a flutterby butterfly? The hike was a great mix of introspection and being in awe of nature and its beauty.

By the time I got back to the car my legs were getting sore. My hike was 7-8 miles which is a long way for an office jockey like me. Not only was I ready to relax but I it was also time for some company.

When I got back to camp it was only late morning so there was hot coffee on offer along with conversation with friends who were now awake. I made sure that the mini cherry pies that my ladyfriend had sent along were eaten. This did not take much effort as cherry pie and coffee is a classic combo with or without the Dale Cooper recommendation.

I spent the rest of the day close to camp along with the other folks who didn't get out on the river. A little reading here, some chatting there. And a short walk down the road. Come late afternoon a trio of friends who live in the area stopped by for dinner and conversation and this swelled our ranks to 13. The elk kielbasa I had brought went down well and I had a blast going from conversation to conversation amongst my 12 companions.

Some of them I'd known for only several months and others nearly 40 years. I don't know what I'd do without them all.

The company I choose

Back in May I slipped in a camping trip just before my parks sticker expired. Some friends and I have made a late spring camping trip up in the Black River State Forest an annual event, more or less. I get to see a couple folks whom I don't see often and this year we had a couple new people to boot.

This year I stopped in at Sand Creek Brewing for some suds before heading to my camp site. It turned out I was the first of my group to arrive at the campground. The day was simply lovely, sunny yet not too hot. And, more importantly, skeeters were few and far between. Would I even need to bust out the Deet?

It felt wonderful to be amongst the trees. The smell of spring was in the air and, as someone who lives near an airport, I cherished being serenaded by whippoorwills and all of the other birds that lent their voices to the avian chorus instead of airplanes. My divorce was a mere two weeks old and this was just what I needed to shake loose some of the anxiety and stress surrounding it.

On the other hand, I had adopted my new cat, Willow, only a week before and I felt a little guilty leaving her just as we were getting to know one another. Would she remember me when I returned home?

Before long my tent was pitched. With no rain in the forecast for the weekend, I let the rain fly remain in the bag.

As I was erecting my tent, my friends started to arrive. My campsite was a bit bigger than some of the others and, since I was the only resident, we chose it for our communal activities. Next came the all-important lighting of the fire.

Before darkness started to settle in and I was to commit to a seat around the fire, I went for a short walk. It was just gorgeous.

During my perambulations I received a text from my ladyfriend who was taking care of Willow in my absence. My new feline friend was enjoying her couch fort.

By the time evening rolled around, we had all found a place by the fire drinks in hand. We ate dinner and BS'd deep into the night. Most of us there gamed together so we nerded out a bit though conversation was all over the map. There was the occasional lull when we collectively became entranced by the flames and stared into the fire mesmerized. It was simply a joy to be surrounded by friends old & new as well as the woods.

When I'm with my friends, the Fish song "The Company" often comes to mind.

The company I choose is solidly singular

Totally trustworthy, straight and sincere

Polished, experienced, witty and charming

So why don't you push off, this company's my own

During my divorce it felt like they circled the wagons around me and being with them always made the stresses of the process seem that they had an end in sight, my (ex-)wife a memory that became ever more distant. For this I will be forever thankful.

Sitting around that fire I felt totally comfortable, fully myself. Nothing needed to be hidden, no mask needed to be worn.

With the sun having set, the creatures of the night got down to business and we heard the calls of coyotes, the hoots of owls. I wanted to turn to my Renfield and say "Listen to them, children of the night. What music they make!"

I wish we did this more often.

The way of nature and the way of grace. You don't have to choose which one you'll follow.

When the Zoom call ended, I clapped and yelled "Woo hoo!" Not missing a beat I then raced into the living room and kissed the photograph of Piper on my living room wall as emotions swelled within me. I'd waited ten and a half months for this.

********

I almost didn't get divorced this week.

Less than 24 hours before our allotted hour in court, I received word that my wife was going to delay the final hearing unless she received information about some trusts of which I am a beneficiary. She had no right to any of the money in the trusts and had been aware of this for some time. This was ridiculous and extremely frustrating.

She claimed that she was unaware of one of the trusts despite the fact that I had listed it in a filing that was sent to her and her lawyer and filed with the court last autumn. That filing also answered another of her questions. Why was she doing this? Her excuse was for "full disclosure" but the only answer I could come up with was that this was her last hurrah, her final chance to harass me and spew her contempt.

I answered the questions as best I could that night and sat by my inbox the next morning like an expectant father. An email bearing bad news appeared saying that she had asked her lawyer to file whatever it is you'd file with the court to delay the hearing. My wife's lawyer was apologetic for and incredulous of her client's behavior.

I met my neighbor outside shortly after this and chatted with him briefly. I told him that my divorce was not going as well as hoped and he said he'd pray for me. He must have done so right away because an email came shortly thereafter in favor of the efficacy of intercessory prayer: my wife had finally agreed to hold the hearing today. It was close - maybe only an hour and a half before our scheduled time.

********

The hearing began a bit late as my wife had issues logging into the call. The court representative made sure that all of the needed paperwork had been filed. That being done, our lawyers then played 20 questions with each of us. When my wife answered her questions, the video switched to her face in full screen and I noticed how much she looked like her father. She had little, if any, make-up on which was a change from the past several months that we lived together when she would apply it very liberally. With closure now within our grasps, the haggling and bickering over, she looked pretty again to me. Pretty in a way she hadn't for a few years. It was very odd how my feelings had changed on such short order.

With the questions done, the court representative said that everything was in order and pronounced us ex-husband and ex-wife. Then we all left the call.

Despite my joy and relief, I couldn't help feel sad that this was all it took. A 15-minute Zoom call to end one of the most important relationships of my life. My marriage had been reduced to a mere contract, a contract with terms about money and nothing more. It felt anti-climactic and a bit demeaning. Shouldn't there be more of a to-do?

********

Piper should have been here for this, the finalization of my divorce. My plan had been to come home from court or log off the Zoom call, hold her in my arms, and then hug & kiss her excessively before looking into her lovely feline eyes and telling her that it was over, that we had survived my now ex-wife. Liberal application of treats would have followed and dinner for her that night would have been tuna AND salmon. Or perhaps something even more fancy. Gluttony would have been the order of the evening.

But she wasn't around for the big moment so kissing her picture would just have to do.

On the one hand I was happy that my wife had become my ex-wife and that the legal process of divorce had concluded but on the other I was sad. I was sad due to Piper's absence but also because I felt like I had two decades plus of memories that no longer served a purpose. That and I didn't want them anymore.

While there are definitely memories of my time with my ex-wife that I want to keep with me to my end, the ones of my wife, especially of the last three and a half years or so can go. We organize our lives in stories and years of those memories were for her and me to tell our story to each other as well as the people in our lives as we grew old. But our story had come to an end.

I've told the stories to my friends and family, they need not be told to a lawyer any longer - not that they ever did - they've just outlived their usefulness. But I am stuck with them.

********

I thought about my dearly departed cat as I stood outside waiting for my ride. It was so lovely out with the trees soaking up the life-giving rays of the sun while I missed Piper more than words can say.

Dinner was to be steak. Next week my new ladyfriend and I are going out to The Tornado Room for a fancy meal to celebrate my divorce - she promised to buy me a steak when it was finally over - and so this was merely a practice run.

I also had a fine lager beer and a salad dressed with Thousand Island, my brother's favorite. Both he and Piper may be gone but they've never left me.

After dinner my lady and I went to visit Piper.

The park was lovely and green, although it was yet to reach its peak verdant glory. We made our way to the arch where I had scattered Piper's ashes and I fell to my knees. I touched the ground and said hello to her.

"It's over, Pipey," I told her. "We survived {ex-wife's name}. I love you, Pipe. I miss you."

She should have been alive to witness this but at least I have a place to go to be with her in spirit.

********

The next day my ladyfriend and I went out for a traditional Wisconsin Friday fish fry along with the woman who had officiated my wedding ceremony. The place was hoppin' and the staff were earning their keep. It didn't take us long to find a booth and soon we were seated with our drinks waiting on the arrival of the fried ocean goodness.

The woman had joined my ex-wife and me nearly 11 years ago. It was her hug, kiss, and words of encouragement just a week or so after I was served papers that let me know I was wanted, that life would get better. Her kindness gave me hope and set me on a better path.

None of us were angry at my ex-wife despite the ways she had exited all our lives. A little sadness, perhaps, but, in the main, we were celebrating new lives, new possibilities. I found that, with my marriage truly over and with the work I did in the woods a couple weeks ago to free myself of anger, I wished peace and happiness for my ex-wife. As our marriage spiraled downwards to divorce, I extended a lot of grace to her and I found that I was still willing to do so.

My friend was happy for me and it seemed a fitting bookend for the person who had created my union with my ex-wife to raise a toast to its end.

Afterglow 53

A few? several? months ago I heard? read? something by Louise Perry about a newer holiday. Or she was inveighing against newer holidays generally. Her gripe was that celebrations/commemorations of a more recent vintage have shallow roots, they don't have years of tradition behind them to bolster their potency by imbuing them with meanings honed through the ages and handed down to us moderns. It seemed a very silly complaint to lodge. I mean, traditions have to start somewhere; they weren't floating around in the ether waiting on human beings to grasp them; they were purposely created by people at some point to speak to the times in which they arose.

It seemed to be a case of chronological snobbery where new traditions were assumed to be inferior because...well, because. She didn't really offer an explanation and I felt her performance in the piece or podcast or whatever it was to be weak sauce in contrast to her usual thoughtful commentary. I think this was around the time she had converted to Christianity and so she was likely speaking with the zeal of the convert. New holidays, especially those that aren't Christian in nature, don't deserve our attention - their meanings and practices be damned. Age and Jebus are all the count. If her attitude had been more widespread back in the day, her beloved Christian holidays would never have gained traction. Imagine a 4th century Louise Perry arguing against this new-fangled Christmas holiday and instead lecturing people on the great virtues of Saturnalia.

This came to mind last Friday while I was driving north as it was Beltane. 1 May. While I'd rather have been standing around a bonfire marking the Wheel of the Year rather than sitting behind the Wheel of the Mazda, I at least had the consolation of meeting an old friend at the end of my journey. While I am unsure how Beltane celebrations today compare with those of ancient Celts, it really doesn't matter. The important thing is to enjoy all the flora you can as buds become leaves and the great outdoors simply becomes ever more verdant; to enjoy the warmer weather and prepare for planting as the last freeze date nears; and, if possible, linger near a fire. For me Beltane is the fulfillment of the promise of the vernal equinox. And a good excuse to send my friend in Milwaukee a card with a bunch of cats dancing around a bonfire.

In addition to defending Kwanzaa from Christianity, I listened to some podcasts (I'm looking at you here, Danièle Cybulskie) and thought about my divorce. My feelings on the end of my marriage were largely those of anger and I wanted to change that. But contemplating my divorce encompasses a lot more than just the process of ending marital bonds or doing the same old forensics on the decline of my marriage. Now questions like "How shall I prepare to grow old now that I am unmarried?" rear their heads.

I will be better prepared to tackle those types of questions at some point after my divorce is finalized.

It was late evening when I got to Osseo and I checked into my hotel first thing. It had apparently changed hands since I was last there and the new owners had done some remodeling. Some new paint, a completely reorganized lobby, and fancy new door locks with attendant card readers. The woman behind the counter showed me to my room - such service! - and demonstrated the use of the room cards as well as sensors for exterior doors that merely require the wave of a hand to unlock.

I asked her about all the changes and remarked that, despite them, the place still had that 1960's vibe, especially the ribbed concrete(?) walls. I also thought, but didn't say aloud, that it had retained the feel of a motel where guests are not allowed to have guests in their rooms, if you take my meaning.

She replied, "Yeah, it's not too different from when I spent my second wedding night here back in 1993."

Her remark seemed odd to me at first - who would honeymoon in Osseo? - but my mind was quickly gripped by the Baader-Meinhof effect which dictates that, once you are in throes of divorce, it seems like most people have been through it too or are, at least, having marital problems and seem to be heading towards separation. See! Even the hotel clerk has been divorced. No one stays together anymore.

Eventually I made it to my room where I was able to relax for a short time before my friend Jason texted to say he was on his way to Burly-N-Bucks. Sadly the Northwoods Brewpub, our usual meeting spot, was no more. While I grant you that their beer quality was inconsistent, I still have great affection for their Rowdy Rye, a mighty fine rye ale.

I arrived to find my friend conspicuously absent so I ordered a beer and waited. It wasn't long before he stepped in the door and the bartender greeted him by name. Apparently the kid played baseball and Jason was his coach at one time. My hug did not adequately express how good it was to finally see my old friend. Heading north to visit him followed by some hiking had been an annual vacation for me for a few years but I failed to make the trip last year. My life was occupied with a failing marriage, being served divorce papers, moving into an apartment, depression, and a desire to keep a day or two of vacation time in reserve for potential court appearances. It's not that any single one of these things kept me from making the trip but rather, in concert, they threw me into a mode of "I'll sneak the trip later in the year." and I could just never seem to sneak it in.

We caught up on one another's lives. His family was well and his daughter is to marry next year. Being in our 50s, we talked about health issues. An old classmate or two came into the conversation including one whose name we couldn't recall. I just remembered that he was always dressed to the nines and was gay. Jason and I both could picture a face but his name remained on the tips of our tongues. We also tossed around ideas for an off-anniversary class reunion. It was a mixed bag of topics. Oh, and baseball. Baseball is life for Jason.

About an hour in it occurred to me that one reason I enjoy his company so much is that he is genuine and doesn't hide behind a facade of irony and sarcasm. Not that he isn't ironic and sarcastic at times but he hasn't adopted these attitudes as a lifestyle unto themselves. In addition he hasn't become a grumpy old man. Not yet, anyway. He isn't angry and cynical like some of the people I know in my age cohort (I am thinking of my wife here, especially.); instead he is good-natured and gladsome. It must be all the clean country livin'.

Having him return to my life after an absence of decades has been wonderful.

At some point a hard day of coaching baseball caught up to Jason and getting up at 4, working, and then driving caught up with me. Before we parted he gave me some fine reading material.

For my part, I made sure he went home with the bag of treats from Fortune Favors that I had brought. I am responsible for his addiction to their candied pecans and I am unrepentant.

I slept well and was up at my usual time which was before I could get a good cup of coffee in town. The brown water from the coffeemaker in my room managed to stave off my cravings just long enough while I did some writing before I showered. A bit after 7 I was off. First stop: The Nickel Barn.

The Nickel Barn wasn't far away from the motel and I could taste the coffee goodness as I made the short drive just to the other side of the interstate. Stepping out of my car I was greeted by an orange cat.

Seeing him or her approach put a big smile on my face. What a great way to begin my day - with pets. I wandered inside where I got a large coffee and a couple souvenirs. Their shelves were a bit on the bare side but I suppose this wasn't surprising considering that it was not yet tourist season. Come Memorial Day weekend, they'll no doubt be fully stocked with bourbon barrel aged maple syrup, chocolates with animal scat names, et al for the visiting hordes from Chicago.

I wandered through the antiques outside the barn for probably the first time.

While there I was joined once more by the curious orange cat who was out to get more pets.

Alas, the time came for me to hit the road and bid a fond farewell to the feline.

I decided that I'd catch Highway 53 just west of Osseo and take it all the way up to New Auburn. Before becoming an expressway through Eau Claire, 53 is a lovely drive through the country at 55, though I prefer to driver more slowly and take in the scenery. For some reason I especially enjoy the stretch from Foster to Brackett as it engenders feelings of nostalgia within me despite the fact that I have no particular memories of that stretch of highway from when I lived in the area. There's just something about it that brings my high school days back with some force.

It is certainly pretty. On one side there are gorgeous rolling hills while trees hug the other. People's homes are tucked into clearings in the woods and an occasional abandoned farm house zips by in a blur as you drive along. This section encapsulates the variety of inhabitants and highlights the beauty of the area as well. Perhaps part of the reason it resonates with me so is because it's close to where I lived yet I don't really have any memories of it. And so it hasn't changed in my mind and thusly gives no hint of all the years that have passed. When I drive down Highway 93 I notice the changes that have occurred over the past 35+ years. But 53 seems almost frozen in time and in my mind it looks essentially like it did in 1988.

I drove through the Eau Claire area and ere long I was truly up north.

Friendship, fourfold

After work yesterday I went to visit Piper for it was her birthday.

It was a tad chilly and drizzle hung in the air but I don't think she minded in her new spectral form. I enjoyed being in her presence once again. I miss her dearly.

Despite the grey skies and the somber, reflective mood I was in yesterday, I had cause for celebration. A friend invited me to meet him at the Villa Tap for lunch. When I got there, I didn't see him at the bar but heard my name being called nonetheless. I scanned the room but couldn't see the source of the call until some arms moved. A former co-worker was at the bar but her head was in front of the window across from the entry so her face had been obscured in darkness.

It was good to see her as it had been several years. Also at the bar was another former co-worker. A mini-reunion! We chatted for a bit before my friend who had invited me showed up. We found seats at the corner of the bar and caught up on things. Ere long, another friend of ours and fellow Zupan walked in and joined us. I hadn't seen him in many years and I discovered that he is my neighbor.

What a treat! I went there expecting to see 1 friend and ended up seeing 4 people I know, most of whom I hadn't seen in ages. I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be dropping in at the Villa more often.

Song of the day:

Out on the town

On Friday night I met a friend at Genna's Cocktail Lounge, the venue being her choice. I could not recall the last time I was there. Walking inside memories of going there to see The Vibro Champs play upstairs back in the mid-90s rushed back.

It felt a bit odd to be surrounded by all the young folk who were my stepsons' ages and younger. Since the temperature outside was well above freezing, many women had their lithe, youthful bodies on display as they were clad in short shorts, mini skirts, crop tops - that kind of clothing. And the young men were jockeying for their favors.

At some point all of the other older folks had left leaving me and my companion to represent the over 30 (i.e. - 50) crowd. Ere long Boyce Johnson, drummer extraordinaire, came in and sat at the bar so we had some grey company for a spell.

My companion and I had a wonderful time. We talked about cats and music and friendship and divorce. She has given me some good advice in dealing with the end of my marriage, discussed her divorce openly, and been very supportive of me these past few months.

A Jethro Tull song came to mind.

Sit down as strangers will, let the stress unload.
Talk in confidential terms, share a dark unspoken fear.  

We made the clasp as I received one of the biggest hugs ever from her that night as she gave me her condolences for Piper's death. 

This was the first time I'd spent 3+ hours at a downtown bar in a very long time. I drove her home and hauled one of Piper's cat trees up to her place where two felines awaited. At first they eyed up this new structure from afar before cautiously approaching it. After some intense sniffing, they began applying their own scents to it.

I am glad it'll get some use instead of sitting around my apartment gathering dust and standing as a monument to loss. When I get a new cat, she'll get a new tree.

Divorce brings on many unexpected things.

Gifted

I was recently given this fine, capacious D&D themed mug by a friend of mine. I have yet to use it but suspect it will be overflowing with tasty beer ere long.

Why yes there is a 20-sided die embedded in it. 

Giving thanks

I am trying to inveigle my youngest stepson into making the rounds with me instead of staying at home - alone, presumably - but he's an obdurate %#@#*. Still, I love him anyway.

This Thanksgiving I feel genuinely thankful for the first time in a while. Or maybe it's more of an elevated level of appreciation.

Whatever the case, there are two people that have been so helpful and so kind to me these past several months, they've gone out of their ways and have been there for me in ways they probably don't even know. These people are helping me steer a new course in life and I am incredibly grateful.

While I cannot give their names or show you their faces, I can do so for the third (non-human) person in this trio of gratitude. This is, of course, Piper.

She cuddles with me when I go to sleep and gently taps me on the face in the morning signaling it's time for the human to prepare breakfast. Her presence brings me comfort and joy, keeps the loneliness at bay. She broke her fast on turkey this morning which surprised me as I wasn't convinced she'd go for it instead of the tuna.

Thanks to these people and others still, mirth is primary in my life instead of apprehension, anxiety, and sadness. Things truly do get better.

Civil Shrifting in the Cream City

Francis Bacon wrote:

A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and discharge of the fulness and swellings of the heart, which passions of all kinds do cause and induce. We know diseases of stoppings and suffocations are the most dangerous in the body; and it is not much otherwise in the mind; you may take sarza to open the liver, steel to open the spleen, flower of sulphur for the lungs, castareum for the brain; but no receipt openeth the heart but a true friend, to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and whatsoever lieth upon the heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift or confession.  

His words came to mind last weekend as I prepared to visit friends in Milwaukee. I wasn't going to have a lot of time there but I was determined to make the most of what I was allotted and that would include not only me imparting griefs, joys, etc. but also my friends doing the same. While I'd hoped to be able to see everyone I knew in the Cream City, a couple had to bow out due to a funeral out of town. Still, two thirds ain't bad.

It was a lovely, sunny Saturday afternoon when I got into Bay View. Traffic hadn't been bad and I made it to the home of a couple friends in good time. I found that they were waiting for me on their porch. One I've known since high school and her husband since they've been married. It had been a while since we'd seen one another so the hugs were generous and most welcome. They were experiencing their own trials and tribulations so we could commiserate.

After presenting them with their gifts - food from Madison, I was presented with a loaf of sourdough bread in embryo. It was rising. Leaving the dough to its own devices, we headed out to Seven Bridges Trail. It was a perfect afternoon for a walk.

While there were still some leaves hanging on until the bitter (cold) end, I suspect we had missed peak color by a couple weeks. That is, I had missed it. My friends had been here to witness Nature in its resplendent glory.

As we walked along, I got caught up on the vexations which plague them and I, in turn, told them of my divorce and my progress in creating a new life for myself. Many griefs, joys, fears, and hopes were exchanged. And then my friend told me that my wife had visited them back in August, a month or so after our divorce began. It did not go particularly well and I felt badly for them; I felt responsible despite not being so, not even knowing of the social call. Oh well. Hopefully there will not be a repeat.

The trail was gorgeous. My friends said that it had been sparsely populated on their last visit but this day it had people everywhere. It lies on the shores of Lake Michigan and had a rather nice beach which I bet is well used during the summer months. 

As we walked along the shoreline, my friend noted that we weren't too far from where the body of Sade Robinson had been found. The 19 year-old had been murdered by a sick fucker named Maxwell Anderson who also dismembered her body.

Despite the horrific tale, it was a relaxing walk and we got caught up on one another's lives. Ever since my divorce began I've been wanting to draw my friends close, to be deeply present and deeply in their presence, and to savor their company like a fine wine. This was a very nice start to the weekend.

The walk also had the effect of giving us all a thirst and so it was off to the newly-reopened St. Francis Brewery.

The brewery closed back in 2019 but had been resurrected this spring - how fitting. I adored their Lust, a Weissbier, back in 2015 and wondered if it was still available. 

I began with a Krug of their Festbier which was very tasty with a toothsome maltiness and just enough hops for balance. While supping and snacking our conversation on the trail continued on barstools. I gave them an idea of the location of my new abode and the details surrounding my hasty exit from the marital residence. In turn, I heard more about their situation and how difficult waiting for resolution was on them.

My second brew was their Hefeweizen, Held Up Hefe. It too was very tasty but had a lighter mouthfeel than Lust. New owners, new recipe, I suspect.

Evening had arrived and we set out to find dinner. We settled on the Vanguard Bar which had vegetarian options aplenty for my friends as well as carnivorous ones for me. On the way there, a couple other friends of mine texted saying that they had returned from the funeral early and were available to get together. Wunderbar! I replied that we were going to eat and that I'd let them know when we were done.

Stepping into the bar we found the place to be packed. We had a 20-minute or so wait for a table. The TV screens had Pink Floyd live from Saint Tropez in 1970 playing but it was Whitney Houston that emanated from the speakers.

I had a bratwurst with onion, sport peppers, and spicy kraut. My friends ordered fries, fried tofu with a ginger-garlic glaze, and a salad of some kind. Everything was delicious but the fried tofu was perhaps the star of the meal with its glazed umami overload.

And the beer was cheap. $6 for a pint of Spotted Cow. Other beers were equally affordable.

With dinner done, I text my friends that we were on our way to the Blackbird Bar which is the tavern of choice of basically everyone I know in Milwaukee. As with the Vanguard, the place was packed. The crowd here was younger, though, and I spied a couple women whose breasts threatened to spill out of their tops. The game was afoot!

We found a few seats at the end of the bar and continued chatting. After a short while, my other friends showed up. We'd not seen one another since May and so their hugs were most welcome. It was simply wonderful to be with all these friends whom I don't get to see often. Even more special than normal. I felt so comfortable and wanted. A couple of them had met before but that was back in 1991 during our college years at a Halloween party that lives on in infamy. They reacquainted themselves with ease.

All too soon our ages showed and we headed out for the comfort of a couch. I was staying at my friends' place and took up position on the love seat while they the couch. We listened to music, supped beers, and chatted away about everything. A wonderful time. They introduced me to the music of Ngozi Family, a Zambian band from the 1970s.

The next morning one of my friends was out the door early to teach her yoga class. For my part, I was to meet up with some other friends to hang out in a sauna before enjoying the cool waters of Lake Michigan at Hot Spell Sauna.

Before then, I hung out with my friends' cats. 

My other friend woke up and we hung out for a short while before I was picked up. I hadn't seen this friend or her husband in a while so I found myself full of joy at being in the company of the remaining folks I know in Milwaukee. My friend has been enjoying the sauna for a while and I couldn't turn down her invitation to join her even if it was only just above the freezing mark outside.

The morning was sunny and clear, if cold, as we pulled into McKinley Marina which the sauna called home. My friend's husband had never been there and I took comfort in not being the only person for whom this was the first time.

A couple portable saunas were set up on the lakeshore next to the boat launch. The idea was that you would spend some time in the heat and then zip down the ramp and into into the lake.

We went into the sauna and I think we all started sweating immediately in the 200+ degree heat. But it felt good. The occasional dose of water on the coals got my nose burning even more as the steam entered my nostrils.

Sitting in the steamy heat, the three of us chatted about life - divorce and kids, for example - for a spell and then it was time to get into the water. We wandered around the fence and made our way down the boat ramp. The second my feet hit the water a shiver went up my legs and I could feel, as George Costanza said, shrinkage. It was freezing!

We waded in deeper. It didn't take long for my legs to go numb. No fancy neoprene accoutrements here; just a swimming trunks and Crocs. I was able to make it in about navel high before retreating. Once out of the water, I felt very good despite the sub 40 degree temps and a moderate wind as I didn't feel the wind's chill; rather it was a revivifying briskness. 

This hot and cold pattern was repeated throughout our 75 minute session. It was absolutely exhilarating!

Afterwards I was invited back to my friend's place for breakfast and more banter. I got to see her kids who had grown quite a bit since I'd last seen them. In addition, I was treated to some highly tasty Anodyne coffee from Sprocket Cafe. And I met their über-friendly hound, Izzy. Look at dem ears! 

All too soon it was time to go and I got dropped off at my other friends' place where I found them relaxing on the couch with the Packers game on the TV. I headed home after the game had finished and we had chatted away even more.

I made it home with a lovely loaf of sourdough in tow.

But also a couple paintings done by my friend that he generously gave to me to decorate the walls of my new place.

What a glorious weekend! I got to see, hug, and chat with every one of my friends in Milwaukee (they are all denizens of Bay View, curiously enough). It was great to be in their company when talking instead of having conversations mediated by a phone. Their hugs were wonderful and just being with them was so invigorating, so needed. In addition to discharging the swellings of the heart, simply being in their presence put me at ease and made my cares seem far away. I am very lucky to have them in my life.