Scrabble

Thunderstorms continued to race through Presque Isle yesterday.  Between storms my friends Susan, John, Clare and Mike were out walking in the woods, and occasionally wading through shoe-soaking marshland.  The black flies are out in force, waiting for some luckless human to wander by and provide them lunch.  They chased Clare and Mike clean off the Huron shore!  For the uninitiated, black flies are an annual early-summer rite of passage in Northern Michigan.  God provides them as a reminder that certain fauna have been on the planet longer, and more successfully, than the story-telling bipeds.

John and I drove up to Rogers City at mid-afternoon to buy fish and pick up a couple items at Glen's Market in preparation for dinner.  The lady at Gautier and Spaulding Fisheries told us that the day's catch of whitefish was still being cleaned and we would have to wait.  Instead, John checked his e-mail at the library, we had a latte at the Painted Lady cafe, cruised through Glen's, and then bought our fish at G and S.

Dinner was a communal affair.  I had made gazpacho the day before, so it was well-chilled and ready to serve.  John and Susan provided the baked whitefish, and Clare made roasted potatoes and glazed carrots.  The women cooked while we men played with Jacob on the back porch.  Later on we had vanilla ice cream with either blueberries or Nutella for dessert, and a lactose-free frozen lime bar for Mike.

Dinner waits for the obligatory photograph.  Jacob is
pointing out the photographer (almost always with two fingers).

Jacob clearly enjoyed his gazpacho!

Whitefish is a wonderful summer treat, especially when
it's fresh off the boat.

Jacob tasted gazpacho for the first time and clearly enjoyed the experience!  That really warms a chef's heart!  The fish was perfect, and a reminder of how good whitefish is when only six hours earlier it was swimming in Lake Huron.

After Jacob had his bath and was happily in bed (he's been sleeping like a rock) Clan Feeney broke out the equipment for Francophone Scrabble.  Mike, John, and Clare played, and Susan took the role of roving suggestion-maker.  Within the first couple plays Mike moved into the lead.  That is significant because although Mike is a linguist of considerable skill, being fluent in Spanish and Portuguese and conversing admirably in Arabic, he has never studied French.  Nevertheless, he speaks the language quite well.  And note that he was playing against John, who has taught French all his life, and Clare, who has her father's ear and head for languages.

Mike, John, and Clare make their initial moves.

Mike strums while John thinks, "What can I do with this Z?"

Clare and Susan debate a word...

...and then Susan give John a suggestion.

The game started well, with everyone chattering happily in French — and with Mike, between turns, singing songs sent by his brother to the accompaniment of his ukulele (a cunning way to rattle your competition, I think).  Susan declined to play, but offered help to the players.  At one point she suggested a word which Mike put on the board.  Alas, the spelling was medieval French, not contemporary French!  Mike's opponents raised an unholy objection (much sputtering in French, with appropriate gesticulation) and Mike lost his turn.  But not the game!  Mike won handily with 79 points to Clare's 69 and Professor John's paltry 54.  Ah, how the mighty have fallen!

The board at game's end.

We have a sunny day here today.  No rain is forecast until sometime tonight.  I was up early to take photos of the installation of the new statue of Keeper Patrick Garrity at Old Lighthouse Park.  The statue will be unveiled at a ceremony this Saturday Noon.  To keep people from seeing Mr. Garrity before then, we started promptly at 7:00 this morning, and had him bolted in place and shrouded a little after 9:00.  More on this in a subsequent post. •••