water and drywall

I went out to look at the lake this morning, but it was too cold.  The wind blows across the lake from the west to the east, from the Illinois side to the Michigan side, and where we are it rises up over the bluff and carries with it whatever it picked up along the way.  Yesterday it was crisp and cold.  This morning it was damp, too damp for me.  I hadn't had my coffee yet.

        
Everyone in my family knows that I smoke, but when I step out for a smoke I still sometimes say, I'm going out to look at the lake.  I like to look at the lake.  It's a noisy lake, and it's at its most beautiful in the winter.  At least I think so.    

All my family is here, my mom, my dad, my sister, her son, my brother, his wife, their baby.  We postponed Christmas until the new year.  So I'm here in Michigan to see my family and celebrate the holidays, but I'm also here to help my dad hang drywall in the basement.  We hauled four thousand pounds of drywall into the basement a couple days ago.  Then we went into town for onion rings.  

My brother's been helping us, too, but he's heading back to Chicago today—in fact, everyone is leaving today—and so, for the next couple days, it will be me and my dad, our two home-built drywall hoists, and an unfinished basement.  Sadly, the point of all this work is to help this house sell more quickly.  We've been coming to this house for long weekends and holidays for at least ten years now.  We love coming here. 

Okay, our breakfast is about ready.  I thought I would make a quick hello from Michigan.