This morning Mark and I walked from our cottage at Stony Lake to the Cottage Cafe. Armed with mugs of coffee, we sat outside. Mark opened up the laptop to communicate with Chicago while I communed with the world according to Stony Lake. I chatted with Mary Chandler, local doyenne, property owner (my Bob rents a cottage from her) and banjo player with the Marek Music Makers. Also at our table was Jack Jonker, musician, entrepreneur and proud owner of a litter of puppies. Two hours floated by. No problems or perils of the outside world intervened. Nope, we're mesmerized by this almost off the map little sliver of paradise.
Of course, I was reminded that "Time shouldn't fly; it should float."
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