At the Senior Center at Lake Tomahawk

 

Our lunches include a carton of milk.

This little message is on each one.

"About 85% of this carton is paper. Paper is renewable and we have more trees in the US now than we did 50 years ago."

Now doesn't that just make you feel...what? Confused? I was. Trees being planted since 1974 (50 years ago) may have some bearing on how many are going to paper pulp in making cartons of milk. But hey, why aren't they just using recycled paper instead of new paper to make these silly cartons?

Or is it because someone thinks it would sound unsanitary to have reused paper in the making of milk cartons? And how about recycling the cartons themselves? Is that even possible?

And on Wed. before lunch Carol takes us through sit and be fit...which ends up standing and marching! Whew!

These interesting patterns show the cover over the swimming pool, right outside the door of our "dining room" where we meet for lunches M-F. It's only open during summer months, and often has ice on top of the cover where rain accumulates.

While February offers some sunny days (like this one) there are also free books in the "Little Free Library" at Lake Tomahawk.

And right next to it is a little Free Library for Children! Food for the soul!

From snow and ice on a drained lake to...

muddy water from spring rains. Wonder when the dam construction will begin!

Today's quote:

There will always be factors and people that we cannot control; how we respond can determine the quality of our lives.

Today's quote:

Come, live in my heart and pay no rent. -Samuel Lover, songwriter, composer, novelist, and artist (1797-1868)

Time off

 

Won't be at lunch this week at the Lakeview Center. Working on healing a cold. May be scattering on posting or reading blog posts.

Thanks, Bansky!

Lake Tomahawk wild-life (and not so wild-life)

 There were some Swallowtail butterflies enjoying the minerals in the gravel.

 A little boy pointed out the baby turtle on the stick.

 After seeing mamma Swift tweeting away, I knew there had to be a nest under the balcony. It's in a different place this year, but there were some little heads with white cheek-stripes peeking out.

 And oblivious to all those wild creatures, upstairs there was a senior exercise class going full swing!

When it was over the Spanish class started, and most of us have lunch while conjugating verbs and looking up the right ones. We supposedly are a conversation class, but we still are mostly just on vocabulary.  Each week we take home 2 words, and then form sentences using them, then share the sentences to see if anyone can understand them. It's a lot of fun!

Summer camp last day (Last Friday)

The kids all flock toward the pool for their last swim for this camping period.

Someone is actually painting all the railing and steps by hand, with brushes!

Virginia Creeper decided that it was time to don her fall finery already!

The salad pot luck

 The small container has my blueberries contribution...easy to make!

 Friends Don and Mary were sitting at our table.  There was a good size crowd.

The senior center had a pot luck of salads on Friday. Everyone contributed something. My neighbor and friend, Virginia and I sat together. Since her use of a walker makes it difficult to load up a plate, I brought her a dish with a sampling of everything. She ate it all too.

Lakeview at noon on Mon.

There was one or maybe two camp busses or vans in the parking lot. So all those campers had come to swim for a while.

I get a bit more exercise since the pool opens to the public at 11, and my lunch isn't until 12. So I have to park further away since all the close parking is taken by the pool visitors now.

I may feel the sun's heat just before noon as I walk about 1/3 of the way around the lake, but these people were actually playing tennis that day!

Today's Quote: Actually from July 22!

Happy birthday to Emma Lazarus, poet and playwright (22 Jul 1849-1887) [from a poem written to raise funds for building the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty] 

Give me your tired, your poor, / Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, / The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. / Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, / I lift my lamp beside the golden door!