It is spring and relatives descend from
really busy, congested places looking
for relief, peace and quiet. Some come
from far away, really, hot, dry, brown
places for the lush, green, late spring
world along the Big Lake and even
though the water is too cold for swim-
ming or even wading, they can walk
the shore and imagine the water’s
waves rolling over them or they can
sit at a restaurant’s lakeside, out-
door patio munching on homemade
kettle chips and sipping martinis,
squinting into the sun while watching
sailboats just out of storage and on
this season’s maiden voyage dock by
the restaurant. The talk goes on till
the wee small hours because the visitors
live three time zone’s away and they
are not tired, but after they leave, the
man realizes he is not just tire; he is ex-
hausted. It was a very nice visit and
they stayed three days, because by their
age they all understand along with Ben
Franklin that “Guests, like fish, begin
to smell after three days.” The house
was fresh as they walked out the door
and the man barely made it the beckon-
ing couch for a much-needed nap.