Posts Tagged ‘cabin life’
Heat Beating
We had no trouble beating the heat on Saturday. That big body of water does wonders for avoiding overheating when the weather gets aggressively hot enough to trigger warnings.
We lounged in the water at our beach several different times throughout the day and added a cruise on the pontoon boat for good measure.
A hot Saturday in July brought out a large number of people with the same idea. Both the prominent sandbar at the mouth of one bay and the public island near our shoreline were filled with boaters parking to play in the soothing water.
There is a good chance that today will be a repeat of the same activities since the heat and humidity have yet to ease.
No sense in fighting the elements when there is a big lake offering comfortable respite right outside our door. It’s what being up at the lake place is all about, after all.
Well, that and eating ice cream from West’s Dairy. We managed to do some of that, too.
I won’t mention the hubbub that occurred last night at zero dark thirty, involving some screaming and unwelcome winged rodents that have reappeared inside our living quarters. Maybe I was just dreaming that again.
Cabin life.
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Summer Reality
Even though the lake home is a luxurious 12-inch cedar log structure with spacious rooms, large sleeping capacity, and more bathrooms than I care to admit, it is not immune to the problems that have plagued most anyone who has spent a lot of time up at a cabin.
What story does this photo reveal to you? If you know, you know.
The accessories decorating Cyndie’s and my loft bedroom at the lake place this week reflect the kind of sleep we have been getting the last few nights.
The first time I noticed it, I assumed Cyndie was sleeping through the odd pings, tings, knocked things, and flapping wing sounds I was picking up. I guessed it was a bat, but preferred to prioritize my sleep and let it have its fun. In no time, I was dreaming that I had picked up my cell phone, turned on the light to see a bat wrapped in a curtain that Cyndie handed to me. I proceeded to try “dispatching” the pest, but it merely folded over harmlessly in the dream.
Upon waking in the morning, I figured out I had dreamed the interaction, but Cyndie confirmed she had heard the bat, too, so that part was real.
The next night, I was startled awake from a wonderfully deep sleep by the blast of a very bright light over our bed. Cyndie reported it was the bat again. This time, she couldn’t ignore it because she felt something hit her, which is why she turned on the light. There was a bat turd on the sheets.
When she retold this story to Julian the next morning, he seamlessly responded, “That makes it official: you are batshit crazy.”
Cyndie and I clumsily flailed after the flying mouse until it disappeared into our attached bathroom. I suggested Cyndie close the door, and we both lay back down to sleep. Just then, a screech owl call pierced the quiet and echoed in the trees outside the window.
After assembling the collection of tools that can be seen in the photo above, we both slept soundly through the entire night on Wednesday. It’s difficult to know whether that meant there was no bat in flight or we had gotten used to the flapping enough that it no longer interrupted our slumber.
In reference to a bigger picture, I am feeling more sad about my country than ever before this US Independence Day. Enough said.
Send extra love out into the world, hug those you hold dear, and give someone you don’t know a big smile to brighten their day.
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Tragic Ending
We had a really brilliant day yesterday, tending to things around the lake place. A large limb that had fallen into the yard was cut up and tossed back into the woods. Felt a little like I was still at home. Elysa and I tended to a portion of the labyrinth path, dispatching the lovely plants that were growing where we didn’t want them. A second trip to town to buy flowering plants occurred, so I spent some time moving giant planters and garden hoses out of the garage where they had been stored for the winter.
The caretaker was planning to come to swap the storm windows around the sunroom for screens, so I spent time clearing a pathway in the garage to the back wall where the screens are stored. Everything seemed to be humming along smoothly.
Speaking of humming, the hummingbirds took an instant liking to the flowering plants and the fresh serving of sugar water Cyndie put out. A robin momma was ever-present on a nest on an outdoor light by the sliding door to the deck.
The four eggs explained why the bird was hanging around despite all the human activity. Unfortunately, the strong breeze of the afternoon resulted in tragedy for our feathered friend.
Many sad exclamations were uttered over the awful scene, but we soon carried on with our landscape primping and garage cleaning with stoic tenacity. I brought out the benches around the fireplace, which inspired us to build a fire for cooking dinner. Ladder golf apparatus came out, and Elysa and Ande put them to immediate use.
Raindrops teased in the middle of the afternoon, but never became real rain until the middle of the night last night. Today, we expect to do fewer chores and more lounging around, enjoying the gorgeous scenery and the pretty flowers, smartly arranged.
An embarrassment of riches amid the occasional natural tragedy.
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Morning Shadows
Yesterday’s sunrise was fun to watch through the windows overlooking the lake, but it was the golden light hitting the walls inside and the shadows cast that triggered me to pull out my phone camera to capture images.
Day two of my assignment at the lake was even easier than the one before. Our contractor, Brad, didn’t take me up on an offer to help lift or carry anything, so it was another day filled with reading, writing, puzzling, sweeping a dusting of snow off the steps, streaming movies and TV shows, and finding ways to somehow make a respectable dent in all the food Cyndie sent up with me.
I looked up from my puzzle and spotted Brad loading a tall, old gas wall heater into his truck he’d uninstalled from Cabin 3. I have no idea how he got it off the wall and down all the stairs by himself. A short while later, he was hoisting the old gas range and oven onto his tailgate that he’d wheeled down on a two-wheel dolly hand truck. He is a very independent worker.
We are done dealing with the smell of micro-leaks of propane from the vintage appliances with no plan to replace them. (I apologize in advance to Thomas, who must cringe at the thought upon reading that sentence.) The small cabin isn’t winterized, and no cooking ever happens there these days. It makes a great overflow space for sleeping in the summer with multiple beds, a full bathroom, a refrigerator, and a kitchen sink.
Don’t know if I’m heading home this afternoon or tomorrow. I won’t complain if I get to stay one more day.
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Different Sleep
A change of perspective is always a valuable experience for me and this weekend up at the lake we have been residing in the old cabin #3 beside the main log house above the water. It is one of the original cabins of the former fishing lodge that Cyndie’s family saved when the Wildwood Association transitioned to families owning individual lots.
The Friswolds moved cabin 3 to a new foundation farther back from the lake to make room for the new log home they had built back in the early 1980s. When our kids were young, we spent most of our time up here in the old cabin, granting people in the big house respite from the clamor of infants waking early and the occasional outbursts of either glee or angst associated with that age.
Currently, there are no young ones of the next generation in the family and cabin 3 gets used less often, primarily as overflow accommodations when attendance numbers swell for a weekend.
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Cyndie and I are really enjoying the throwback to a time when our primary experience up at the lake was from the vantage point of the old, and much smaller cabin.
I have been sleeping deeper than in recent memory and with Asher left back in Beldenville with a sitter for this visit, we have no reasons to rise early. This morning the 8 o’clock hour had arrived before we got up. I had woken early and read the whole paper in bed on my computer and then faded into a morning nap that felt rather decadent.
The small rooms and close proximity to the ground (in the big house we usually sleep in the loft) make it feel like we are almost sleeping outdoors.
The view out the back window is one I relish for the trees and forest floor I’m most attracted to for a natural environment.
It’s as if I’m forest bathing all night long as I sleep.
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Coolish Fun
For a weekend at the lake, we are spending more time away from the water than in it. That hot summer sun is not so prominent and the temperature of the lake is a little chilly, inviting us to pursue alternative activities. Cyndie and I started with another exploratory trek through the forest across the road with Delilah.
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Julian brought up his Onewheel and provided Steve an introductory lesson on the basics of starting and stopping. No participants were injured in the exercise.
Julian and Allison also brought up custom-made cornhole boards that were a groomsman’s gift from a friend whose wedding Julian was in. With a fire in the firepit and pork chops on the grill, the bag toss game fit nicely as further entertainment up and out of the chilly lake.
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Lake Life
We enlisted the help of recently discovered neighborhood friends to watch over our chickens for the weekend so we could come up to the lake with Cyndie’s parents.
The chickens would be a bit much to haul with us for the trip. The hens and our cat, Pequenita, have been left behind, but Delilah came up with us.
She has only come up here a handful of times, but she seems to have adapted to the unusual surroundings without any anxiety. The first time here, the lake scared her. Now she walks in without hesitation.
Our first patrol around the property revealed eagles in their nest in the tree over the tennis court and a recently hatched turtle by the lagoon.
Cyndie should have put something in this picture to provide some size reference. Like, a thimble. Or a dime. It was a tiny turtle.
I built a fire for cooking a flank steak dinner and snuck in another hour of pedaling my bike before dinner. It was mostly sunny, with brief periods of sprinkling rain. I came upon some pavement that was freshly soaked, so there must have been a small downpour, too.
I can say that I rode in the rain, but didn’t get very wet.
After only a half day up here yesterday, I can say we’ve already settled into life at the lake. Here’s to getting sand in your shoes…
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Relative Something 