Monday, June 6, 2011

Thinkin' about the Cabin

The Cabin at Camp Nelson

The Cabin is home. I don't remember not having the Cabin to go to. After all, my great-grandparents built it in 1923. It was in a sunny spot and my great-grandfather had tuberculosis. Treatment then was just sunshine so they built the cabin.

It had one room then. And an outhouse. At some point they added a lean-to bedroom/porch that was screened in and a bathroom with a 6 foot, claw-footed bathtub and a FLUSH toilet. They had built a septic tank out of an old oil barrel and stuck it in the ground!

That barrel is still there. (It is NOT in use!)

One of the major responsibilities of having a cabin on forest service land is to make sure the property is raked and all fire hazards are removed before June 1 of each year.

We use to go up every year for Memorial Day weekend and spend the entire time raking and hauling leaves and pine needles down the hill. It was back breaking, dirty, dusty, hot work. But every year we did it.

It NEVER was cold on Memorial Day. It was ALWAYS HOT! Miserably hot.

We have turned the work over to landscaping people who rake and haul and trim trees etc. BEFORE we get up there. And frankly, they get it cleaner than we ever did.

So when we went up for Dan's Farewell, the yard was all in good shape.

But it was a bit cool. And then it rained buckets. AND THEN IT SNOWED!

Snow at the cabin is magical. You can hear the river but not the snow.

Jed had never been in a snow fall. Here is his video from our deck:

We laughed a lot. We cried a little. We shared stories and we all KNEW that Dan was responsible for the weather. Good grief, the next day was heart-stopping gorgeous!

But I think we all felt a little like Bill. Lost in the smoke of the campfire.

Just remembering and thinking. Not sayin' much. Just thinkin'.

He will always be there. He will always be with us.

Oh, Danny Boy,
The Pipes the pipes are calling.
From Glen to Glen and Down the Mountainside.
The Summers gone and all the flowers dying.
Tis you, tis you must go
And I must bide.

But come ye back,
when summers in the meadow or when the valley's white
and hushed with snow.
Tis I'll be here, in sunshine or in shadow.
Oh, Danny Boy,
Oh, Danny Boy.
I love you so.

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