‎63 Years of Memories....

‎63 Years of Memories....
that's what I have now. The photo below shows the chair on the point which for so many years was my father's favorite after-supper place to contemplate and cast for walleye. As much as I feel guilty about what's happened, I know he would understand and even say there's nothing to forgive. He lived life fully and moved on many times. I'm the one with the unique experience of being attached to a beautiful place for my whole life. And despite all my best efforts, yesterday the 'cabin' was sold. I signed the papers and, truth be told, a weight was lifted. A new life lies ahead without the obligations, but with all of the wonderful memories. My unrelentingly positive attitude says this is truly how it is, but my heart is still sad.

There are some things in life for which the balance between the obligation and the joy of ownership often cannot be sustained forever. It became clear that I was no longer up to the task of taking care of the place quite a while back. However, knowing what needs to be done and doing it are often far apart. Finally, no choice was left. It had to be sold.

Now it's gone. No more worrying about how long the grass or how deep the snow is up there. No more sublimely pleasurable early morning cups of coffee sitting on the dock when the color of the lake is like pale blue glass and the air is completely still. No more endless repairs, high taxes, and utility bills. No more late nights around the fire pit with friends and family - warm from both fire and friendship. No more frozen pipes or emergency calls to the furnace guys. No more saunas and midnight skinny dipping that make you feel like you'll live forever while your connection with nature is confirmed by the gazillion stars of the milky way and the loons calling out in the dark. No more concerns with low well water levels or water so hard and full of iron the clothes turn yellow and your newly washed hair feels like brillo. No more finding the way home by boat in the dark after a long day on the lake feeling like this is the only place you really, really belong. No more praying that the boathouse will make it another year without collapsing. And ultimately, no more making new memories with friends, family and loved ones. No new memories, that is, at Half Bay, Lake Vermilion, Tower, MN. New life... here we come!

How do you thank a place for memories?

Saturday, June 05, 2010

The Mess Continues


As for the other mess...
As long as the living room floor was torn up (see May posting), I thought I'd tear up some more. Unfortunately, under the dining room carpet was the old kitchen linoleum. Only the top part of each tile came off easily, so I have yet another mess to take care of getting rid of the tar paper type backing. The original kitchen, as you can see, was about 5' x 8'. The doorway to the right was the door to the outside. The doorway to the left went to the main room of the cabin which originally had a small cast iron stove at the far end. The small metal patch on the left side of the kitchen floor covers the hole where the water and drain was for the kitchen sink. There is no tile on that side because that was the cabinet base. The stove (tiny) and icebox were next to each other on the right side wall with a window (now inset shelves) over the stove. The rest of this area (the non-tiled part) was the bedroom.

Here you can see where the wall was (white strip of filler wood) and the door to the bedroom which was about 6'x8'. The wall was so narrow because my dad saved space by putting the 2x4's sideways. There was a shallow closet where the blue shelf unit is now. The current door to the kitchen was a bedroom window.

When I was little I was put to bed in the bedroom, then moved to the sofa in the main room when my parents went to bed. In 1955, the current living room was built and then I got to have the old bedroom and the old main room became the master bedroom as it is now. In the kitchen ceiling above the 'hall' between the two doors was a pull down ladder to the attic which was just a crawlspace about 4' high in the middle of the peak of the roof. It was a hands-and-knees place only which ran the length of the original cabin. If we had guests, I would sleep up there in the crawlspace and the guests got my room. Sometimes a cousin or girlfriend would sleep up there with me. The mattresses (more like mats) were filled with horsehair. You could feel the stiff hairs inside the ticking material. There were old flat down pillows and the blankets were scratchy wool. There was a covered enamelware 'pot' for 'tinkling'. There was no room to walk if the ladder was down so once we were up there, we didn't come down until morning.

Ah, the good old days.

1 comment:

Bert said...

Oh yeah... back in my day we had to walk up hill both ways. no wait, that does sound pretty rough.

What do I get to tell Soren in 30 years?