Turf Wars

So we made it back to the cabin earlier this month. At first, it seemed like everything was in order. We walked in, listened for anything vaguely like a mouse skuttling. Hearing nothing, we started to unload the car and get organized. The cat went right into the crawlspace under the cabin and within about half an hour, caught a mouse. Hmmmm. We didn't think much of it until we opened one cupboard and found that a mouse and his friends had had a major party in a big kleenex box. It was totally shredded, with a generous sprinkling of black rice. It cleaned up pretty quickly. So we thought all was well.

A while later, we noticed a groundhog (muskrat) sticking his head out from under the shed next to the cabin. Our backyard was full of delicious greenery. At first we let him be. The cat was fascinated with him. They didn't bother each other. Then we learned that they can make big tunnels and burrows under buildings, and that those facilities would likely be inhabited by other critters down the line. So, we decided he'd have to go. We planned to get a "Have A Heart" trap to do some 'catch and release.' However, before we took that step, we played some Tower of Power out in the shed at a good volume. He or she wasn't a fan, and we haven't seen him since!

We thought our experiences were quite unique, until a neighbor told us of a relative of his who unlocked his summer place up north, only to find lots of duck scat all over the house, a pile of duck feathers, and then a very smelly and very dead duck in the middle of the living room. Apparently the poor thing had flown down the chimney (they'd left the damper open) and couldn't get out.

Today I was filling my car with gas and half-way through, I happened to look at the area around the gas tank opening. There was a miniature wasp nest, complete with an actual wasp on it!  I managed to fill the tank, close the lid, and get home. My husband kindly took care of the nest.

What will we find when we get there?

It's several weeks yet before many of us venture to our camps, cabins and cottages that are boarded up all winter. Just about two full moons from now, we'll be packing up, and venturing back to the woods to check things out.

Now is the time when we start to wonder what we'll find when we pull into the driveway. We'll smell the air, car windows down, and listen to the crunch of the tires on the gravel driveway festooned with pine needles.The cabin will have been waiting for us, silent and empty, for six months.

What will we find? Will there be dead mice in the wastebasket, lured there by the blob of peanut butter? Will there be live mice? One year we opened the cabin door, and the cat snuck by us. Once inside, he pricked up his ears and scampered up the ladder to the loft, commencing a week of nightly hunts, his favorite entertainment. Last year, we were grateful to find not one, not even a trace of one. Dead or alive.

Will we find piles of dead cluster flies? Yes. Especially since it's been a relatively warm winter. We did put up fly strips in the fall, but I bet they will have been overwhelmed, given the warm days that spur on hatches.

Will we find traces of moose visits? Always. We'll find broken off branches and stems of small birch trees, and piles of tater tot-like moose nuggets near the porch, places a moose might stand, out of the wind and snow. Heck, one of these years I'm sure we'll find some on our porch. Why can't moose enjoy a little porch therapy too?

Will we find piles of chewed up pine cones, courtesy of the red squirrels? Of course.

Will we find that the floating dock is still tied to the tree between the rocks? Yes. It always is.


Of course one worries about break-ins, but our neighbors check in on things for us. We have learned to relax about that somewhat.

And when at last we roll into the driveway and get out of the car and slam its doors, will we find the air so thick with silence that it pulls the tension right out of us?

And when we open the cabin's front door, and see the piles of cluster flies, the bins, the porch furniture piled up, all in the state of chaotic winter storage, at that moment will we find that longed-for smell? Will we breathe deeply, savoring the pungent scent of the wood - maple and hemlock - that has been curing all winter?  I hope so!

Here's a photo of a Jamestown, TN log cabin for sale. It captures the mystery of arriving at a silent cabin by car on a crunchy gravel driveway. Looks like a lovely place. Link to property

Very Pinteresting Indeed

Have you heard of the program Pinterest? If you like cabins and cabin decor, you should check it out. Pinterest (www.pinterest.com) is a free program that allows you to organize images (photos, drawings, etc.) according to your own categories. And then you can share them with your friends, and pin up the images you like on your boards. You can 'repin' what other people have posted on their boards too.

One of my nieces invited me to join. (It takes a bit of time time to get approved if you request to join without being invited.) It is a fantastic way to collect ideas about cabin decor and design. Personally I have a 'board' where I pin everything rustic, another one for 'cabin dreams', another for decor ideas using twigs and branches. The only down side is that it gives you a bad case of cabin fever!  Here is a photograph of what looks like a cabin bedroom. This has been 'repinned' by more than 5,000 people. It appears a lot of folks would like to be sleeping in a cozy cabin just about now.

Source: 29.media.tumblr.com via Kay on Pinterest

Really old camp shirt

What's your oldest camp shirt? Mine is more than four decades old. OK so I'm dating myself, right? When I was 15, my dad bought this camp shirt for me. It's really not a camp 'shirt', it's a wool Pendleton-style shirt you wear as a fall jacket. At the time, he told me that I'd have this shirt forever. It's something you just keep for a long time. And he was right. There were many years when I was abroad, and many years when I never wore it. But it has lasted beautifully.

So after all this time, it's back in fashion. It's a blue 'block plaid' wool with a vintage straight fit. It keeps me toasty warm on these cool fall days. The label inside has my maiden name and 'camp nickname' still written in indelible marker. The commercial label reads "Rough Rider Clothing" by Woods Base Canvas Company Ltd., out of Toronto and Winnipeg, Canada. I can't find anything on-line about this company, so perhaps it went out of business. In any case, this year, after all these decades, it fits more beautifully than ever before. I put it on, and it keeps the chill away, and makes me think of my late father. How many times we raked leaves together and I'd be wearing this shirt. From now on, it's going to get a lot more use.

Migrations

The last weeks before we close up the cabin are here - it seems like we just got here. However, the leaves are turning fast now. The days and nights are cooling dramatically. We'll get a possible frost by the end of the week.

In our area, many seasonal camp owners have been gone for weeks. Now, the last of the summer people are departing for southern climes. We went to a bonfire the other night - circling the fire in camp chairs was a huge group of 'snowbirds' taking off in the next few days. They were already making plans to meet up at restaurants in Florida.

The birds in our 'stream' - Canada Geese, ducks, teals, herons and loons, are coming and going on their migration south...until this morning when shots rang out, announcing the beginning of bird hunting season. It was a rather noisy day here today, and I wonder if any more migrating birds will even bother stopping here, if they get the word that it's not a safe rest stop right now.

Up the lake, a couple of beavers are making a massive beaver hut. They slap the water when you get close to them. They're piling up carefully trimmed sticks and they're patting mud on the outside of it. They are clearly planning to stay over the winter.

Not us, though. Our cabin, like many others up here in the woods, is not made for wintering over. When the day comes to leave, we'll be more than ready. But the moment we get home, we'll start longing for next spring. 

Edmund Ware Smith Book Discussion

Recently we traveled an hour by car, through mists and rain, to get to a book discussion. Hosted by the historical society of the Maine village of Grand Lake Stream, the discussion focused on the works of Edmund Ware Smith (EWS), our favorite Maine woods author.

The visit was well worth the drive through moose territory. When you drive in late afternoon and night time around here you have to keep a sharp eye out for moose in the road. Unlike most animals, when headlights hit moose eyes, they don't glow - and the dark brown hulk of a moose can be hard to see. So it's a bit risking driving out at night on the quiet roads of Downeast Maine.

No worries though for the program. Enthusiastic fans of EWS packed into a small room. We sipped mulled cider and discussed his work, his prose and the stories of the author's time in the lakes that surround Grand Lake Stream.

All his works are out of print now, which we all agreed was a shame. They are engaging, beautifully written, charming, funny and poignant. His love of the north woods and the characters in it shines through in every sentence. He brought the area around Grand Lake Stream - all the lakes in the Grand Lake watershed - to life and put them on the map.

Most iconic is the essay he wrote about the day one of his sons drowned in Sysladobsis Lake (known as "Dobsy" or "Dobsis" for short). It's quite mysterious, this particular essay, and tragic. Yet the incident solidified the author's deep ties to the area that would last for the rest of his life. That essay is from his A TREASURY OF THE MAINE WOODS.

Attending the book discussion was a fellow named Harry Bailey, whose great grandfather and grandfather were caretakers at the Dobsis Club where the incident happened. Mr. Bailey passed around a letter from the author to his grandfather, and included in it was a photograph of Mr and Mrs. Smith with their son.

Here is a list of his book-length works. You can find them on e-bay and amazon, and at your local public library. He published many of his essays in national magazines.

• Rider in the Sun (1935)
• A Tomato Can Chronicle (1937, 1991)
• Tall Tales and Short (1938, 1991)
• The One Eyed Poacher of Privilege (1941, 1991)
• From Fact to Fiction (1946)
• The Further Adventures of the One Eyed Poacher (1947)
• The One Eyed Poacher and the Maine Woods (1955)
• A Treasury of the Maine Woods (1958, 1976)
• For Maine Only (1959)
• Upriver & Down (1965)
• To Fish and Hunt in Maine (1991, edited by Thomas Kinney)

 The list above was found on outdoorsportinglibrary.com - it has an excellent account of his life.
The link to the website is here.

The storm passing in the night

Last night we could hardly sleep. The still air was saturated with humidity. We noted that it might be the last warm and humid night of the season, but noting this didn't help us. A while later, having never quite fallen asleep, I turned over. Distant lightning lit up the woods like a swarm of papparazi. It flashed again and again, silently, but each time, it lit up the entire sky. The cat watched from the window sill. I wondered what the moose and owls and mice and voles were doing? Were they awake watching, or ignoring it and doing whatever they usually do at night? Finally a distant echo of thunder rolled down the lake. When it grew louder, I got up and shut most windows and unplugged the computer. Then I stood on the porch in the dark. The storm would pass us by, just to the north. The thunder only grew so loud, and the breeze only blew a little. After a couple of perfunctory rain showers, the storm was gone. Then we fell asleep.

A link to the photograph above can be found here..