The Gardner News has new by-lines on its front page, a crop of new reporters making just above minimum wage. Twenty-five years ago, I was a reporter for the Hudson Daily Sun (no longer in business). I asked for a raise to bring my salary more in line with the folks at McDonald's and Friendly's. I didn't get the raise and took a job in documentation group at Digital, where Sandra worked.
We opened the camp this weekend, cleaning up, unpacking things that had been in a big plastic barrel for the winter, turning the water back on. I crawled on the dirt and rock that is the cellar, the space just three feet high in places, to which the bump on my head will attest. I had to close the valves that I'd opened last fall. I was reminded that my father was 10 years older than I am now when he put in much of the plumbing. The plumbing system is cleverly engineered and is easy to fill and empty. You need just one tool, a pair of pliers. Well, there are a couple of other tools. One gadget, although I don't know if you'd call it a tool, is a one-pound coffee can (from the days when a one-pound can contained a pound of coffee), to which my father had welded a pipe fitting. We use the can to connect to a pipe to prime the pump. The other tool is a large spoon, with USN on the handle, brought back from the war. We use the handle of the spoon to lift the edge of the trap door that leads to the cellar.
The beavers have been sampling the young trees at the water's edge. Some of the cuts were very fresh, less than a day old. There was little other damage. The mice did chew into a half dozen plastic water bottles.
There's a disheveled house on a corner not far from the camp road. The tenants used to have a dog that they kept tied outside. Marley would, of course, have a lot to say to and about that dog. The family and the dog moved away last year. When Marley went out on Saturday morning to get the Finnish coffee bread, he let out a low growl. "And stay away!"
For the first time in nearly a year, my father made it up the steps to the camp. He has a pair of Nordic walking sticks (ski poles without the baskets) that he used to steady himself as he climbed the stairs. We had coffee, coffee bread, and cheese for lunch, talking about how the opening-up had gone. We also had visitors, first our next-door neighbors and then Jan. That was the cue for my father to leave. Crowds get to him very quickly. That evening a couple of friends visited us.
It was a busy and a social day. We had our first sauna of the season. The water, as you'd expect, was quite cold. It was probably just under 50°.
My father told a story of being at the camp alone in December. It was a calm day and the lake started to freeze. He watched as the shards of ice grew across the still surface.
A gap in the tree cover let Sunday morning's light rain fall on the two chairs on the front deck, leaving the rest of the deck dry.
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