Spring's a' springing

We spent this season's first night at the camp on Friday. Sandra went there in the afternoon to open up, start a fire, clean the yard, and, in general, make the place ready for overnight guests. There had been some overnighters before, as evidenced by the acorn on the shelf above the couch. We won't turn on the water for a couple more weeks, so water for washing (people and dishes) and coffee needed to be fetched from the lake by a bucket. I learned a long time ago, staying at my aunt and uncle's camp in Vermont, where water had to be brought from the stream, that carrying two buckets is easier than carrying one. Better balance. We have just one bucket at our camp, but we'll endure.

The next day we had three visitors. First, my father arrived a bit before noon for coffee and Finnish coffee bread. A short while later, boat guy Andy and his dog, Hydro, came to help us get the boat ready for the season. Hydro, a youthful yellow Lab, didn't do much work on the boat, but he kept Marley entertained. A slight row broke out when Hydro took one of Marley's squeak toys. Overall, though, the two dogs played hard and well.

Marley's showing signs of age. The play date with Hydro wore him out. Whenever he can, he finds places in the sun for his naps. Since we cleared away the trees, the area behind the camp is bright and sunny and the bed of hemlock and pine needles is warm. It's a good place for an old dog.

Next Saturday my father will go to the burial services for his friend, Arne, who died a few months ago. He'd known Arne since the time they worked in the Quincy shipyards in the 30s. Arne was the last of my father's friends who were the same age as my father.

We asked my father if he knew the way to the town where the services will be held. He did. He knew a guy, named Bill, who lived in that town. Bill drank a bit and when Bill drank, he regularly drove into a particular tree in the center of town. It happened so often that Bill's friends hung a old tire on the tree and put up a sign that said, "Bill's Tree." Bill had to spend a lot of time calling in favors from his political friends so that he could keep his license and get to work.

A black bear and her cubs were discovered in a maple tree in Barre. It took two state agencies and the local fire department to bring the bears down safely. The bears were then delivered to the Phillipston wildlife preserve, about three miles, as the bears walk, from our camp.

A news item that I somehow missed: last Friday was National Hairball Awareness Day.

The recent news about the Massachusetts department of health publishing a report that ties incidents of cancer to a toxic waste site in Ashland reminds me of the Nashua River in Fitchburg in the 60s. The river would be different colors, depending on the dyes that the paper mills were using that day. Sometimes red, sometimes yellow, sometimes green. We never swam in it, nor did I know anybody who tried to fish there. The river is good now, although I would still hesitate to put my toe in there, unless that toe was in a rubber boot.