THE RIDE HOME

7-16-2016

The Ride Home

The ride home is usually a non-stop ride.  This was an exception.  Tooling down old County M, we were suddenly called upon to brake and stop.  A young doe had been beckoned to nurse two 4 or 5 day old vividly spotted fawns right in the middle of the road.  They were, obviously quite insistent, but mom-noticing our stopped vehicle thirty feet away-rudely interrupted.  She walked into the tall grass alongside the roadway and called to her offspring who promptly pranced into the grass and laid down, heads at periscope height to watch us.

We proceeded another mile or so when forced to slow down again, allowing the crossing of two adult Sandhill Cranes shepherding their twin chicks to the other side of the road. 

After leaving the nursery area, we experienced no further delays.  So what's another five minutes travel time when nature calls.

REFLECTIONS ON RECENT BLOG

REFLECTIONS ON RECENT BLOG

You would have to dig deeply to find any political references in my blogs.  That is because I find it difficult to find anything particularly worthwhile in the current political atmosphere to elaborate upon.  I think it best to focus on trees, cabins and decks, rather than politics.  That is not to say that I am oblivious to the political climate currently enveloping our universe.  It would be more accurate to say that I would prefer to confine my memoirs to issues much more pleasant to contemplate.

I often opened personal discussions about politics or the cyber civilization with the oft cited tale about Abraham Lincoln having accomplished a good deal of his writing and ciphering on the back of a shovel with a piece of charcoal from the cabin cook stove.  Ah, how simple life was back then.

Now, our younger generations turn on the tube, or the cell phone, and hear about impending plans for prosecution, impeachment, Brexit, rioting crowds tearing down cities it took generations to build, bankrupt governments and trade wars.  And, would you believe it?  The messages even come in RAP!  What ever happened to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” or “Look for the Silver Lining”?

Come to think of it, could it be possible that all of the current political rhetoric  was the reason that one’s “get up and go” “got up and went”?  And could it even be possible that some effectively applied rationalization could help us all find the lost “get up and go”?  Possible, yes!  Probable, no!  Unless some people who call themselves politicians come to their senses and grow up!

 

RUNNING OUT OF ..........?

One could be sitting on the tailgate of the truck, see a pile of logs and imagine what one could create.

Or, one could be sitting on the deck at the cabin and see a pile of logs, get up and create a good stack of split firewood.

That would be twenty years ago, or maybe even ten, or possibly even five.

Then, one would get up and “create” out of nature’s bounty.

Now, one more often sits back to decide whether, or not, to get up at all.

Just seems to be a more frequently mislaid case of “get up and go”. It certainly couldn’t be old age.  As least not yet. 

Well, might as well get up and start looking for it.  It appears that I’ll need it before the wood pile is depleted.

THE PASSING OF SEARS ROEBUCK AND COMPANY

Elements of "time" and the "responsibilities of life" have cut down substantially on the frequency of my blogs, but occasionally an event of weighty importance prompts the quill be dipped into the ink  bottle.  This is one of those events.

Sears has filed for bankruptcy. With it goes the Sear's Catalog, several hundred pages of everything a family would need to survive. Whatever the need, be it socks, shorts, overalls or chicken wire, it could be found in the Sear's Catalog.

A new and current catalog was delivered annually, with prices valid through the entire year. When the new current catalog came, the old one was relegated to the "outhouse", where it served a very necessary purpose, for as long as the several hundred pages would last. Selection of pages used was very important, usually retaining the sporting goods section until last so that one could lust over the JC Higgins shotguns and other sporting equipment one would contemplate for the next Christmas Holiday.

I often thought that my excellent eyesight was partially a product of circumstance, since the lighting in an outhouse left much to be desired. Obviously, there was no electical power out there, so lighting was usually limited to whatever eked in through the partial moon opening grandpa cut in the outhouse door. I am not sure that was a valid assumption , but it will do until a better one comes along.

There have been a multitude of catalogs produced, as you can attest by the content of your mail box and bookshelves, but few would rival the excitement generated by the annual arrival of the "new" Sear's catalog.

It will surely be sorely missed, although, admittedly, Kimberly Clark has stepped in and assumed some of its important duties.

I have been reminded that some readers may have to put on their mid twentieth century thnking caps for this blog.　

Grandpa Hill

　


　

A BLOW DOWN AND A REBOUND

It has been some time since I penned an entry into this log. It seems as if the memories and events that create such thoughts were interrupted by that lousy storm that raised havoc with our Wild Rose retreat. In fact, June 14,2017, transformed the “retreat” into a “restoration project”.

Numerous runs to Waushara County resulted in remedial efforts rather than the more satisfying and relaxing log cabin retreats. I will not go into the gory details, but suffice to say the long escapes into the pines to battle our arch enemy “buckthorn” were replaced by removing fallen trees from places they did not belong. For the most part, that objective has been fairly well accomplished, I might add “with the help and sweat of many”. A few formidable chores remain, such as a submerged oak tree off the lake shore, but that will be tackled when warmer waters prevail. Then, a landscaping “to do” remains to be undertaken. In a few years, all will be forgotten—I think!

But, I am trying to visualize this as an ongoing labor of love rather than a chore. Perhaps, layering periods of restoration between intervals of deck dwelling and bird watching will make the entire undertaking more palatable. And it would support my philosophy that “too much of a bad thing is not good, and too much of a good thing is not bad”.

Regardless, right now the mercury is at zero, so landscaping is not an alternative. I had best go back to planning and waiting for a thaw.

2018 is bound to be better.   

THAT FEELING IN THE PIT OF YOUR STOMACH

 You know the feeling.  The one in the pit of your stomach when you see something you don't want to see or encounter something that you don't feel capable of tackling at the moment.

The last time was many years ago as I was cruising back from Marshfield at 5500 feet altitude, enjoying a scenery full of beautiful cumulus clouds and blue sky when I realized all of the many holes through which I could see the ground  had been replaced with a solid layer of clouds, totally eliminating my view of mother earth.  Weather advisories confirmed a scattered 2500 foot ceiling all the way home, but the escalator was missing.

The feeling in the pit was eliminated when I judiciously made a 180 degree turn and headed back to where the breaks in the clouds made it possible to see hallowed ground again.  A normal descent brought me down to a 2500 foot ceiling and a comfortable trip back home.  What originally was thought to be a challenge was parried with a proper reaction, which resulted in a safe and satisfactory conclusion to the trip.

A similar feeling in the stomach showed up when I originally viewed the mess that a recent catastrophic storm levied on Waushara County and specifically on our Wilson Lake retreat.  But, with the help of many friends and relatives, it appears that a judicious 180 degree turn will restore the break in the clouds and help make an eventual and satisfactory end to this voyage possible also.  We sustained some property loss, though not near as much as others in the area, and we loss some dear old 150 year old Oaks which have provided shade and comfort for ages.  But new generations will replace them, and the view from the deck will be as captivating as ever.  May we all continue to enjoy it in years to come.

WINTER INVASION

This was a recent facebook entry I made.  Someone suggested I enter it into my www.cabin-muse.blogspot.com blog, so here it is.  I'll simply entitle it "Winter Invasion".

The first thing on my mind is thanking everyone for the many birthday wishes received.  I will endeavor to thank each of you individually and hope too many months will not pass before I have the chance to do so.

The next thing on my mind occurred during a recent visit up to the log cabin.  Since we don't have time to run up too often in the extremes of winter, we shoot up occasionally to check on things.  On a recent checkup, my faithful warden and overseer, Dolores, happened to check the old wood burner and reported something unusual was occupying the firebox.  Upon examination I discovered two gray squirrels cozily wrapped around one another in a deep slumber, prompted by the relatively warm cabin air.  When I attempted to evict the trespassers, I can only descrbe their response as "an explosion" as they rocketed up the chimney and out into the brisk winter air.  I closed the draft and within a few minutes the crafty devils had re-entered the chimney and were now reclining atop the draft, having refused to give up the handy heat source.  I will check later to monitor their abode.