Bill, our son and I were up to our camp over the long weekend. I have written about the place before. It is a beautiful spot. The cabin itself is incredible, built by our son and his friend. The beams are made of the large cedar trees that had to be cut down in order for us to have a septic field. Gradually we have introduced amenities – a deck, wooden walkways to the shore of the lake, a dock, a platform down by the water, hot water, stove and fridge, ingenious double-decker beds that are a double bed on the bottom and a single bed on the top.
This weekend we were building a path designed by our son, to go around the side of the cabin and link up with the walkways. The paths are lined with cedar logs, filled with rocks. This required shoveling the rocks into a bucket and carrying it to the path. Top soil and then wood chips will be put over the rocks. I had more exercise in one day than I usually have in two weeks. I am not good at exercising for itself, but I love to exercise when it involves having something substantial at the end. I think many people my age feel this way. It is surprising to me that so many young people exercise for its own sake – walking briskly in all kinds of weather, walking on a treadmill in their cellar, or going to a gym. The franchise Curves spread like wildfire throughout North America on the principle of jumping on and off machines to lively music. If someone could invent an exercise routine where something was actually accomplished, I think it would become popular.
We haven’t been able to settle on what to call the building: cabin or cottage? For me, cabin has a romantic ring. A cabin in the woods. Thoreau’s cabin. We do have a name for the building: Slow Loris. This comes from a piece of art that Bill made and which hangs in the living room. It is of a Slow Loris (a kind of monkey creature of the sloth family), made of thick gesso, painted pink, with large red beads for eyes. Bill fell in love with the beads at a yard sale and had to figure out how to use them.