The Cabin

[hillvalley]

A cabin "up North" is de rigur for Minnesotans.

Us, we go to Canoe Bay.  The food is better, and we don't have to cook, clean, wash, or get dressed if we don't want to.

Bruce

While we have to cook, etc., we don't have to get dressed, either. In fact, Peter discovered that the way to get the occasionaly fishing boat away from the front of the cabin is to bare all on the rock at the end of the dock.

I was rereading the thread and am now laughing my a#@ off at this. Thank Peter for me.

[maggiethecat]

Dear Susan, when I saw this thread drift to the top again, I felt as if I were opening my very own cabin --I was excited. Thanks for giving all of us a little piece of Minnesota heaven. And this from a woman whose idea of a summer vacation is a sidewalk and an aperitif in a cafe in an Old City ! I might yet learn to clean my own trout. Or walleye. If Diana can, I can.

[snowangel]

I might yet learn to clean my own trout. Or walleye. If Diana can, I can.

FYI, Maggie, sunnies are the most fun to catch, the easiest to clean, and really great eating. In our household, the kids learn to catch, clean and cook at age 5.

[snowangel]

I could definately do the remoteness. Actually, it sounds wonderful to be that cut off. But I would need more than a radio, although the only other thing is a tape deck or CD player.

It's the lack of running water that's my issue.

Susan, details on the meals please. Will you bring anything up to leave over the summer or are neighbors a problem? Any special foods you only eat there? How does feeding Heidi play into it?

Hillvalley, the radio station we listen to, KAXE (www.kaxe.org) is far more than adequate. This station is driven by the various show hosts, not ratings or corporate. It is wonderful. We hear line-ups of tunes that no other radio station would dare touch.

Reminder, we do have running water. Paul or me running to the lake with an empty bucket to fill up! We do bring drinking water from home.

Menus. We will be going up with my best friend (we met at St. Olaf College in 1975) and her family. So, there will be us 5 and their 4. Susan and I work well together on food, and our kids are all "good eaters." We do leave some food up there all of the time -- the flour, sugar, etc. all winter over very well, as does mustard, olive oil, some spices, etc. Sure the stuff froze over the winter, but that's OK. I have a master list of things I bring up every Opening weekend, and have learned to make a list of what needs to be brought up the next time and I keep this list in the glove box of my vehicle so I actually remember to bring it up. The cabin is well stocked. We have stuff like curry paste, fish sauce, several kinds of vinegar and mustards, etc. We may be roughing it on the electricity/water front, but not on the food front.

So, for this weekend we are planning:

Breakfasts: Bacon (lots of really good bacon). Pancakes one morning, waffles the other. Although we don't have electricity, we do have two really neat stove stop waffle makers. Scrambled eggs or fried eggs (Heidi really likes an over easy egg on her pancakes or waffles). The waffle makers areNordicware waffle maker. No breakfast happens, naturally, until I have had a cup of coffee on the deck or dock. Probably the deck the first morning since we will not brave the cold water until fortified to put the dock in.

Lunches. Cheese, bread, venison sausage, veggies, fruit. Sort of a do-it-yourself-when-you-want affair.

Dinners. Since we will arrive on Friday before dinner, Susan and I have decided to do an appetizery dinner. Scallops, marinated in chili garlic sauce, skewered, and grilled. AlexP's divine White Gazpacho (we'll have Diana and Nick peel the grapes). Tapanade. Bread. Chips/salsa. Beer and gin and tonics, naturally. Saturday night: Either ribeyes or NY strips (whatever looks better at Susan's local meat market), the cold asparagus from Barbara Tropp's Modern Art of Chinese Cooking, green beans (steamed with lemon juice and kosher salt), bread. Susan and Nick will do dessert. Something with strawberries, balsamic vinegar, marscapone and whipped cream. Wine and cocktails.

The only mystery is just how cold the water will be when I don bikini to help Paul put the dock in (he wears the waders, I am the Brave One) and weather I will do more than just wade into to put in the dock. Will I be brave enough for a quick dip and hair wash? How warm will the water be?

The thought of this weekend is giving us all heart palpatations. It has been entirely too long.

[snowangel]

The Bronco is packed, except for the cooler.

The kids are in bed; not asleep, but twitching with anticipation.

We are all more than ready. It has been a long and hard winter for our family. Lots of changes.

Take-off prior to 8:00 am. Breakfast at the White Castle in Hinkley.

We will dine well tomorrow night on the deck at The Cabin. It will be The Best Meal Of The Year, at least for our family.

[snowangel]

They say you can never go home again. So, with this in mind, as we get to that final mile before the cabin, it is not only with excitement, but a bit of anxiety that we round the bend. I have been going to the cabin since 1977, and my kids since they were weeks or months old, and every time, we do go home again.

The day dawned cloudy and the weather report looked less than promising. Although we had intended to leave before 8:00 am, we did not pull out until 8:20 am. I had forgotten to get the coffee pot ready the night before, and determined that yes, a shower would be a part of the morning. So, a quick blast under the water, pack the cooler, get juice for the kids, meds for Heidi, and we were off.

First stop was in Hinkley for breakfast at White Castle. Paul and Diana ran in and got 16 sliders, one large order of fries, 2 orders of onion chips and two large cokes. We ate and drove (actually, Paul drove and ate, the rest of us just ate). 4 sliders is my limit, especially when accompanied by a lot of fries and onion chips.

Next stop in Cloquet at the Lemon Tree for vodka and tonic (we had lemons and limes). Next stop was in Cook at Northwoods Bait for bait. The line was so long that we got back on the road and stopped at Anderson Bait in Orr for bait and a fishing license. While Paul did that, I stopped at the grocery for milk, ice and eggs. When I pack the cooler, I always line the bottom with the frozen stuff, a layer of newspaper and then the non-frozen items so I don’t need to use ice. But, I want ice when I get there. And so we always stop for these things; they just plain take up too much cooler space. Then it’s a quick trip up Highway 53 to the gravel road that leads to our jeep trail.

This picture is taken at the beginning of our jeep trail. It keeps the riff-raff out.

The road improves to this, and gets more wooded as we proceed.

Then, we keep our eyes out for the marsh marigolds. We only saw one in bloom;

things are behind this year, the rest were just budding. Nor did we see the normal “blush of green” on the trees. It is a late spring up here. We keep our eyes peeled, looking for birds, signs of deer, and all of the things we know on this road like the back of our hand.

Then, we are there! The first thing I do is jump out of the car and run to the deck. This is what I saw.

Then, it’s time for a cocktail before we get to work. The next order of business is to turn on the LP gas tank (250 gallon permanent tank) and get the Servel fridge started and light the pilots on the stove. Usually, we leave the food in the cooler until the fridge has cooled down, but since it was about 40 degrees in the cabin, I went ahead and loaded up the fridge. The kids race around the cabin checking out their favorite things and spots, and head outside and run to the point.

Meantime, Paul has built a fire in the soapstone stove. The cabin is cold. It is 40 degrees inside, only 44 outside. That means that everything in the cabin is 40 degrees. The floor. The interior of the cupboards. The core of the mattresses. The toilet paper. Everything.

A quick perusal of the cupboards revealed that the staples we have left are in good shape, all except the unopened little jar of mayo. This is what mayo looks like after a winter in a cabin that has probably seen 50 degrees below zero.

Our friends (my closes friend, her husband and two kids) arrive about 6:30, and it’s time for the kids to race around, and dinner. Since we are all at the end of the week, Susan and I have decided on an appetizery meal. Veggies and spinach dip (homemade); scallops two ways (plain seared, and marinated in chili garlic sauce and seared); a couple of pounds of cooked, peeled, tail on shrimp and a jazzed up cocktail sauce; AlexP’s wonderful White Gazpacho; tapenade and Breadsmith baguettes; Maida Heatter’s Pecan Passion Bars. Cocktails and white wine for the adults, root beer for the kids. Games of Uno and Milles Bornes for the kids, lots of telling stories and talking politics for the adults. At midnight, we all pour into bed.

Although the day dawns sunny, no one stirs until about 9:00 am. Then, it is strong coffee before breakfast, which was 2 lbs. of great breakfast sausages (from the Miltona meat market; they are our favorite breakfast sausages), waffles on my Nordicware stovetop waffle makers (I have two up there), juice and milk. Either butter and syrup or yogurt with fresh sliced strawberries to top the waffles. These wafflemakers are great if you have a gas stove. Recovery time is almost instant.

Kids race. Boys (big and small) fish. Susan and I get put recliners out, wrap up in blankets and knit, talk, work crossword puzzles. Heidi bops here and there. Lunch is cut up veggies; fruit (including a great yellow watermelon); sandwiches with deli meat, assorted breads, 3 different mustards, hellman’s. Snacks include more fruit, veggies and chips and salsa. Purchased salsa because we’re lazy and real tomatoes are not yet available. Susan and I decide it’s time for gin and tonics.

Here is a picture of the kitchen. On either side of the corner cupboard, you will note the Humphrey gas lights. They, too, work off of the LP gas tank. We do have a small generator (Honda), which we rarely use because it’s noisy.

Turning around, here is a picture of the living/dining room area. Paul is reading on the green chair. Out the door is a screen porch with roll-up canvas shades to protect the room when it storms. It is cold enough that we have not opened them.

There are also two bedrooms; one with a queen-sized bed and one with a bunk bed (double-bed sized bunks). BTW, by now, the cabin is about 80 degrees. All that fire, cooking, breathing and kids running around.

Paul and I walk the road, and there is a neighbor with a spare pair of waders (we only have one pair). It is time to put the dock in. Paul wants to wait. He’s a water wimp. I am not. Without the dock, it is not right. So waders on, we take our version of the American Gothic photo.

Yes, this is food related. Without my cup o at the end of the dock in the am, my day is not right. The dock goes from the shore to the first rock (you’ll see that later). As Paul and I start to haul the 16’ aluminum frame sections out, I hear Susan say “I think this is like wallpapering. Something people married to each other shouldn’t do together.” Not to worry. Paul and I have been doing this together for more years than we have had children. There is nary a cross word that passes our lips. We work in sync. I can handle a socket and adjustable crescent wrench like a pro. Later, you will see the fruits of this numbing experience. I, being the braver of the two water-wise, gets the “seepy” pair of waders. My undies and socks are soaked. It is cold. My hands are beyong numb. Soon it’s time for the final meal of the day.

Dinner. Here is a picture. We have turned the generator on (and the radio up to drwon out the sound of said generator) so that we can see to cut meat for the younger ones.

Lots of people around a little table. Since we don’t have enough chairs, two children share seating on a Rubbermaid ActionPacker. Great for haulting stuff. Dinner was beef (black and blue on the grill), roasted new potatoes from the farmer’s market, roasted cauliflower, green beans with lemon juice and kosher salt, pinot noir (they took the recycling, so don’t remember what). For dessert, Susan and Nick make a dish of strawberries mascerated in balsamic topped with marscapone and whipped cream, garnished with lemon zest. Everything except dessert is minimally garnished and served family style. Oh, I did sautee a mess of shallots with a variety of mushrooms, deglazed with some of the pinot. Beef seasoned heavily with cracked black pepper. We play cards. We talk. Kids “roast” marshmallows over the gas burners for s’mores.

The kids start to nod, Terry takes out his guitar, and after a round of Puff the Magic Dragon and Trout Fishing in America’s “Lullaby,” they are out, and it’s the adults on the dock, shivering, telling yet more stories, quick trips to the outhouse and the Sandman for all.

Sunday morning dawns cloudy and I don’t want to get up. But the waft of coffee and the promise of Bacon gets my sorry ass out of bed, dressed and going. Bacon and buttermilk pancakes, juice and milk.

The day improves. The sun keeps peeking through more and more. There is a breeze, but barely. I finish knitting that square for the quilt. The call of the bathing suit is strong. Very strong. But, I steel myself with a cocktail for the water. The ice has only been out for about three weeks.

So, on it goes. I’m not alone. But, I am the first one in. Victory! Yes, that is me, arms raised, in the red/white stripped bikini. You can see the dock in it's full glory.

Passing fisherperson’s (donned in parka’s) think we’re crazy. They holler out that the SURFACE temp of the water is 46. I lie on the dock (face down, head hung over dock), saucepan on one hand and douse my head. Shampoo. Soap under the pits. I've learned that if you soap up, you have no choice but to go in. In the lake. Three steps and I’m all the way in. Quick swim back to the dock. On the dock. Towel in hand. The water is almost numbing. It is so good. I love it. In I go again. And again. And once again, for good measure.

It’s out for all of us. Bathing suits off, clothes on. Suits and towels drapped over the railings of the deck. Sandwiches and the last of the White Gazpacho and fruit. Susan and family pack it up. Paul and I start cleaning. That last load of dishes. Sweeping. Counters. Pack it all up.

I go out onto the deck for a last smoke and look.

I am often seen at this same place for many, many moments every summer.

No boats. Clothes off. In water.

We load up the car. Load in the kids. Just a few miles down the road, all three kids are asleep. Paul and I note along with the beautiful day, the "blush of green" has incrased. I nod off a bit later. We are all dreaming of the same thing. The coming season.

So, we have eaten good food. The kids have raced around. We have played cards. We have done crossword puzzles. We have told stories. We knit. We cooked. We hugged and kissed and breathed all in a small space. We have listened to KAXE and great tunes. We have played musical instruments and sang. We did not talk on the phone. We did not shop. We did not use a washing machine.

Summer is here. My life is so wonderful. Come the end-of-the-school-year, our Cabin schedule will be dictated by weather and nothing more.

We are really, really lucky. Home is still home. The players on Our Side of the Lake have changed (at 46, we're the "old timers"), but things are still the same. No commercial improvements. Just a good life, lived simply and in tune to what is happening outside. Look for the next installment In Our Adventure in just about two weeks.

[lovebenton0]

Wonderful!

Now I really have to do the gazpacho -- if you can do it at the cabin I can manage it here.

Where's the applause smilie?

[Mayhaw Man]

Wonderful. I'm glad that things were in good shape when you got there. I hate showing up at our camp and finding out that something has blown up, leaked, gone bad and started stinking, or has been broken into by the masked 4 legged bandits. It's nice when it is all o.k.

Now, to the next matter. There is no way I would purposely get into 46 F water unless I was the Captain of the ship and had already put all of the other passengers into the water and nothing on the ship was above the waterline. No way. Not ever.

Catch any fish?

[slbunge]

...waffles on my Nordicware stovetop waffle makers (I have two up there)...

I've always been intrigued by the stovetop waffle maker at Al's Breakfast. Do yours work well?

Your post is fabulous. The start of your jeep path must be a bit daunting for the LP delivery truck!

I have the same question as Mayhaw Man...any fish? I assume if there were sunfish filets sauteeing in butter you would have snapped a picture.

[snowangel]

No fish. Not just us, either. Not even any bites. But, we have a whole summer to fish. And, it is fun to go fishing whether we catch fish or not.

And, I love the wafflemaker. It's great. Faster than an electric home model, and like I said, recovery time is instant. Low tech is good.

[SethG]

Great pictorial essay! I LOVE your fridge (and the rest of it too). And those waders! Or whatever you call them.

[snowangel]

And those waders! Or whatever you call them.

Yes, they are waders. They are handy to have around, at least at a cabin like ours. Being that Paul is kind of a cold water wimp, I took the leaky pair. They have a neat little pocket in the front, inside, at the top so one has a place for the socket and crescent wrenches and the nuts and bolts. Just make sure you drop these things into the pocket, not the waders themselves, because it's a bitch to get them out of the feet. And, be prepared, when you wear them for that tight feeling that comes with the water pressure as you wade in. This was the first year neither one of us dropped a nut or bolt into the lake, which is really unfortunate. Hands are already almost numb from the water and cold metal, and I inevitably end up with arm in the water, a little too low, with water rushing into the waders. I think I need to ask Paul for a new pair for my birthday or our anniversary (so romantic).

Although Paul thinks I'm pretty fetching in my waders, he did mention that I was even more fetching in my bathing suit.

[Mayhaw Man]

Blueberries! I hadn't even thought about that!

I know nothing of the strange and mystifying habits of the people and plants that live in the North Woods.

What is the season? July? August?

Might I have a shot in mid July at "End of the World as We Know it Lake"? That would be very nice, and increase my baking options greatly.

[snowangel]

Blueberries! I hadn't even thought about that!

I know nothing of the strange and mystifying habits of the people and plants that live in the North Woods.

What is the season? July? August?

Might I have a shot in mid July at "End of the World as We Know it Lake"? That would be very nice, and increase my baking options greatly.

Brooks, the End of The World As You Know it (or I Know It) is in the arctic circle, which I have canoed). We won't even talk about bugs up there except to say it is "sit, shit and git."

Back to blueberries. Time depends on weather. I usually, in far Northern MN figure late July. But, what one looks for is fairly recently logged areas with lots of granite outcroppings. But, depending on weather and geographical considerations, bring a bucket of two with lids (those 5 quart ice cream pails are ideal; so you feed 5 quarts of crappy ice cream to a bunch of kids who don't know the difference...).

Should you get blueberries and not eat all of them on the spot or use them in pancakes or muffins, freeze them UNWASHED.

[Smithy]

Should you get blueberries and not eat all of them on the spot or use them in pancakes or muffins, freeze them UNWASHED.

Snowangel, I hope this doesn't sound argumentative, but - why not wash them first? I haven't tried this with wild blueberries - there are never any left! - but with fresh blueberries and wild raspberries I've tried both methods and concluded that I much prefer washing them first. The freeze-first method has been to freeze the berries spread out on a cookie sheet and then throw them into a freezer bag after they're frozen. The problem with this method has been that when I wash them later, before use, they all clump together in a new frozen mass unless I let them thaw first, but if I thaw them first they're too soft and messy to wash. The wash-first method goes like this: wash gently, spread across dish towels on a cookie sheet until dry (or barely damp), then spread across an unlined cookie sheet and freeze. Put frozen berries into a storage container. Then they're ready for use and much less hassle. I haven't been able to tell any quality difference, and the pre-washed berries are much easier to handle when it's time to cook. So...have you tried both ways? What's the drawback to washing the wild berries first? (Maybe they're too tender?) Enquiring minds and all that...

I am thoroughly enjoying this thread. I snapped a photo yesterday of the first blush of spring around Babbitt, not too far south of your cabin, but by the time I get the film developed and the photo scanned, assuming it's worth sharing, you'll no doubt have seen it for yourself. A Finnish friend of mind told me once that the Finns have a name for this particular two-week-or-so season when the woods have a delicate watercolor wash of green over them: disregarding the spelling, which may be wildly off, she called it sher grynska i.e. "sheer green". If she was pulling my leg, I don't want to know. It certainly deserves its own designation.

[snowangel]

Smithy, I'm almost embarrassed to say that I just flat don't wash the berries. If I wash them and lay them out on trays at the cabin, I have to put them on the screen porch. Two things happen. The kids inadvertently walk on them (no tables) or sit on them (if I put the trays on the chairs). Which leads to either hours of cleaning up blueberry ick on the floors on the cabin, deck and screen porch, or cleaning blueberry ick off of furniture in the cabin (transferred via shorts or we bathing suits -- the latter being the worse). The other thing that has happened is that they've eaten so many they've gotten the runs, which is really, really, really no fun with an outhouse on a moon-less night at 2:00 am because, naturally, no one ever puts a flashlight where one can find it. And, on those weekends that Paul brings the bulk of the berries back on a Sunday night, leaving the kids and I to frolic while he works at a job, pays the bills and mows the lawn, I just don't trust him to do justice to the berries. Bottom line is that they must be DRY before freezing.

And, I love the term "sheer green" even more than "blush of green." It was wonderful to watch the island across the lake change from "no green" to "sheer green" and to be in the water to look at that miracle (looking from in the water was brief, mind you).

Edited May 25, 2004 by snowangel (log)

[snowangel]

Since we didn't go to The Cabin this weekend, I started today out with a cup o coffee on the deck instead of the dock, and we had blueberry pancakes (buttermilk) for breakfast, using almsot all of the last of the blueberries we picked last year.

Blueberry plants are amazing. Best picking, at least in our neck of the woods, is best on granite outcropings that have been recently logged. There isn't a lot of soil where we pick. The fact that these plants, and the pines growing nearby, can gain a foothold, much less grow, is amazing. The point next to our cabin has a few blueberry plants, but nothing ever more than a scant batch of pancakes.

We are hoping for another good year. They seem to require: no deep freeze after the buds set; adequate rain after the fruit sets and starts to grow. In the almost 23 years I have been blueberry picking up north, only two years have been so disappointing we just cracked open half-warm cans of beer and called it a year. It seems that the more biting bugs there are, the more blueberries we will reap. The wild raspberries are usually in season at the same time which is a real treat. They are unbelievably seedy, but remarkably tasty.

These things are late July/early August. My birthday is August 2, and we always plan a long cabin stay around this most auspicious of occasions. And, we can usually count on this to be blueberry season. It is also prime swimming and Northern Lights season.

We return to The Cabin next Friday with the kids to celebrate our 23rd wedding anniversary. We honeymooned at The Cabin. Hopefully, the kids will be tired and go to sleep early and the water will be warmer than 46 degrees.

[snowangel]

We have decided against returning to The Cabin this weekend. This goes against our grain, but it has been very cold and very rainy Up North. Keeping Heidi out of the lake is difficult, and she does not understand hypothermia.

So, we will stay in town for the next couple of weeks and put in a fence, to keep Heidi safe. And, till up a garden to keep me sane.

At that point, the water will be warm enough and the kids will be out of school so we can do the cabin thing right. Not runs up Friday nights and runs home on Sunday evernings, but runs based on weather and orthodontia appointments. Once we take care of things like the fence and school, our time is ours (except for Paul, who will mow, work and pay the bills).

In the meantime, and in anticipation of the coming season, I have posted my recipe for Blueberry Pie on RecipeGullet. It is a good recipe which combines the best of fresh and the succulent of cooked. This recipe also works for raspberries, but with the latter, the cooked mixture is best sieved to remove seeds.

[Smithy]

Snowangel, thank you for posting your blueberry pie recipe, and for posting a pointer to it! I can hardly wait to try it, even with domestic blueberries!

A friend who spends her summers at her cabin in northern Ontario - a hundred or two miles north of yours - makes her blueberry pie without corn starch; she just loads those wild blueberries into a pie shell, puts a crumb topping over the lot, and bakes. It falls into a bazillion little delicious berries when you cut into it, but oh, what a fabulous flavor. Since then I've made my pies the same way. (Who cares about the looks?!) Then, one horrid weekend last year, a friend who does the occasional favor for me asked me not to bother bringing any more pies for him as thank you gifts to be shared - or else to bring store bought. Hoping he was only joking, I brought a Perkins pie (bleah) the next time and he couldn't sing its praises enough. I won't try to thank the ungrateful heathen with my baked goods again, but if I find another unsuspecting soul I'll have another recipe to try.

Edited to add: can you/do you make this pie with your berries after you've frozen them, or only when they're fresh?

Edited June 11, 2004 by Smithy (log)

[snowangel]

I have made the recipe with previously frozen blueberries, and it works just fine. It doesn't have that something that it does when we've just picked the berries (I bake the pie shell before we go picking), but then again, part of it is making the pie and talking about the picking we have just done.

What I like about this one is that a good portion of the berries haven't been cooked at all, some of them have been cooked, so there's a nice combo there of the sweetened "goop" and the pop of the raw berries. I also posted my recipe for raspberry pie; it's very similar, but the technique is just a bit different.

We will finally head north again next weekend. We have been busy in our new house, and since it isn't drying out enough here to get either a garden or fence in (it has been raining at least an inch every other day ), we just as well be up north. Hopefully, the water will be a bit warmer so we can do some real swimming (we are hardy). And, if it's rainy, we can have a "do nothing" weekend -- no painting, no plumbing. Just playing cards, reading, napping and listening to KAXE. But, cross your fingers for a nice weekend a week hence. And, we've done enough around this house to get it in shape for lots of long cabin stays in July and August. I need my cuppa coffee on the dock in the mornings. Peter says it makes me a happier Mommy.

[snowangel]

We have changed our plans. We can't stand it anymore, so we head north late tomorrow afternoon. I've had it with waiting for the yard to dry out enough to till a garden. Had it with picking rock out of what will be the front flower bed. Had it with the kids whining. Had it with life without my cuppa at the end of the dock.

So, tomorrow, immediately after yoga class, I will make a quick trip to the farmer's market for greens and new potatos. Gas up the car, check the oil, replenish the washer fluid (for bug removal on the way up). Stop and pick up the odd stuff I need (stuff like a couple more kinds of vinegar and mustard). Get home. Hopefully, Peter and Diana will have done their tasks -- pack, pick up in the house, finished laundry, and at least started to mow the lawn. I will pick up Heidi, and sit the kids down for a nice, big meal that will hold them through the truck packing, waiting for Daddy and drive to the cabin.

While they are eating, I will finish the packing.

We will be there three nights, but Thursday night doesn't really count for a meal (just munchies) since we won't get there until sometime after 10:00 pm.

Meal plan includes:

3 lbs. of bacon from the meat market for breakfasts. One breakfast will be waffles on the oh-so-wonderful Nordicware stovetop waffle makers. Other mornings will include eggs, cinnamon rolls (if we feel like baking bread) or muffins or crumb cake or something. I think I'll throw in some breakfast sausages for good measure.

Lunches. I have that last piece of venison summer sausage that needs to be eaten. I'll pick up some cheese -- I don't think I have time to get to someplace good, so it might just be from the supermarket. Fruit, cut-up veggies.

Dinners. Burgers one night (I have some great ground chuck, ground for me, purchased today). The last of the venison hotdogs one night. I'll do something with the new potatos I will get -- probably get enough to do something with them both nights, but different preps each night. Perhaps roasted one night and a vinegarette salad one night? I'll see what strikes me. And, I'll fill in with whatever other veggies look good. Plus fruit. If I can get some nice local strawberries at the farmer's market, I think we will have strawberry shortcake one night. Part of the perishable menu will depend on what I can get at the farmer's market.

For munchies. Spanish peanuts. Those hint of jalapeno tortilla chips I've become rather fond of. Diana wants to make either those Maida Heatter heath bar brownies or cookies with Shrek mini M & M's tomorrow.

That covers it. The bathing suits are already at the cabin. We have bug junk. We have booze. We have a fully charged camera with an empty card in it. We have the desire. We feel the need.

Come 4:00 pm ish tomorrow night, it will be pedal to the metal, headed north (a day ahead of the regular traffic). The only things that slow us down are traffic jams and deadwood on our jeep trail.

We will make only one stop on the way up. Unless we leave home in the morning and stop at White Castle for breakfast, the kids have learned that we do not stop on the way up. They are as hot to trot as we are. Cook, MN for milk, ice, eggs and bait.

Somewhere south of Duluth, we will tune into the UMD blues station. As we get north of Virginia, we start searching for KAXE on the radio.

Come hell or high water, we will be having cocktails on the deck tomorrow night. 24 hours from right now, I hope to be IN the lake, the silky water massaging my body. In silence. Looking up at an unbelievable display of stars and the milky way.

[maggiethecat]

Come hell or high water, we will be having cocktails on the deck tomorrow night. 24 hours from right now, I hope to be IN the lake, the silky water massaging my body. In silence. Looking up at an unbelievable display of stars and the milky way.

My dear Snowy, thank you for giving me a happy go-to-bed thought. I'm intensely jealous, but I'll try to close my eyes and see those stars.

Blessings on your weekend.

[lovebenton0]

Have a cuppa for me on the dock -- I had a drink for you on the beach the other night! Mine was NA but it's the thought that counts!

And maybe a waffle, too?

Will be waiting for The Cabin report when you return, as always.

[snowangel]

Paul and I have been going to the cabin since 1976. Diana and Heidi have been going since they were each two weeks old. Peter was a bit older, simply because I was not ready for a winter trip with a newborn. We have never been disappointed. In stormy weather, we can watch them roll in. In great weather, we languish by the lake.

So, when Paul rolled in on Thursday evening, the kids were in the car. We were more than ready. Paul was hungry part way up, so we had sliders at the White Castle in Hinkley. A lot of them. Fries and onion chips, all washed down with coke.

We arrived at The Cabin just before 10:00 pm. It is light much later -- at least 40 minutes later -- than here in The Cities. Because the sky is "so big," the glimmer of light lasts until after 10:00 pm. It is cold and windy. But, it is clear, and we can pick out constellations.

We have cocktails and snacks, and play charades. Tumble into bed.

The next day dawns. The view from the deck is much greener than it was just over a month ago:

Here is a picture of the cabin

On the left side (as you are looking at the photo) is a screen porch. In the middle of the cabin is the living room. On the right side is the kitchen. Between the two is the dining room table; there are no walls on the front half of the cabin. Behind these rooms are the bedrooms. The cabin used to sit closer to the lake, on cement blocks (set as posts). Many, many years ago, we excavated some behind the cabin, filled it in with sand and put in a fairly real foundation, so we don't have the heave-ho we used to have, and no longer have to get out a jack, level and shims to make everything square every spring.

The day begins with coffee

We use a melita drip over a thermos thing. We do have a small generator, and the one luxury I induge in is fresh ground coffee every morning. Does anyone know what that other contraption is (the one in front of the thermos?

For breakfast, I cook up a pound and a half of bacon and make waffles in our nifty nordicware stove-top waffle maker. The thing is great. They are quite expensive from nordicware, but I have bought several at places like Goodwill. We topped them with yogurt and strawberries.

While we were waiting for the sun to come out and the wind to die down (it never did), the kids and I made cookies with Shrek mini-m&m's. They were really yummy. We don't have a cooling rack at The Cabin, so I do what my grandmother did. Put them on a brown paper bag. Works just fine.

For lunch, we had sandwiches and fruit and cut-up veggies, plus the leftover roasted asparagus from two nights ago.

A perusal of the yard reveals that the Strawberries are in bloom. These will be little. The flowers are maybe 1/4" across. Very seedy, but so flavorful they put all other's to shame.

We notice that the roses are starting to bloom. This bush is totally entwined in a clump of birches. What should I do with the rose hips?

The kids and I took a few walks to th point. The Point is amazing. Granite slabs melting into the lake. Granite cliffs with Zen-like trees growing in almost nothing. It is a perfect playground. Full of nooks and cranies. Fairy lands. The stuff of which dreams are made.

It is late in the day. Diana is standing on the part where the granite melts.

She and Peter are standing by our favorite tree on the point.

We note that the wild columbines are blooming. Keep in mind that there is very little soil on top of these huge granite slabs.

We have waited to see if the wind would die down (there are white caps on the lake ) before getting into the water. We all have the shortest, quickest swims we have had in years.

After our swim, we had dinner. The last of the venison weiners, kraut, home-made baked beans. A really good watermelon. Nothing fancy. Just simple. Then it is the radio, games and bed.

We had a repeat of the same breakfast on Saturday morning. No reason to mess with success.

Lunch. Same as the day before. The remainder of the last hunk of venison summer sausage. Should the year continue, there will be venison on the table again this coming fall. We have seen many on our drive in, and signs of many of them near the cabin.

It is still windy. It is Saturday night. It is cold. We contemplate a fire. Heidi is wearing footed fleece jammies. The wind calms down. So, in the half-light, we suit her up. Peter, Diana and I suit up. It is windier than we thought. We drop Heidi over the side of the dock, and her knees comes to her chest. She is out in a split second. I have hung head over the side of the dock, wet and soaped hair. The fisherperson's not far away think we're crazy. One dip and I, once again, know that I am crazy. Three dips -- they were short -- but the water was divine.

Back in and dressed.

We have had a wonderful weekend. We left early on Sunday morning and had breakfast on the way to drop Diana off at camp. We have played games. Worked crossword puzzles. Listened to the radio. Watched the birds (lots of hummingbirds this weekend, and the bonus Bald Eagle and Blue Heron). Told stories. Napped. Cooked. Watched the dragonflies flitting and landing on the cement walk when it was sunny. Laid on the deck late a night and picked out constellations.

I leave you with a sunset picture. It is not the best; the sky is often more vivid, but this one of the things that it is all about.

They were playing Weather Report on Kaxe as I took this photo. When was the last time you heard Weather Report on the radio?

Edited June 23, 2004 by snowangel (log)

[Toasted]

I believe the contraption thingy is a toast maker?