Hermit for a day

With all the depressing news we've had lately, I decided to become a hermit and spend 24 hours at the cabin.  Mandy and I went back sometime after 8 o'clock Friday evening.  I took a cooler with a few food items, my camera, of course, and an old popcorn popper I'd bought years ago at a garage sale and never used... it's the kind with a thing on the lid that you turn.   I make popcorn in the microwave, here at the house.  After applying lots of insect repellant (the mosquitoes are terrible there), Mandy and I had popcorn together on my little deck while listening to some of my cabin CDs.  There's a radio with the CD player too, but I don't listen to it.  I've had enough news lately to last a lifetime.

I got up around six A.M., and went outside, with Mandy following me.  Usually when she and I sleep at the cabin, we head back home as soon as I wake up; it was hard to make her understand that we weren't going yet.  She kept heading toward the house, looking back over her shoulder at me as if to say, "Come on; it's time to go home."

I left my camper coffee-pot in the camper after the fair, folded down inside the popup.  Therefore, I made coffee by boiling water in a pan, dumping the grounds in, turning off the burner, and waiting for the grounds to settle.  The coffee wasn't bad!  The trick is to toss out the last couple of drinks at the bottom of your cup.  I fixed a BLT for breakfast, frying an extra piece of bacon for Mandy.  I ran into a problem here:  I realized I have no knife at the cabin, and I had to hack my poor tomato apart with a spoon, in order to make a sandwich.  No problem, it tasted good.

The cooking I did required some dishwashing afterward, so while I had nice warm, soapy water, I wiped off all the surfaces well, removing any final traces of the mouse who once staked his claim there.  He must have been the only mouse there, because the mouse-poison I've put in strategic places hasn't been touched.

Mandy and I walked on paths in the dew-soaked grass.  At one point a deer jumped across in front of us, his white flag raised in alarm.  If it wasn't for Cliff spending many hours mowing each spring and summer, the sumac would take the place.  I truly appreciate his efforts, even though I've been known to tell him he worries too much about how it looks back there.  At this time of year I won't venture into the deep woods on account of ticks and snakes, so if it weren't for the paths he keeps open, I'd have noplace to walk. 

I heard the tractor in the distance around mid-morning and went to see what Cliff was doing; he was harrowing, making final preperation for the alfalfa seed and fertilizer.  I took a picture, waved at him, and walked away. 

We had decided at one point to plant clover instead... the seed is so much cheaper... but in the end we shelled out the money for alfalfa.  In a good year, we'll get four cuttings of hay from alfalfa.  Clover doesn't give that much yield.  Now we just have to hold our breath and pray for gentle rain to get the seeds started.

Back at the cabin I read, had myself a hot dog roast, and generally soaked up the peace... until I heard voices in the distance, getting closer and closer.  It was my two granddaughters, as well as Anna next door.  We visited awhile, Monica and Natalie drank my supply of tea and ate most of my cookies, fussed a bit as usual.... and then we heard a vehicle approaching!  It was Anna's mom looking for her daughter.  She was astounded that I had a cabin in the woods.  "You don't need to go to the lake for vacation, do you?"  she said, laughing.

The visitors more or less brought me back to reality, and I decided to return to civilization.  I had planned on staying 24 hours, but in the end it was 19 hours, all told. 

I helped Cliff put electric fence around the alfalfa field until almost dark, and thus ended another perfect day in my country life.