tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-157770732011-11-13T17:58:32.104-05:00This was an accident.danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.comBlogger591100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-45862724332440574172011-11-11T02:15:00.002-05:002011-11-11T02:24:39.650-05:00

At Grandad & Carolyn's, Ross and I would stay in the guest bedroom where there was a large bed that we had to share. There was a little folding stand which could be unfolded to accommodate a suitcase. On the far side of the bed was a little alarm clock radio on the bedside table. The ceiling slanted down to meet the walls where roof sloped into the space of the room. The bed was comfortable and

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-81395147596773122512010-11-11T23:46:00.002-05:002010-11-12T00:11:29.949-05:00

Grandad & Carolyn's house had a sort of balcony on the second story which was accessible via a door at the top of the stairs. This door was always closed and usually locked. But nothing interests young kids as much as a place they're not supposed to go, so we always wanted to go out on the balcony. It didn't matter so much that we were told the roof might not support us and we could come crashing

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-27428945686823573792009-11-11T00:11:00.008-05:002009-11-12T13:07:29.872-05:00

When Ross and I went up to Wisconsin to visit Grandad one summer, we were there for a pretty long time. Grandad thought up several things to do to keep us busy and interested so we wouldn't find too much trouble to get into. When he announced that we were going to a place called the Wisconsin Dells where we would take a boat tour, it sounded supremely boring to my young mind, not to mention the

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-48460578476627219702008-11-11T17:33:00.000-05:002008-11-11T17:35:47.676-05:00

Grandad and Carolyn came to visit us when we lived in Buffalo. I was probably five years old and Ross was six or seven. I think they flew there from Racine via Milwaukee or Chicago. When they left we must have gone to the airport to see them off. I don't remember it, but we might have left the airport building, driven to an observation spot and watched for their plane to take off. That's

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-90632823783627506792007-11-11T23:55:00.000-05:002008-12-09T10:47:41.064-05:00

When my brother and I went up to the shack with Grandad and Uncle Bill that summer, Grandad brought along an old green outboard motor. I think it was four or five horsepower and it might have been a Johnson. Ross and I were quite excited on the day we mounted it on the back of the aluminum rowboat. Even though rowing was a more than adequate means of locomotion to get to any part of the lake,

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1163276294992720752006-11-13T15:16:00.000-05:002006-11-11T15:39:20.986-05:00

One evening after one of Carolyn's tasty dinners, we retired to the living room. Some logs were added to the fire and after the appropriate amount of stoking and adjusting, the fire perked up and was giving off a relaxing warmth. Coffee was served and a great feeling of well being and satisfaction seemed to settle down over us. Grandad sat for a while with his eyes almost closed, taking

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1131886786138897212005-11-13T07:48:00.000-05:002005-11-13T08:22:09.343-05:00

I wrote earlier about some breakfasts of overcooked fried eggs that grandad cooked at the shack. Those breakfasts were not very good. I was talking to my dad about that, and he remembered that the fried eggs would be cooked so much that the yolks somehow took on a green color and an unpleasant smell. The only way he could eat them would be to completely cover them with ketchup.But not all

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1131705815244660832005-11-11T05:39:00.000-05:002005-11-11T09:01:33.430-05:00

My friend Ali lives in Wisconsin and frequently goes up north to the Ashland and Bayfield area. She drives right by Phillips when she goes, so I asked her to stop by Lake Kemosabe and see if the cabin was still standing. In August, she and her friend and their dogs paid a visit to the shack, which was indeed still standing. Not only did they visit and report that the place was still standing,

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1131627171771115612005-11-11T00:00:00.000-05:002005-11-11T13:35:06.790-05:00

One thing I always liked about Wisconsin was the weather. I liked the wide range of different types of weather. In the summer, there were some mild breezy days, and some windless sunny sweltering days. Sometimes in the middle of summer, the nights would be hot, but in early or late summer, the nights might be cool, even if the days were hot. In the winter, or even late autumn, the temperature

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1131463263356925162005-11-08T10:20:00.000-05:002005-11-08T10:21:03.370-05:00

When my brother and I were assigned the task of mowing grandad's lawn, we would usually split the task. One of us would mow the front and sides and one would mow the back. We would often argue about who would get to do the front. The back yard had trees, the swing, usually a lawn table and chairs, the charcoal grill and various other obstacles to mow around or under, or have to move, mow, then

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1129434431970648632005-10-12T23:59:00.000-04:002005-10-15T23:48:36.333-04:00

Sometimes it seemed like grandad enjoyed visits from his grandsons mostly because he could get them to do lots of work. My brother Ross and I had the privilege of fertilizing, mowing and raking grandad's lawn, weeding his garden, washing his car, splitting and stacking his firewood and many other delightful tasks. Sometimes we would be assigned such a task and it would take us longer to complete

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1129107425261266072005-10-11T23:59:00.000-04:002005-10-12T05:10:25.806-04:00

One of the first years I went hunting with grandad, there were a bunch of other hunters at the cabin, so it seemed kind of crowded. It was fun in a way because it was a boisterous, macho, competitive atmosphere, but I also felt some pressure to act in a social and manly kind of way. Sometimes the other hunters would tease me because I was young and an inexperienced hunter. Or worse, they would be

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128991945866561892005-10-10T20:46:00.000-04:002005-10-11T00:58:21.750-04:00

If a grandson's performance at some assigned task was not up to par, grandad might say something like, "You know what you are? You're a drismal!""You know what a drismal is?"Without waiting for a reply, grandad would explain, "A drismal is a combination of a drip and a dismal." Then he would chuckle.If a grandson did something that didn't seem very intelligent to grandad, he might say something

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128894399069825372005-10-09T17:40:00.000-04:002005-10-09T17:46:39.076-04:00

The table in the main room of the shack had a hinge in the middle, so it could be folded up onto itself, but I don't recall if I ever saw it folded up like that. Usually it had a lot of stuff on it, and was dusty and dirty when we would arrive. It was my job to throw away anything useless, and move the rest to the far end, then wipe off the clear space so we'd have some place to put things when

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128803911581581782005-10-08T16:30:00.000-04:002005-10-08T16:38:31.590-04:00

While grandad's cooking style did no favors for a fried egg breakfast, it seemed well suited to a hearty north woods supper. I think every time I went hunting with him, he would pick out a big corned beef brisket at the IGA grocery store during a trip to town for supplies. He'd put it in a large oval enamelware roaster in the morning, add some water, put the lid on and leave it on the wood stove

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128705424863054162005-10-07T13:16:00.000-04:002005-10-08T18:02:12.126-04:00

The first few mornings I was at the shack with grandad during hunting season, he made breakfast. His cooking style was what one might call rough and ready. It sometimes seemed less than appetizing to me. He would usually make fried eggs, and those eggs were really fried. They tended to be somewhat crispy on the edges, kind of rubbery all around and cooked solid through and through. I did my best

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128604980669829432005-10-06T09:20:00.000-04:002005-10-06T09:56:52.453-04:00

Grandad always had a good plan for the morning when I went hunting with him at the cabin. He would say something like, "We'll get up at five, have a cup of coffee, and head out to the woods. We'll be able to get in position and be ready before sunrise. We can stay out for a few hours, then come back in around eight thirty or nine and have a nice leisurely breakfast."He'd get me to wind up the

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128515749193467502005-10-05T08:32:00.000-04:002005-10-05T08:35:49.203-04:00

I was staying at the cabin alone for a while after Carl left. Sleeping became more difficult after he left. The mice in the cabin became much more active at night, scurrying around in the attic, up and down the walls and across the floor. There were rustling and gnawing noises that started soon after I went to bed. When there were two of us, I don't remember hearing so much activity at night. I

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128435042988934212005-10-04T10:03:00.000-04:002005-10-04T10:10:43.000-04:00

When Carl and I came to the cabin, we intended to stay for a while, and we didn't have much money, so we bought some cheap bulk food, like oatmeal, rice and beans. We also tried to grow a little garden, and find as much wild food as possible. I think we had a guide book for edible plants, or maybe we just took some notes from one in the library. Not only was finding food in the forest appealing

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128337431527713972005-10-03T06:50:00.000-04:002005-10-03T07:04:50.196-04:00

During our summer visit to the cabin in the early eighties with uncle Bill and grandad, my brother and I each had a little project. At least I think we did, because I had a little project, and I remember my brother doing something else while I was working on mine, but I don't remember what his project was. My project was building a birdhouse.There were a few scraps of plywood next to the wood

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128246724634448832005-10-02T05:43:00.000-04:002005-10-02T05:57:24.523-04:00

There were already some rolls of roofing felt and asphalt at the cabin when Carl and I got there, but it didn't look like it would be enough to do the most pressing roofing work. We bought some additional roofing materials at the hardware store in town.Carl did the actual roof work, while I handed things up to him, and cleared away debris that fell down. It looked like there were three or four

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128160488030405192005-10-01T05:53:00.000-04:002005-10-01T05:54:48.036-04:00

One day while Carl and I were at the cabin, the stove stopped working. It didn't take us too long to figure out that we had run out of gas. We drove into town later that day and went to the gas place. I think it was across the street from the IGA grocery store. We ordered a replacement cylinder of gas, and told them where the cabin was.They had a showroom area with some gas appliances. There were

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1128065640562248972005-09-30T03:24:00.000-04:002005-09-30T13:17:59.950-04:00

There was no electricity, telephone or running water at the cabin, but it did have an old red outhouse. Originally, I think the outhouse was about thirty yards from the cabin. On a cold night, or at certain other times, that always seemed a little too far to me. It had a bit of a lean to it, and sometimes the whole thing seemed to shift slightly when one sat down. When I used it, I sometimes got

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127993202568522062005-09-29T07:22:00.000-04:002005-09-29T07:36:20.650-04:00

A lot of times on the way back to grandad's house after deer hunting at the shack, I would see cars heading back south with a deer strapped to the roof or across the trunk or even the hood. We always brought some extra rope or clothes line to tie a deer to the roof if one of us got one, but the only thing we ever came back with strapped to the roof was Christmas trees. That was usually the last

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127900613927456172005-09-28T05:35:00.000-04:002005-09-28T05:48:09.176-04:00

It was almost exactly three hundred miles from grandad's house to the cabin. Driving up there could take anywhere from five to eight hours, depending on traffic, weather and the inclination of the driver. For many of the years I went up to the cabin with grandad, he had an AMC Eagle station wagon. It had four wheel drive which could be turned on and off. That four wheel drive turned out to be

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127816421511398752005-09-27T06:19:00.000-04:002005-09-27T06:20:21.516-04:00

When going to the cabin, it was always a good idea to bring food along, or stop in town on the way in, and stock up. There was usually some food in the kitchen, but it was hard to tell how good any of it was. The canned food was questionable because it had usually been frozen in the winter and thawed in spring. Any boxes of cereal or pancake mix might have a little hole in the bottom where mice

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127717707249468242005-09-26T02:50:00.000-04:002005-09-26T03:03:18.153-04:00

When my brother and I visited grandad and Carolyn in Racine in the summer, one of the things we did a lot of was work in the garden. Grandad liked to take advantage of our visits to get as much "stoop work" done as possible. We did weeding, some planting, digging and turning over dirt, spreading fertilizer, watering, harvesting if anything was ready and more weeding. We both favored the digging

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127631896345921132005-09-25T02:59:00.000-04:002005-10-02T08:44:38.110-04:00

After Paul, Jörg and I returned from our slightly misadventurous boat trip up to and over the beaver dam and back, during which light springtime rain turned to light springtime snow, it took us some time around the wood stove to warm up and dry off. Having satisfied our need for shelter and warmth, we realized our need for food was becoming paramount.I went into the kitchen and scanned the cans

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127550383584678392005-09-24T04:19:00.000-04:002005-09-29T08:40:40.206-04:00

The first time I went deer hunting at the shack with grandad, there were a lot of other hunters there. I think there were four other hunters staying in the cabin with us, and two or three others in a camper on the back of a pickup truck that was parked outside. In later years, there were not so many other guys, which I liked better. It was more fun for me to hang out with grandad without so many

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127457389835073562005-09-23T02:28:00.000-04:002005-09-23T02:42:36.316-04:00

When my brother, uncle Bill, grandad and I arrived at the shack, the screens on the formerly screened in porch were mostly rusted away. Grandad decided that one of the projects of the visit would be to put some new screen up. I wasn't really sure what the point of screening in the porch would be. The porch wasn't very big, and it was pretty full of shelves, an antique ice box, a table, cans of

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127374761582155452005-09-22T03:38:00.000-04:002005-09-22T03:39:21.590-04:00

Grandad always liked to extract the maximum amount of work from my brother and I when we visited. We would mow the lawn, split and stack firewood, weed the garden, pick apples from his tree and do various other "stoop work." So when we went up to the shack with uncle Bill and Grandad, one of the things we did was cut down some trees for firewood. Uncle Bill brought his chain saw, and he would cut

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127286937551696642005-09-21T03:14:00.000-04:002005-09-21T03:15:37.560-04:00

Uncle Bill and aunt JoAn (grandad's sister) would often come over to grandad's for dinner if we were there for a holiday, or we would visit them when we were in Racine. They lived on a street with a view of Lake Michigan. When my brother and I were pretty young, they got us a membership in the WWF and a subscription to Ranger Rick magazine. I think uncle Bill was involved in the yacht club, and

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127206173324482472005-09-20T04:46:00.000-04:002005-09-20T04:49:33.330-04:00

Uncle Bill was a teacher by trade. For a while, many years ago, on the morning of the last day of school, he would get up very early and pack his car for a trip to the shack. He would park his pre-packed car in the school parking lot, and as soon as classes finished, he'd walk out to his car and drive straight up to the shack. Grandad and some others would often drive up a few days later, or

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127117934610809652005-09-19T03:55:00.000-04:002005-09-19T11:28:31.956-04:00

Below is a view from above of the shack and the area around it. The approximate locations of some features previously mentioned are indicated with text and arrows. I'm not sure if the lake has an official name, but we called it Lake Kemosabe. It's fairly easy to see the logging road (the term road used in the loosest possible way) which went around to the logging camp. It's not as easy to make

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1127029918739348382005-09-18T03:50:00.000-04:002005-09-18T05:32:37.256-04:00

Uncle Bill, my great uncle, told me that many years ago, he was at the shack by himself and was shaving in the kitchen. There was a splash in the bowl of water he was using for shaving, and he looked down and saw a snake in the bowl. He looked up the wall where the snake had fallen from, and there was another snake on the wall which seemed to be looking down at the snake in the bowl. He said he

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126932171069375982005-09-17T00:41:00.000-04:002005-09-17T00:42:51.076-04:00

Part of the beauty of a cabin out in the middle of the north woods is the isolation. If you're there alone, it can seem like you are the only person in the world. And if you really were, there's not necessarily any way you would know it. That's usually a pretty good feeling, for me at least, but sometimes it can get to feeling a little spooky. Especially if you're sitting inside the cabin late at

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126856603356399192005-09-16T03:42:00.000-04:002005-09-16T03:43:23.363-04:00

It was a pretty long trip for Paul, Jörg and I to drive up to the cabin. We stopped at grandad's house in Racine. Jörg wore his Desert Storm baseball cap with the American flag on it to make a good impression. Then we drove the three hundred miles (almost exactly) from grandad's house to the cabin. We were driving my 1982 Honda Civic sedan. It was a five speed and got really great mileage, around

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126765530606798852005-09-15T02:24:00.000-04:002005-09-15T03:39:59.970-04:00

By the time I started flying up to Wisconsin during Thanksgiving break to go deer hunting with my grandad, he was already getting pretty old. He had been hunting for decades, but by then he wasn't exactly the most committed hunter. He seemed to be the backbone of the group of men who went up to the cabin to hunt, but I would sometimes hear them making jokes about how late grandad would get

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126679216166614332005-09-14T02:25:00.000-04:002005-09-14T02:26:56.173-04:00

Once when I was up at the cabin hunting with my grandad, we were walking across the dam heading back to the cabin. He pointed down to the edge of the swamp below the lake and said there was a spring there. He said they used to get water from the spring. Everything was frozen by the time deer hunting season came around, so it wasn't much use then, but when they came to the cabin in the spring and

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126588833938536152005-09-13T01:12:00.000-04:002005-09-13T01:33:09.523-04:00

Although we only had a limited amount of money, Carl bought an antique ratchet set at the estate auction we went to. I think he paid sixteen dollars for it, and though it was pretty cool, I didn't really understand why he was using some of our last monetary resources on an antique ratchet and sockets in a wooden box. He already had the requisite tools for a long trip in a Beetle with a recently

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126500147985826142005-09-12T00:35:00.000-04:002005-09-12T00:42:27.993-04:00

The roll of film upon which I had taken the picture of the falling tree and leaping Jörg went undeveloped for a long time. I finally developed it when I was living in a large closet in a house in Roser Park in Saint Petersburg. I developed the film in the kitchen sink with a little plastic film developing tank and some chemicals I had left over from school. But I had neither an enlarger, nor the

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126411504822337832005-09-11T00:01:00.000-04:002005-09-11T00:05:04.846-04:00

I was inside making some food, and I heard Jörg yelling loud enough to be heard inside. I went outside, and it was fairly dark, so I didn't see where he was at first, but Paul was bringing an armload of wood to the woodpile. Paul said something, but I didn't hear what he said at first because of the din of the chirping frogs. He spoke louder and said Jörg was over by the clearing cutting wood,

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126341867589240452005-09-10T04:42:00.000-04:002005-09-10T04:44:27.596-04:00

Jörg, Paul and I resolved to leave the cabin with more firewood than we found it with. Since we'd already had a few fires in the wood stove, we decided to look for a fairly big tree to cut down. As luck would have it, just beyond the clearing in front of the cabin, there was a thick birch which was mostly trunk. I'm not sure if it had been struck by lightning, had most of its branches blown off

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126332430830949232005-09-09T23:59:00.000-04:002005-09-24T23:52:51.353-04:00

One summer, about twenty years ago, my brother and I drove down to Florida from West Virginia in my white VW Beetle. I was too young to have my driver's license at the time, so he did all of the driving. We bought a carton of Dunhill cigarettes in North Carolina on the way down. Cigarettes were cheap in North Carolina, and we liked Dunhills. Neither of us smoked habitually, it was more like a

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126227449580713982005-09-08T20:55:00.000-04:002005-09-08T21:04:47.646-04:00

Carl and I saw a notice for an estate auction one weekend. Farm implements and tools were advertised, so we figured we might get a garden rake for not much money, and auctions are kind of intriguing anyway. It's an interesting way to see what the people are like in a given area. Auctions are also a great illustration of capitalism at its best and worst. You can get fantastic deals at an auction,

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126143549267587742005-09-07T21:35:00.000-04:002005-09-07T21:41:31.963-04:00

Carl and I tried fishing in the lake by the shack, but we didn't have much luck. I wasn't surprised because during previous visits, we didn't catch any fish in the lake at all. There were a bunch of small fish in the pond below the lake, and they were eager to eat anything remotely edible thrown into the pond, whether it had a hook in it or not. It was a bit disappointing because we didn't have

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1126052012156143202005-09-06T20:09:00.000-04:002005-09-15T04:16:24.566-04:00

Every night I would cook some rice and some kind of beans, or split peas, or lentils on the gas stove. I had gotten a mantle for the old gas light above the doorway to the kitchen, but I think it was the wrong kind and it didn't shed as much light as I thought it should. Sometimes I would light that, and sometimes I would just use a kerosene lantern or two. If I felt especially gloomy I might

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125970307128821432005-09-05T21:30:00.000-04:002005-09-05T21:31:47.133-04:00

Carl rebuilt the engine for his VW Beetle right before we drove it, via a very indirect route, from Florida to Wisconsin. We visited various friends, relatives and places in Alabama, North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana and Wisconsin.My legs were already pretty weak, and a Beetle's seats are very upright so operating the pedals required the ability to lift a bent leg from one

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125888914296882232005-09-04T22:53:00.000-04:002005-09-04T23:01:42.936-04:00

When Bruce came up to the shack in Phillips to visit while I was there, he drove his mother's Oldsmobile. I think she was probably nervous about letting him take her car on such a long trip. She made him promise not to drive too fast and to be very careful. I think Bruce was a little bit amused by that, but he seemed to be conscientiously keeping his promise, in fact, a little too conscientiously

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125788925858895982005-09-03T19:08:00.000-04:002005-09-03T20:52:45.443-04:00

About ten years ago I went up to the shack with Carl. By that time I was already deteriorating, but I could still walk and do a lot of things. Carl stayed there with me a few weeks, during which time Paul came for a few days for a visit. Then Carl left, so I was there alone for a while until Bruce came up for a few days, then he left, and a few days later Pat came and stayed for a few days, then

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125689547430255382005-09-02T15:30:00.000-04:002005-09-02T15:32:27.436-04:00

When I was about ten years old, I decided to try to kill myself. I plugged the drain on the bathroom sink and filled it up with water. I put my head in the water and tried to inhale, thinking I'd be able to drown myself. I immediately started coughing and sputtering and jerked backwards and hit my head on the faucet. Water splashed onto the bathroom floor. I coughed for a while, and thought maybe

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125609798690962842005-09-01T17:22:00.000-04:002005-09-01T17:23:18.703-04:00

I used to like to walk in the woods when I was a kid. We lived pretty far out in the country, and there were no neighbors within view. I would usually head up the tree covered hill in front of our house, and wonder around for hours. I became very familiar with the woods around our house. Any time I had extra time, I would explore further and further for the small thrill of finding new and

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125483593933335332005-08-31T06:18:00.000-04:002005-08-31T06:25:17.770-04:00

As the snow continued to melt that day, Tonoloway Creek filled with muddy water. The creek had been frozen until then, so the brown flood water flowed over the ice. Eventually the flood water started breaking up the ice and large slabs were floating down the creek, along with branches, tree trunks, and whatever else happened to be in the way. The creek had overflowed its banks and flooded the

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125395134686111592005-08-30T05:44:00.000-04:002005-08-30T05:45:34.693-04:00

When I was a kid we lived out in the country in southern Pennsylvania. It was a hilly area, and there were some small mountain streams, and a little river, or actually a creek. It was called Tonoloway Creek. One of the little streams ran next to the road and went under our driveway in a large metal culvert, then down into the creek. One winter in the mid to late seventies, there was a heavy

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125306066169058562005-08-29T04:59:00.000-04:002005-09-15T03:43:13.433-04:00

When we were about eleven or twelve years old, there was this church youth event at St. Mark's Episcopal church. Those church youth events always seemed a bit creepy to me, and seemed to have more than their share of odd individuals. But there were often a few attractive girls which added to their appeal. More so than the Christian Love and Fellowship. For some reason, Brent and I told this one

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125220193229878902005-08-28T05:07:00.000-04:002005-08-28T05:09:53.233-04:00

The short version of the previous:When I was young I buried some quarters, then dug them up shortly afterwards. When I counted them, I was five quarters short. I was disappointed to lose that money and I thought I'd use a container if I ever buried money again. I never buried money again.

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125119397906423492005-08-27T00:53:00.000-04:002005-08-28T05:12:17.060-04:00

When I was about ten years old, I was fascinated by the idea of buried treasure. I was also somewhat interested in collecting coins. Sometimes when I got some money from doing chores or yard work, I would go to the bank and get rolls of quarters in the hope that there would be some valuable pre-1965 silver quarters in amongst the quarters of more recent mintage which were worth a mere twenty five

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1125039433431824852005-08-26T02:43:00.000-04:002005-08-26T02:57:13.436-04:00

I think it was around the time of the building of the tepee that my other grandparents came to visit. I have this memory of going to the bathroom to poop and my step-grandmother accompanying me, as if she was under the impression that I needed supervision for this task. I was rather young, but quite used to the solo bowel movement by then. I remember thinking it odd that she sat down on the edge

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15777073.post-1124954320502965862005-08-25T03:12:00.000-04:002005-08-25T09:04:12.083-04:00

I remember one time our grandad (on mother's side) came to visit when we were young. He made us a tepee out of wood and tarpaper. I think it was down towards the end of the driveway. It smelled of tar inside. Isn't tarpaper carcinogenic? I don't think grandad suspected that back then. I came to hate him later, for reasons unrelated to the tepee. I just remembered there are pictures of the tepee.

danteandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526233499500459526noreply@blogger.com0