Last week my family and I spent time at our little cabin off the Gunflint Trail between Grand Marais, Minnesota and the Canadian border. The cabin’s been in my husband’s family for three generations. BTW, only one and half of those generations has it had a bathroom and not an outhouse. So, I’m very glad to be on the receiving end of the indoor plumbing. Built in the 1940s, to describe the place in one, carefully chosen word? RUSTIC.
We did have a marvelous time. Well, the kids and I did. I was put in charge of the entertainment committee. We visited the little arts & crafts stores in Grand Marais, skipped stones in Lake Superior, walked on the pier, ate pie. My two daughters fished for the first time which was a hoot with their matching pink fishing rods. I had the privilege of putting the worms on their hooks, taking the hook out of the one fish we caught, and releasing him back to his fishy friends.
The hubby, mostly worked. Six hours to get the water running: pumped from the river, up the hill, and through the cabin’s pipes. A shout out to the magic of mechanical engineering. Two hours to demolish a rotten back deck that you could stick your thumb through. Eight hours to build another one. Yes you can strap lumber to the top of a mini van.
He did take time off to celebrate the 4th of July. We watched the Grand Marais Independence Day Parade at 8 PM. All twelve minutes of it. Followed by the fireworks display at 10 PM. Twenty-five minutes. Twice as long!
While in Minnesota I made many, many new friends eager to get to know me better. They’d press against the screens as soon as they saw me coming. A couple snuck into the shower and into the bedroom every night. Truly, they couldn’t get enough of me. And they left me with many, many take home presents to remember them by. A gift on my thumb. One gift on my eyebrow. They were camera shy, so I had to borrow this picture from an expert so you could get a good look. I’m sure she’s a cousin of my friends in Minnesota. Do you recognize her?
Mosquito Bug photo © Xunbin Pan