We are Legit in the 'Hood!

We are back in our comfy, mostly bug-free home and reflecting fondly on that unfinished place up north.  I don't have photos of staged rooms, but I am proud to say that we have a legitimate street address!  This is harder than it sounds.  Wild Rice Electric can deliver service to the cabin and properly bill us, but they didn't have a correct address.  When we looked into that, it turned out that the cabin has never had a street number.  This never bothered anybody, since most people figured street addresses were for receiving mail and unwanted guests, neither of which were deemed necessary for a lake place.  But in today's world of safety-minded paranoids like us, we are partial to the notion of having a 911 identifier, and this turns out to look an awful lot like a street address:

But the Mahnomen County Sheriff's Department shall not be rushed on such matters.  After all, in a real emergency, anyone within 50 miles knows that the address of our cabin is "Two Doors Down from Paul Roy."  In fact, if you said anything other than that in an actual 911 call, the responders would be delayed while the dispatcher looked up your silly street number address.  So it was a full year from the time Dave first called upon the Sheriff's department until we were granted our 911 identifier.  We find it helpful.  I don't think it ruins the ambiance of the place.

We are most excited about the new roof that will go on the cabin next week.  Look for more pictures, proud descriptions of how the porch doesn't leak any more, and glowing reviews of our contractor.  I know I can't wait!
Eagerly, Amy

Life shouldn't imitate TV commercials

There are no pictures in this post because we have just about every room in the cabin in some state of repair.  The remaining rooms are stacked with furniture, wall hangings, and boxes of blankets and towels.  The kitchen is at least usable.

The whole week has been a lot like a Cialis commercial, where you're up to your elbows in paint and dry wall dust until the walls fall aside to reveal a picturesque lakeside setting.  The only difference is that our walls are not props and when they fall down it's usually from dry rot brought on by 40 years of neglectful cheapskates who all happen to be my relatives.  Then, as we're re-constructing the walls and NOT thinking about matching clawfooted bathtubs, Dave goes on a rant about the shoddy workmanship of the Hyldens.  Eventually we resolve the whole thing by going to the Pinehurst to watch hockey.

Actually, we haven't had a single wall fall down this week, and while Dave continues to question some of the construction choices made over the years, we really haven't had any unpleasantly large surprises.  That could change in 10 days, when we get a new roof.  But for now, we're pretty happy with the progress we're making.  I don't know how much we'll have staged by the time we leave tomorrow, but things are heading in the right direction.

Optimistically, Amy

The birds are busy, and so are we

Yesterday morning the lake was like glass, which is beautiful all by itself, with the stark trees reflecting off the surface in the soft morning light.  But it also highlights how busy the birds are this time of year.  Every time a pair flapped and squawked at each other, the whole lake rippled, and you realized how much they all have to do. 

I've never been much of a birdwatcher, but up here, even I can get into it--at least I can spot the big birds.  We've seen ducks, snow geese, hawks, bald eagles, and of course, the uppity loon.  They know everyone is trying to imitate their call, and it makes them the smuggest birds on the lake. 

This morning the wind kicked up, probably in advance of a good storm, we're trying to get as much raking done as possible.  Once the rain starts, we'll return to our inside projects, which include finishing off a bedroom and enclosing the closet in the bathroom.  The closet in the bathroom is where we placed the water heater and pump, so it's truly a water closet.

Hopefully I'll have some pictures of finished projects by the end of the week!
Ever the optimist, Amy

What is it with Shelf Paper?

I don't know if it was the cure-all of its time or if it's just a thing with my relatives, but there is hardly a flat surface that hasn't seen shelf paper.  Perfectly good wooden surfaces were covered in shelf paper, sometimes several times.  I don't mind lining the insides of drawers and cupboards with shelf paper, but coating the top of a night stand with some loopy motif in depressing winter tones just did not improve the night stand.  In fact, it looks far better without.

My favorite was the rotting picnic table.  We know that this picnic table is old because the base is made of steel and it weighs a ton.  To make moving it even more challenging, the rotting wood on the ends crumbles in your hands when you pick it up.  And yet, a fresh layer of shelf paper had been neatly smoothed over the rough-hewn top.  Yeah, shelf paper really spruced that one up.

So when I started cleaning the kitchen this morning, I took a long look at the open cupboards, which have at least three layers of shelf paper.  Some layers only go a third of the way back into the cupboard, while others make it almost all the way back.  It all had to go.  So when I started pulling the layers off, I realized that the base layer was some kind of decorator board from the 1970s.  I pulled that up, to discover that the actual cupboard was a nicely painted forest green, in great shape.

It was good that we had been planning to work inside today.  There was a light coating of snow when we arrived, and naturally it didn't melt overnight.  So this is May 2, 2011:

Thankfully, the snow was melted by the late afternoon.

Overall, we've been pretty pleased with the state of things upon arrival.  The new well turned on like a champ, and once again, the local critters did not find their way in.  One tree that we wanted to take down anyway fell without damaging anything else.  I wonder if it made a sound on the way down.

There's plenty of work to do, so I better get back at it.
Smelling of Formula 409, Amy