The Cabin

There are a lot of books titled : Cabin or The Cabin, with hundreds upon hundreds more with some variation on the word "cabin". When I speak of "The Cabin" I mean our little brown cabin up at 6,000 feet. When we bought it, we tried to come up with some sort of appropriate, meaningful name, so we could say something like, "We went up to "The Squirrel's Bow" or "The Bat Cave", but nothing ever stuck. Corny names don't work for my kind of brain. Too dignified of a name is also too onerous. So we let the name come about naturally, ending up with The Cabin.

We went to the cabin last weekend. There were some repairs to be made and cleaning up to do. The guy with the Bobcat made a huge difference in removing the concrete-like dirt that has been encasing half the cabin since just after the High Park Fire in June of 2012. The removal of the majority of the dirt has given us some hope that we may be able to call the cabin "finished" once again someday.

A neighbor's cabin sits right on a creek that flows to the Poudre River. A flash flood must have hit the creek last Monday. The cabin had a lot of water flow to each side of it and almost washed out the road leading to the cabins at the end of the lane. Their bridge to a little island was damaged, and lots of debris piled up on their back porch. Still, none of the cabins have been destroyed despite the continued onslaught of mountain water with no way to sink in to the soil since the fire. Let's hope our luck holds and that the flash floods don't become any larger.

I have never seen such a profusion of wildflowers in the meadow.

The trail to the meadow has tall grass. Little snakes zip across the trail as you walk.

Tuesday, Schmoozday

I'm tired. No two ways about it. Pooped to the gills. I was awake with E in the middle of the night when she showed up in our very dark bedroom downstairs. I thought it must be close to five o'clock but, after taking her "potty" two times, and getting up to get her a drink of water, I figured out it was more like three o'clock. We did eventually go back to sleep, only to oversleep until 8:30, which always discombobulates me. E wasn't feeling well so it was a long and arduous day with many highs and lows and not much in between.

The writing group had a scant four people, and one new person, who must think it's an old lady writing group. I don't know if we'll ever see her again, but it would be nice to have a few new writers on board of any age, gender, or general persuasion of any sort. Summer is always a very difficult time to get people together for TFW. The group I attended for a while in Edgewater quit for the summer just a month or so after I joined. I wasn't too happy with the long vacation but maybe they just knew how it would be. That's what happens when you live in a state with incredible recreational opportunities.

A good year for clematis flowers.

A moment in the shade on a hot day.

I've got a trip planned to Walden for this weekend. We need to relax, scare some fish, and soak up some scenery. We'll leave the Blue House in other capable hands, and we'll all get some space for a couple of days. We can check on the cabin on the way there and see if the latest strong rainstorms sent any more mud its way. I have a strong desire to cross the Snowy Range on the way home so we can see the pass. We camped there once and it joined my shortlist of special places.

The Cabin Ordeal Begins

We waited all winter for the time to come when we could procrastinate no longer, and the time has arrived. It's time to face the damage that happens when a wildfire and a flash flood conspire to bury the cabin.

The Cabin Master rented a mini excavator from a rental company in Longmont, then had to rent a truck large enough to pull the trailer and, more importantly, to stop it. Saturday was a bit nerve-wracking as he learned how to use the equipment, and figured out the best way to start moving the dirt, mud, and rocks away from the walls. Then, just before they were going to stop working for the day, the rubber track came off on one side. 

I went to Ted's Place (a store and gas station) that is the nearest place to get a cell phone signal. The rental place was closed for the day, wouldn't be open on Sunday, and the voice mail said they don't check their voice mails so, if you want to talk to them, call on Monday. 

We couldn't do any work today because of the equipment failure, and can't even get the excavator back onto the trailer to return it. I'm hoping the rental place will be reasonable about this. I want them to go up into the mountains, get their badly maintained piece of equipment, and I want them to offer to refund us all of our money.  If they don't offer, I'm going to tell them that's what they should do. The Cabin Master has to miss a day of work tomorrow (if they can get up to the cabin to get their machine), and we lost an entire day that was crucial for digging out the cabin.

Even with the problem, the recovery has begun. Unless another flash flood hits it again.

An optimistic beginning

Getting the front of the cabin unburied

Happier times

It's Raining in Longmont

I went outside this afternoon and listened to the thunderstorm to the south of Longmont. It's been a long time since a roll of thunder shook the windowpanes. Now, this evening, it's raining steadily.

Unfortunately, we have two sick people in the house as of tonight. (not me) I'm still not over the psychic trauma of my last illness. In the past, I've gone years without any colds or flu. so this last winter has been a humbling experience.

We're gearing up to begin the rescue mission up at the cabin. The cabin is still half buried in rock and hardened mud (which is different than plain dirt in my mind). The plan is to take a large piece of equipment (resembling a small backhoe) that requires coordination and dexterity, and use it to move the dirt and rocks around. Drainage needs to be created to keep the rocks and mud from assaulting the cabin every time it rains for the next five years. There will be unforeseen complications that no one has considered about the project, there always is, but I hope there won't be any danger involved. At best, the guys will have fun with the challenge of reshaping a large piece of nature.

I appeared in court for my jury summons on Monday. It is a civil trial that should last seven days. Luckily civil trials only require 7 jurors, improving the odds of being excused. After five hours, the last of the rigmarole was over and I was set free. When I looked at the 7 people chosen, 6 women and 1 man, I could not even guess why they settled on those particular ones. It's all a crap shoot at best, I suppose. There is a part of the process when you have to answer six questions about yourself. The questions have been conveniently written on a large piece of paper and set in front of the jury box. People chose the most inane things to tell about themselves. There was a lot of the typical Boulder pissing contest  going on. One woman, a textile artist and potter, managed to work in her husband's equally brilliant career as an artist and how perfectly they collaborated  since they were soul mates. A young Russell Brand look-alike tried to raise his voice against corporate America and the system, and ended up so inarticulate that he was humiliated by his own words. The court was extremely kind to him in return.

Time to put one sick little girl to bed. She has perked up considerably since this morning so I'm hopeful tomorrow will be a good day.

Spinning My Wheels, They Go 'Round and 'Round

But I'm not in the mood for snow today. It was supposed to snow this evening, but I'm looking out the windows next to my computer this morning, and it's snowing. Quite a lot, and on my nicely cleared driveway. Of course I need to go to my writing group tonight in Boulder, so I'll just have to see how the day shakes out.

My brain has been spinning its wheels for quite a few days now. Sometimes I know why I can't gain traction, but I haven't got a clue about this time. The only writing I've done lately is in some letters and a short story I'm rewriting. I've made good on my threat to send out more of my fiction this year. So far, that is. I have an idea for a new book but it's ambitious and audacious. Can I pull it off? Can't hurt to try. Have you read Swamplandia! by Karen Russell? It's ambitious and audacious. Now she has a book of short stories out. The reviewers are saying it's even better than her novel. She has the balls to push the reader's belief, and does a great job.

I'm trying to plan a couple of short family visits to take place in the near future. Should I drive or fly? Tough choice. My granddaughters in Seattle are growing and changing at the speed of light and I miss them and their parents. My mother in California is slowly becoming light as a feather. I fear she'll blow away into the mists above the delta if I don't get out there soon. Of course, my intentions to travel have caused an anomaly in the fabric of the universe. My calendar is filling up with obligations. Family members may move in with us while they sell their house. My husband has taken on more work. Our cabin is still mud-bound and the time to deal with it is fast approaching. I don't have the time to sit here and spin my wheels.

Corbie-Crow