Friday, October 26, 2007

Little Writers in the Big Woods: Part 3

Unfortunate Inconvenience #4: OK, I guess a microwave was a bit much to expect. So much for all the popcorn we brought along. But, silly us, we figured the oven would work. Maybe it did. We never found out. The door was broken, and held together with a plastic tie. Luckily. the stove worked. We had to light it by hand, which mean risking our sleeves going up in flames every time.

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But who needs a stinkin' oven?

We have a grill! We have lighter fluid! Charcoal! Matches!

Or we can channel Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket and build us a campfire!

After all, we are not here to eat popcorn--we are here to write! Pam needs to do some serious work on Khyr. I need to finish revising Shawna. Eating is incidental. Besides, it might be a bit difficult to enjoy a nice slab of meat when you have this old guy gazing down over the dinner table:

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Pam, an iced tea addict, has a mild meltdown over the fact there were no ice cube trays. She creatively figures out how to make a few of her own by putting a plate of water in the freezer. Yes, there is a freezer.

Me, I'm still freaking out over the No Coffee business. When the so-called "percolator" (yuckyuckyuck) fails to produce anything resembling coffee, I boil bottled water and dribble into a cup over a scoop of Seattle's Best placed a paper towel.

O-kaaay, this doesn't work, either. It's drinkable, but deadly. Also, these dishes are grungy! It occurs to us this cabin hasn't, um, actually been "cleaned" since the last campers. Not that it's filthy. For instance, once you get up these treacherous stairs that were evidently designed by a munchkin--

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--the upstairs is clean, and cute:

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Downstairs, however, we're talking seriously dirty dishes, pots, pans, and silverware.

1. Gather water.
2. Prime the pump.
3. Pump the water.
4. Boil the water.
5. Dump boiled water into the sink.
6. Scrape other people's crap off the dishes with a knife.
7. Wash the dishes.
8. Pretend not to care that there are zillions of amoeba floating through this same pump, possibly a tadpole that may have escaped notice, and God knows what else.
9. Rinse with bottled water.
10. Lose the prime. Start over.

Here I worried I'd be in INTERNET withdrawal. Instead I am dreaming about my nifty Kitchen Maid dishwasher and a hefty box of lemony-fresh Cascade.

Pam thinks we're in the wrong cabin. I tend to agree.And we haven't even checked out the "bath house" yet.

"Be sure y'all keep the bath house door shut," the owner had warned us. "Thar's a big ole black snake likes to hang out there."

I kind of like snakes, believe it or not. But hell, after this bit of homey advice I may not shower for a week.

Pam, another snake lover, agrees.

We do an awful lot of agreeing, thank God.

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