A Cabin Of My Own

SQ

 

By Valerie (Customer Service)

There is this little cabin on a lake at the end of a dead end road.  Sounds like the setting for a horror flick, right?  Well, it happens to be where I call home when the weather is warm enough.  It’s the type of place that not even the lifelong locals at the store a mile and a half away know about.  Part of an old resort my family owns, we’ve each got our own little nook to nestle in.  Don’t get some romanticized idea of sprawling spaces.  They’re tiny, with not even space for a full bathroom in each of them.  

When my family procured the old resort it was already battling time.  Grass towering several feet high, windows smashed, and rodents romping about.  Stuff to make those little hairs at the back of your neck stand up when the moon casts shadows on the bullet riddled Dead End sign. Was that a raccoon, or something else entirely moving through the evening?

Maybe my overactive imagination was just filled by stories of years ago. An elderly lady that used to clean here before my time once told us tales that Al Capone would stay here, perhaps in my very cabin even.  There is no way to confirm that, but it’s fun to speculate.  To add fuel to the story, I should mention that there was a hangout not terribly far from my little cabin where the Purple Gang spent time.  The kind of spot that when it burned, smoke rose out of the ground far from the site, billowing out of the escape tunnels built into it.

Decades later the old resort is still a work in progress.  Paint, boards and countless trips to the hardware store later finds the place much more cozy. Even when one project is finished you find two more to start on.  I can see the loons playing on the lake most days while I work, and on occasion the Eagles swoop so close it startles you.  Fish jump, bugs bite, and you can dangle your toes in the dark water at the end of the dock. Folks can catch their dinner most of the time by rowing a boat out with a hook and line.  Sometimes even coming back with tales of the fish that got away that were, “this big”! There is a warm fire most weekends where visitors take the time to catch up.  While the cell service can be dismal, you get the benefit of seeing each other by firelight instead of the blue glow of a screen.

The towering grass has been replaced with odd little gardens and plants befitting of cottages.  We’ve got windows and a few less rodents too.  It’s picturesque and peaceful most of the time. However when the moon is just right, or my dog starts barking wildly into the darkness you can still feel that neck hair rise. Perhaps it’s just from a draft in the cabin, or a squirrel collecting acorns for the Winter, but as I mentioned, it’s sure fun to speculate!

 

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