The Last Weekend

First touch of the sun

Saturday, August 14th

I’m sitting in my trailer after a full day of “assisting” with the cabin build.  It’s dark outside -- I make sure to be inside the trailer by Bear O’clock, before the latest stage of twilight.  Something fairly light just ran across the roof of the trailer, and I can hear soft snuffling and a bit of low grunting or growling outside (or is that my dog snooring?).  This has been the pattern for the past several days, ever since we got “beared”.  Today when I got in the C-RV to go down to the ranch house for a shower I noticed some crumbly humus-rich forest dirt on the door handle, not what would splash up from a mud puddle on our dirt roads.  I think something tall enough to reach the handle gave it a try; I’m glad I’ve been locking the car.  Bob’s truck has bear paw and drippy nose marks on it too.  The noises outside right now could be a racoon -- they make a sound like a someone trying, and failing, to start a chainsaw at some distance away.  I’m trying to be relaxed about this stuff, especially now that I’m alone up here and don’t have my husband to alert with big eyes and nervous giggles.  I know I have no place on a bear’s food pyramid, but I also know I don’t want to cross paths with one.  I’ll stay in here (with the rare foray out for a pit stop after making some human noise and sweeping the area with my flashlight), and they can stay out there. 

The cabin was stained yesterday, a gorgeous transparent taupe that lets the golden tones of the wood shine through just a bit.  Advised against dark paint colors for the doors (they’re steel sheathed and get hot in the sun), I chose a soft, almost silvery sage green that looks wonderful with the siding and the driftwood colored shingles.  The gray green door will look great opening onto the Granny Smith apple green flooring that will run through the entry, kitchen, bedroom and bath.  The cabin promises to be a pallet of calming colors that don’t match, but blend well with the forest around us. 

Yes, SIR!

It’s my last weekend at the cabin project for the summer.  Today was a busy day with our contractor Brian putting up much of the support framing for the wrap around deck.  I made myself useful by cleaning up all the scrap piles of wood and policing the site, doing a little shovel and rake work leveling out the odd high or low spots around the foundation, moving cut deck joists to where they were needed, and occassionally holding the “dumb end” of the tape measure while Brian “racked” the deck supports, making sure they were perfectly square.  

Brian’s goal for today was to make sure I had a deck to sit on under the porch on the front of the cabin, and he accomplished that.  Before he left we were able to sit on the deck, temporarily a plywood surface, along with my neighbor Nancy, and raise our glasses of wine and bottles of beer to the best builder west of the Mississippi.  When Brian lived in the New England area he was the best builder east of the Mississippi, but I’m glad he’s on this side now.  

After dinner I mosied on down to the cabin again with a glass of wine and watched the first sunset from the deck, and was so sorry my husband is no longer here to share it with -- he’d have been so thrilled.  I did my best to enjoy it for the both of us (it wasn’t hard), trying a little mental telepathy, sending the blissful vibes to him in Tucson.  The sun set at 7:40, off to my right a bit.  Drifts of innocent clouds moved straight towards me, glowing first golden and then coral while the forest air quickly cooled.  The porch roof caught and amplified the burble of Deer Lake spilling into Turkey Creek below.  A quarter moon, brightening by the minute, hung low over Hackett Mountain.  The last of the daylight birds glided past into the pines and firs below, their final calls fading into quiet.  I thought of the countless sunsets we’d enjoy from that deck, the smell of dinner still lingering in the cabin behind us, the conversations we’d have, the laughter, the tender moments.  So many precious times lay ahead in this place.

I can hardly believe I’ve been here for two months this summer, or that it’s almost over.  I’ll be back in Tucson in less than a week, and that includes two days of driving.  Tomorrow is my last “free” day during this summer of building, and I’m planning on making the most of it by having coffee on the new front porch of the cabin, taking a nice walk with my pooch Bump, returning back to that porch for a good long sit with a book and my binoculars nearby for bird watching.  Then three more days of watching the construction -- shingling is probably next -- and pitching in when I can be useful, and then it’ll be time to pack up and head south.  As hard as leaving this place and this project will be, I’m looking forward to a happy reunion with my husband back in Tucson, where together we can dream of all the Rocky Mountain summers to come.