Your Scribe reluctantly ordered repairs on the cabin. Actually, I sent the construction guru a letter telling him not to start the project but he has already begun. So it continues.
After six years, the cement stanchions on the corners must be replaced. The game plan wasn't drawn up like this. I thought such pilings lasted a long time, unless you're battling the ocean somewhere. But a piling buckled last spring, so improvements are being made.
Kevin the Well Digger and Earth Mover, a neighbor, is on the job and I don't think he's out to impoverish me. But anytime you bring a machine down and have to hold the cabin off the ground, it's a real assignment. Here is a photo, showing one corner of the 24-by-20 foot cabin completely aloft.
Curiously, as I was talking with Kevin, his twenty-something son suddenly asked if my land (18 acres) is posted. I said no. "Can I hunt on it next week?" What could I say? Of course, kid, thin out the herd. I can't expect to get Most Favored Nationed with Kevin if I don't permit his kid to try his luck on the land. So I guess he will have the thunderstick out come Nov. 1.
Actually, I would never post my property. There are a lot of hunters who can use the meat this fall. But I was reading an old (1908) book about Maine and it actually listed the number of caribou that were taken in 1907. Can anyone remember native caribou in Maine?
Granted, not many folk talk publicly about the deer herd losing numbers. But the "harvest" was about 22,000 in 2008 , compared to about 26,000 in 2006.
Maybe that was just two bad years. Tough winters, they say.
But three decades ago there were also sorts of "sensible" explanations to gloss over the fact that the Atlantic fisheries were diminishing and guess what? No more fish, and the feds have taken over control of commercial fishing.
But I digress. Yes, I am glad that the work on the cabin is starting. I just regret that it has to be done. And I am concerned about the bill.
I wonder if Kevin would like to take tennis lessons as means of trading off one skill for another . . .
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