All of the following are favorite cabin moments, aside from the great cabin traditions that are well documented and carried on: there are no pictures of these events which reassures me that they are really remembered memories and not just copied from pictures]
Top floor:
Playing 'The farming game' with Brooke and Annmarie on/around the faded couch and knowing distinctly that the strict 'rules' that Brooke was continually feeding me might very well be misleading me considering she had more apples then the rest of us. Then again, I did have a lot of hay...
The light bright plugged in that it might be played with underneath the insecure creaky table. Once created, the table was covered and Jill and I would wait for the pins to heat up just enough to feel their little warmth before taking them out. Somehow, all the pattern papers were grossly destroyed by the time I was old enough to use them, thus making up our own wonders.
Meticulously preparing our sleeping bag rows as if they were the queens own quarters. Once set up we were prepared for weeks of leisurely fun. I always slept on the end under the windows because I like to look out at the night sky well after everyone else was asleep and make up stories. I also liked the creep of cooler air over my face and the sound of the canal overflow waterfall in the summer. I dreamed up how we could secure hammocks to the giant A beams all the way up to the apex, spaced apart evenly every 7 boards, which I think gave us about 5 hammocks per section. That was a lot of space for cousins. I volunteered myself for the apex bed.
Middle level:
The most giantest fort every built. Utilizing all the quilts from every inch of the cabin and a unique array of couch cushions, we managed to cover the entire orange carpet area, and you could crawl through the whole thing. Both Mom and Aunt Paula crawled in to see, a bit, not the whole way.
Making ourselves into little embryo eggs by pushing the quilt through the hole on the top of the octogonal table and then squeezing in. I think we made quadrouplets at least twice. (try fitting in there now even without the blanket sack!)
A certain yellow finch loosing its voice after taking a daring and perilous journey upward through a moving fan. Would have had the makes of a heroic act in a circus if only the timing was better.
Cabin pancakes. Why did they taste stale even though they were fresh baked?
No phone, and always wondering why. And then we got that tan brick phone that always had to be plugged in behind the tables behind the couch. It was for emergencies. I loved how Mom would patiently explain to us over and over again why it was that we did not have a phone there, because we wanted to get away from that. It took a long time to get what 'that' was and why it needed to be gotten away from.
Basement:
Altered beast. My favorite of all those that cycled through. It was like Christmas again when Dad would say he had switched out some machines and the Beast would be there. Mrs. Pacman remained ever difficult, I have never had the patience to get to the end. Rastan was amusing but the background music droned such to give one a headache, although the accompanying voice of my brothers to every cleared stage still brings us all chuckles. Raiden was too easily beat and all it took was a partner and a little time to kill. Yet, the Altered Beast remained the coveted favorite.
Watching all the older cousins, cool guys with sticks in their hands casually leaning against the wall waiting for their turn and half-sassy girls sticking their noses in, all gathered around an intense yet playful game. The stakes would get high, pride and showmanship. Each would wait their turn to play the winner. That same table held the lure to even Dads, pulling them out of the sinking vinyl sofas to prove to their younger sons that they still had the touch of a seasoned pro. When the coast was clear, we younger ones would reach our sticks over the side and practice the suave strokes to that made a winner. We all would beware lest it was in the middle of a pool game, stopped uncerimoniously through a 5 out of 7 match for dinner time, so that when the men came back we had not even breathed on the ball wrong. I practiced my break so very many times in that cool cool basement.
Later on, painting white strips on some particle board to fashion the ping pong champions ring. Marshall was/is the champion showman. Just watching him was half the fun. Sound effects made up 80% of his game. Whereas Jeff just had that nasty back spin on the ball. They were kind to play with me but would end up losing patience and whack that ball at me to welt, all in good fun. Annmarie and I were best paired just trying to spell p-i-n-g-p-o-n-g out before giggling to the sides of the table.
Trudging wood in the sliding doors to thrust into the firewood box, praying and hoping each time that I would not pinch my fingers today. That air gasping feeling of wood against green rock haunted each log being put in. And the 'overstack' so as to avoid having to get wood in again on my round before we went back home.
Puzzles on the bumper table top during general conference. Everyone worked on them together.
There are more of my vignettes. All, I recognized earlier today, centered around space and activities. The cabin seemed huge as a kid, not just in square footage, but in possibilities and adventures. It was the doing of things there that was most fun. Even if one was doing it alone on a quiet day. I hope that the 'space' is reserved in all future cabin plans to enhance the activities that build relationships and time locked memories.
p.s. I have liked all the drawrings so far, thanks Jeff for sending them on. I would just love to keep the pool table there somewhere and de-emphasis the TV as the main purpose for the basement. Yet, I know the big screen is important to many so my anti-media input can be minimized as seems justified.
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